Community Manhwa

Transported To Another World Manhwa

Made by the community on Manhwa AI

Chapter 3 – Detention… Together? The next morning, the school was already loud. Everyone was talking about the same thing. Jennie and Felix. The school’s coolest DJ and its basketball star had officially become the school’s funniest rivalry. ⸻ Jennie walked through the hallway with her long black hair falling smoothly over her shoulders, styled with soft curtain bangs like her famous “Ice Cream” and “How You Like That” looks. She wore an oversized charcoal hoodie, loose black cargo pants with silver chains, and black-and-white high-top sneakers. Her silver headphones rested around her neck, ready for whenever inspiration hit. She was the school’s legendary DJ. And also the person most likely to destroy someone’s confidence with one sentence. ⸻ Felix entered from the gym hallway, carrying his basketball. His soft black hair was slightly messy from practice, falling naturally over his forehead. He wore a black-and-red varsity jacket over a white T-shirt, relaxed black athletic pants, and clean white basketball sneakers. He was the captain of the basketball team. Popular. Talented. And still confused why Jennie didn’t think he was impressive. ⸻ Walking beside Felix was Han. Han’s soft brown hair was slightly messy, with a few strands sticking up like he had rushed out of bed. His expressive eyes always gave away when he was about to make a joke. He wore an oversized dark green hoodie layered under a denim jacket, relaxed black jeans, and comfortable white sneakers. His backpack hung from one shoulder, usually filled with random snacks, notebooks, and things nobody understood why he carried. Han was the school’s unofficial comedian. He loved drama. Especially when the drama involved Jennie and Felix arguing. ⸻ Near the music room, Rosé adjusted her headphones. Her long lavender hair fell in soft waves down her back. She wore an oversized lavender cardigan over a white T-shirt, ripped light-blue jeans, and chunky white boots. Her style was relaxed but artistic, matching her love for music. She smiled when she saw Jennie. “This is going to be interesting.” ⸻ Lisa appeared beside her with a mischievous grin. Her long ash-blonde hair with bangs framed her face perfectly. She wore an oversized black bomber jacket, a graphic T-shirt, baggy cargo pants, and colorful sneakers. Lisa loved chaos. And Jennie and Felix provided plenty. “I give them five minutes before they fight.” Rosé looked at her. “Five?” Lisa nodded. “Okay. Three.” ⸻ Jisoo walked toward class carrying her books. Her long dark red hair was neatly styled, shining under the hallway lights. She wore a cream knit sweater, black pleated skirt with black tights, and polished ankle boots. A small necklace and simple earrings completed her elegant look. She sighed. “I already know today will be exhausting.” ⸻ Leaning against a locker was Hyunjin. His long blond hair was perfectly styled, making him look like he belonged in a fashion magazine. He wore an oversized cream sweater, black wide-leg trousers, layered silver necklaces, and clean designer sneakers. He watched the hallway dramatically. “The energy today…” Everyone stared at him. “What?” Hyunjin shrugged. “It feels like the beginning of a legendary rivalry.” Han nodded. “He’s not wrong.” ⸻ Then the bell rang. History class. Everyone sat down. Mr. Kim walked in carrying a stack of papers. “Today, you will begin your group projects.” The entire class groaned. “Partners have already been chosen.” Jennie immediately looked suspicious. Felix looked nervous. Mr. Kim smiled. “Jennie and Felix.” Silence. “No.” They both said it at the same time. The class exploded. Han slammed his notebook down. “THEY AGREED ON SOMETHING!” Lisa clapped. “Historic moment.” ⸻ After class, Felix walked over. “So we have to work together.” Jennie looked up. “Unfortunately.” “You make it sound painful.” “It is.” Felix crossed his arms. “You’re impossible.” Jennie smiled. “And you’re predictable.” “How?” “Basketball. Practice. Basketball. More basketball.” Felix pointed at her. “You literally carry headphones everywhere.” “Because I make music.” “And I play basketball.” “Exactly.” Felix frowned. “What does that mean?” “It means I create something people remember.” Han gasped. “OH.” Rosé covered her mouth trying not to laugh. Felix shook his head. “You’re lucky you’re funny.” Jennie smiled. “I know.” ⸻ After school, they met in the library. Felix opened the project instructions. “We should actually work.” Jennie nodded. “Finally. A smart idea.” Felix smiled. “Was that a compliment?” “No.” “I knew it.” ⸻ Ten minutes later… Felix dropped his pencil. Jennie looked at him. “Already struggling?” “I dropped a pencil.” “Exactly.” Han whispered from another table, “She turned dropping a pencil into an insult.” Lisa nodded. “That’s talent.” ⸻ Then Felix accidentally knocked over his water bottle. It rolled into Jennie’s backpack. She opened it. Everyone waited. She pulled out… A rubber chicken. Felix stared. “Why?” Jennie looked serious. “Emergency purposes.” “What emergency requires a rubber chicken?” “Any emergency.” Han laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Jisoo shook her head. “I don’t even want to know.” Hyunjin smiled. “Perfect. The rivalry has a mascot.” Felix laughed. And Jennie tried not to. But for a second… She smiled. Only a second. Nobody noticed. Except Felix.
The healing stones had stopped making sense three days ago. Mira noticed it the way one notices a familiar heartbeat becoming irregular—not at first, but with a creeping certainty that something in the rhythm has fundamentally shifted. She stood in the monastery infirmary at dusk, her hands suspended over a stone no larger than a fist, and waited for the resonance she'd come to depend on like breath. Nothing. Or rather: something. But wrong. "You're doing it again," Thea said from the doorway, not unkindly. Her friend held two cups of evening tea, steam rising in thin spirals that dissipated into nothing. "The thinking-so-hard-your-face-goes-blank thing." Mira didn't look up. "The stones are different." "Different how?" How indeed. Mira had spent eight years learning the language these ancient stones spoke-a subtle vibration that aligned with her own gift, amplifying it, creating channels through which her intuition could flow like water finding its course. When she placed a remedy against their surface, the stones would hum, and that hum would tell her things. *This will work. This won't. This one requires patience. This one is already too late.* Never words, precisely. But certainty. The kind that came from somewhere older than language. But the gift itself-that had always been hers alone. She'd known it since childhood, that strange knowing that lived beneath her skin like a second heartbeat. When she held a fevered rabbit at seven, she hadn't been reciting learned knowledge. She'd felt the fever as a presence, an intruder, and she'd known-with the absolute clarity of a child who hasn't yet learned to doubt-that it could be asked to leave. The monks had recognized it immediately. A true gift, they'd said. Rare. Ancient. Real. The stones had come later, offered as tools to strengthen what was already within her. To amplify the signal that her own body could perceive. And for eight years, they had done exactly that. She would place her hands on them and feel her gift expand, sharpen, become precise enough to guide her remedies with surgical accuracy. Until three days ago, when the signal began to loop back on itself. "They're... circling," Mira said finally. "The pattern. It goes around itself instead of outward." Thea set the tea on the small table between them with the deliberate care of someone setting down something that might explode. She was used to Mira's cryptic diagnoses-of villages, of individuals, of the invisible architecture of suffering. But there was something in Mira's voice now that made her move slowly. "Circles are stable," Thea offered. "Maybe that's not wrong." Mira finally turned. In the failing light, her friend looked younger than thirty, which was unfair. Thea had earned her lines the honest way-through years of kneeling beside dying people, learning what comfort looked like when it was all that remained. But something in her face had smoothed lately. Or perhaps Mira was simply learning to stop seeing her clearly. The thought came sharp and unbidden, and with it: the first cold touch of doubt. ーーー The monastery had welcomed them both as girls. Mira's gift had announced itself early-her mother found her once, age seven, holding a fevered rabbit, and the fever broke. Just like that. Like she'd asked it politely to leave. The monks recognized something in her they'd seen before, in their own ancient texts. A healer whose knowing transcended learning. They offered sanctuary, knowledge, space to grow into whatever she was becoming. Thea came two years later, smaller and feral, caught stealing medicines from the infirmary stores. Instead of punishment, the head monk-Brother Aldwin, ancient even then-had asked her why. *For my mother*, Thea had said. *She's burning up and no one will help her.* He'd walked her to the infirmary himselt, shown her how to prepare a draught, how to cool a brow, how to sit with someone in darkness without trying to light it. By morning, Thea's mother had died anyway. By evening, Thea had chosen to stay. They'd grown up in these halls. They'd learned that healing was sometimes mercy, sometimes mystery, always a form of prayer whispered in a language the body understood even when the mind didn't. And the stones had been their gospel. Dependable. Ancient. *True*. --- By the fourth day, Mira had moved into the infirmary proper. She told herself it was necessary-there was a fever spreading through the village, the kind that didn't respond to simple remedies, the kind that required constant adjustment, intuitive recalibration. But the truth was simpler and more frightening: she couldn't leave the stones. Couldn't stop trying to read the pattern they'd begun drawing. Circles within circles. Concentric and endless. Like the mouth of a well. Like the grooves worn into stone by ten thousand years of fingers pressing, searching, hoping. Brother Aldwin found her at midnight, still in her work clothes, surrounded by herbs and stones and notes she'd written in a hand that barely resembled her own. "You haven't slept," he observed. Not a question. The old monk moved through the world in certainties. It was one of the things that had once comforted her. "The stones are changing," Mira said. "And I don't know why." Aldwin lowered himself into a chair with the careful deliberation of something made of glass. He was smaller than she remembered. Or perhaps she'd grown. Time did strange things in these stone halls-sometimes it moved like molasses, sometimes it vanished entirely. "The stones don't change," he said quietly. "They've remained as they've been since they were placed here, three centuries past. Since the monastery was built on ground the healers chose." "They're changing," Mira repeated, and heard the fever in her own voice. The thing underneath the calm. "The resonance is different. It's—" "Mira." His eyes were the color of old water. "Have you considered that perhaps you are the one who has changed?" The words landed like stones dropped down that well. She heard them descending. She heard the silence that followed before impact. "No," she said. And then: "That's not-that's not how this works." But even as she said it, she felt the first small crack in the architecture of her certainty. Because what was certainty, after all? What was the difference between a stone speaking to you and you speaking to yourself, and learning only later that you'd been the only voice in the conversation all along? "Aldwin," she said, and her voice sounded very young. "Do you believe in the stones?" He didn't answer immediately. He looked at his hands-liver-spotted, ancient, trembling slightly. "I believe in the healers," he said finally. "I have always believed in the healers. The stones were meant to help us believe in ourselves." --- She found the journal in Brother Aldwin's quarters. Not deliberately-he'd asked her to bring him tea, and her hands, trained by years of healer's pragmatism, had simply opened drawers while she waited for him to emerge from the washroom. Looking for something she didn't know she was searching for. The journal was old, older than anything she'd thought to preserve. The handwriting was Aldwin's, younger, more aggressive in its loops. And the entries were all the same, repeated like a prayer worn smooth by obsessive repetition: *The stones do not speak. I have listened for thirty years. The stones do not speak. Perhaps I have become the voice. Perhaps I have been telling myself stories about what I wish to hear.* *The remedies worked because I believed in them. The patients healed because we expected them to. The stones are only stone.* *This is the knowledge I cannot unknow. This is the wound that will not close.* The entries spanned decades. The handwriting never settled. It spiraled inward, tighter and tighter, circling the same truth over and over like something trapped. Mira sat on the edge of his narrow bed, the journal loose in her hands, and felt something shift inside her. Not breaking. Shifting. The way ground shifts before a landslide. The way the world rearranges itself when you learn something that cannot be unlearned. Her hands were shaking. She read the same passage three times, four times, and each time it felt like drowning in slow motion. Aldwin-the man who had taught her everything, who had placed the healing stones in her palms and told her they were ancient and true-had spent his entire life doubting them. Had spent decades circling the same terrible knowledge: that perhaps there was no magic at all. Only the power of expectation. Only the human capacity to heal itself when given permission and belief. She thought of every patient she'd ever treated with absolute certainty. Every time she'd felt the stones hum beneath her palms and known -*known*—what would work. Had that been the gift? Or had it been something far more mundane: observation, intuition, the natural patterns of illness and recovery that she'd learned to read so well she'd mistaken the reading for magic? The journal fell from her hands. She pressed her palms against her eyes and felt the first hot tears of rage and grief and something far worse: uncertainty. The kind that didn't resolve into anything clean. The kind that would live in her now, a permanent guest. When Aldwin emerged from the washroom twenty minutes later, she was still sitting there. He stopped in the doorway. He saw the journal. He saw her face. For a moment, neither of them moved. "How long?" Mira asked. Her voice sounded like it came from very far away. Aldwin closed the door behind him. He looked diminished, suddenly—not the ancient wise man but simply an old person, worn down by the weight of a secret he'd carried alone. "Since I was younger than you are now," he said quietly. "Fifty-three years." "And you never told anyone." "I told myself," he said. "Over and over. Does that count?" Mira stood. She needed to move or she would shatter. "Every patient I've ever healed. Every time I told someone they would recover and they did. Every time I felt the stones guide me. Was that—" She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't shape the question into words. "You have a gift," Aldwin said, and there was something almost desperate in his voice now. "Mira, listen to me. You do. I don't know what it is, but it's not the stones. The gift is yours. It always has been.""How do you know?" she demanded. "How can you possibly know that?" "Because I watched you," he said. "I watched you for eight years, and I watched you heal people in ways that shouldn't have been possible. Yes, I've doubted the stones. Yes, I've spent half a century wondering if I was a fraud. But I never once doubted you. Not really. Not in the moments that mattered." Mira turned away from him. She couldn't look at his face, at the terrible honesty written there. "You should have told me." "I know." "You should have warned me." "I know," he repeated. And then: "But I was afraid. I was afraid that if I told you the truth about my doubt, I would plant it in you. And I needed-" His voice cracked slightly. "I needed to believe that at least one of us had certainty. That at least one of us was still whole." She heard the break in him then. Fifty-three years of isolation, of circling the same terrible knowledge alone. And she understood, with a clarity that was almost painful, that this was the real gift he'd been asking her to hold for him: the belief he could no longer maintain. "I don't know how to do this," she said quietly. "Neither did I," Aldwin replied. "But you will. You're stronger than I was." --- The fever broke on the seventh day. The village children recovered. The old woman who'd been burning up in the cottage by the north gate opened her eyes and asked for water. All the remedies worked, just as they always had. But when Mira returned to the infirmary that evening, she didn't go directly to the stones. Instead, she sat with Thea in the corner of the room, surrounded by drying herbs and cooling salves, and told her everything. Thea listened without interrupting. She was good at that-at reading the specific shape of someone's ruin and knowing when words would only make it worse. When Mira finished, her friend was quiet for a long moment. "Did you know?" Mira asked. "No," Thea said. And then, because she was kind, she added: "But I suspected. I suspected because I watched the way you moved, even in your doubt. You moved like someone who knew exactly what she was doing. The stones were never what made you certain, Mira. They were just the story you told yourself about where your certainty came from." Mira thought about this. "So what am I, then? If not a healer with a gift?" "You're still a healer," Thea said. "Maybe that's all you ever were. Someone who pays attention. Someone who believes people can get better and acts on that belief in ways that matter. That's not nothing. That might be everything." --- The next morning, Mira approached the stones differently. She didn't place her hands on them expecting to receive guidance. Instead, she picked up a remedy-willow bark and honey for the fever that still lingered in one of the village children-and she held it to the stone and simply waited. The hum came. The pattern spiraled. Circles within circles, drawing inward toward some center she would never quite reach. But this time, when she felt the resonance, she didn't try to interpret it as the stone's voice. Instead, she let it be what it was: a physical vibration that her own nervous system registered, amplified by the stone's density and her own attention. The hum became a mirror. It reflected back everything she already knew— the properties of the remedy, the nature of the fever, the body's own capacity to heal. And that was enough. She carried the remedy to the cottage where the child lay half-awake, fever still painting her cheeks with unnatural color. Mira sat on the edge of the bed and spooned the mixture between small lips. The girl swallowed obediently. "Will I get better?" the child asked, with the directness of the very young. Mira looked at this small person, burning with fever, looking to her for certainty. And she made a choice. "Yes," she said. Not because the stones had told her. Not because some mystical gift guaranteed it. But because she had studied the patterns of this fever for a week, because she understood this child's body and its capacity for recovery, because she believed in the remedies she'd prepared with her own hands, and because belief itself-genuine, grounded, earned through years of practice-was its own form of power. "You're going to get better," Mira said again. "I'm going to help you." The child closed her eyes and seemed satisfied. When Mira returned to the monastery that evening, she found Brother Aldwin in the infirmary, standing before the healing stones. He turned when he heard her footsteps. "about what I should have done differently. And I think the answer is: nothing. Or everything. I'm still not sure which." Mira stood beside him, looking at the stones that had been her entire world. "The pattern is still there," she said. "Yes." "And it still spirals inward. Still circles back on itself." "Yes." "But I'm not lost in it anymore," Mira said. "I'm not trying to reach the center. I think I understand now-the pattern was never meant to lead anywhere. It was meant to make us still. To make us listen. And what we listen for, what we hear in that stillness... that comes from us. That was always us." Aldwin nodded slowly. "I wish I'd understood that sooner." "Maybe I can," Mira said. "Maybe that's the gift —not that I have certainty, but that I can live with the uncertainty and still act. Still help people. Still believe in the remedies and the body's power to heal, even though I can't prove where my knowing comes from." She placed her hand on the nearest stone. It was cool beneath her palm, just stone, just the accumulation of minerals pressed together over millennia. And somehow, that was more miraculous than magic would have been. The earth, shaped by time. Her hand, shaped by practice and attention. The space between them, where healing happened. The monastery walls hummed around her, ancient and listening. She listened back-not for the voice of the stones, but for her own voice returning, clarified now, no longer confused with something other than itself. And in that listening, in that clarity, she found something stronger than certainty: the capacity to hold doubt in the same steady hands that held faith. The strength to say * don't know how this works, but I believe in it anyway.* The wisdom to understand that sometimes, the two were not contradictory at all, but simply Tor the voice or the stones, buttor ner own voice returning, clarified now, no longer confused with something other than itself. And in that listening, in that clarity, she found something stronger than certainty: the capacity to hold doubt in the same steady hands that held faith. The strength to say *I don't know how this works, but I believe in it anyway.* The wisdom to understand that sometimes, the two were not contradictory at all, but simply different languages for the same truth. The monastery walls hummed. The stones waited, patient and silent. And Mira, at last, was ready to move forward.
She has a voluptuous body. She’s really close to a guy
Greyson is too scared to talk to girls, and EJ needs to help him
Young light skin man moving to Japan during a monster out break
Kiss photo 1 as he walks away photo 1 saying we have to finish our fight crying
Photo 1 using her ribbon to fight zombies and goblins and a vampire woman
early 20s girl goes to glove store. searching for different types of leather gloves. choose to buy long black leather gloves.
Phantom of the Opera: Opera house in Paris, France Where Fu ChaoYi in his Phantom Mask holding a candle with finger to his lips saying Shhh! 🤫
A monk woman in orange robes an holding a golden staff with blue eyes long blonde hair talking to a middle aged woman in green and black with gray hair and green eyes
Tomura Shigaraki in his season 6 form is standing in a ruined city as Izuku is huffing and puffing in a crouch position, analyzing how to save him
a high school boy, who look exactly like solo leveling main character walk to school past the park with many cherry pink blossom on two sizes
A new female deticitve comes to a crie scene where her new male cooleges are there with scars on thier faces starting new case in a new city with new team
At a snowy mountain long silver hair pale white skin 9’0ft tall barbarian wearing saber tooth tiger clothing walking around in the snow is a young man And women
Photo 1 saying hello to photo 2 photo 2 getting scared and bowing saying hello my lady photo 1 walking to sit in a throne next to her massive hammer as a snow bunny girl walks in wearing a half shirt and skirt holding drinks
A man goes to an village he looks like an viking and camera angle from behind
Photo 4 lily bell and harley is like you to meet your old sister Bella photo 2 lily bell standing looking shocked photo 3 harley Bell still angry but think she would like a upgrade and get skin to photo 1 saying hello sisters I am Bella and I have a owner my owner is quite nice smiling
Tomura Shigaraki is reading the Bible with Jesus Christ sitting next to him with love in his eyes and a warm smile!
Jesus Christ walks far in the desert to reach a small town and help poor people and feed them with love in his eyes!
Panel 1 wide Photo 1 in the nearly bright temple destroyed ruins kneeling down to photo 2 face as she cried photo 1 saying do you want to make a contract with Zac Panel 2 split Photo 2 looking confused tears in her eyes shaking her head yes system unlock bec
Generate a visual concept art of a divinely handsome swordmans with short black hair fully bond in a asectic topknot with two sliver hairpins and white streaks of loose hair to frame his face....has gold eyes with a laid back personality and a pale complexion
(Photo 1 sitting in his throne saying I am a God I should be treated this way) (photo 3 wearing a high tech suit of armor black and pink and a all silver right arm saying Kevin did what) (photo 4 spitting out his beer) (photo 2 talking to the king about his friend saying he apologized for his behavior)
Two sisters regressed back to life one called yoyo got pushed by her contact husband who cannot walk and the other the elder sister called sienna jumped to save her younger sister the bothbdied together when they regressed they regressed they remeberd everything so they make a plan to get as much money as they can and try to run away
Two sisters regressed back to life one called yoyo got pushed by her contact husband who cannot walk and the other the elder sister called sienna jumped to save her younger sister the bothbdied together when they regressed they regressed they remeberd everything so they make a plan to get as much money as they can and try to run away
Shigaraki stands menacingly like the photo while Izuku is in a crouch position, trying to analyze how to win while Shigaraki stands there waiting
love story
Photo 1 hooked up to cords and wires sitting in a white chair with scanners showing vital signs surrounded by robots off in the distance with a woman with short black hair blue eyes and red lipstick with light green makeup on her cheeks in a long white coat and all black saying so you are awake your name will be lily bell
Chapter 1 — The Promise Five children sat beneath an old oak tree. Reyan, Leon, Kael, Darian, and Hua had been friends since childhood. Leon held out his hand. “Promise we’ll always stay together?” One by one, the others placed their hands together. “Forever.” Reyan looked at Leon. “Forever.” None of them knew that one day, their promise would be tested by secrets, blood, and betrayal.
Panel 1 wide Photo 2 walking around the swimming pool with pink bikini shorts on Panel 2 split Photo 1 walking into the women’s locker room where there are 5 other girls getting into their bikinis one woman sitting at a locker in green and white bikini bottom and a long white shirt lifting to her belly with blue eyes and black hair next panel photo 1 bikini top red and white standing at a locker Panel 3
Panel 1 wide Photo 1 being carried on the back of photo 2 to a golden horse and carriage photo 2 saying you used all your magic didn't you Panel 2 split Photo 2 being carried on the back of photo 2 as they walk away from the castle saying shout up I didn't know that one spell would take all my MP photo 2 helping photo 1 into the carriage as he accidentally sees her black panties blushing Panel 3 split Panel 4wide
Panel 1 split Photo 1 saying that was amazing standing in his garden with frozen roses then say keep me entertained while walking away Panel 2 split Photo 2 forcing herself onto her feel surrounded by ice holding her head photo 2 comes over to help her stand Panel 3 Photo 3 brown pit-bull with white chest patch sitting up
Photo 1 is in her bedroom laying across her bed on FaceTime with Photo 2. Photo 1 says”Hey have you gotten your admissions decision yet? Are we going to the same college? “ Photo 2 smiles and says “YES WE ARE!!!! I GOT IN!!” Both photo 1 and photo 2 are seen smiling. Photo 2 ask” do you want to room together, I can have my dad make the arrangements for us?” Photo 1 says “ Yes I would love to live with you, are you kidding you’re great!”
A Girl wake up in her bed and realized she has transformed into a swan. That Girl who now a Swan is in panic and look into mirror. The Girl who now a Swan says: "wow i look cute as a swan". The Girl who now a Swan begann to swing her wings and says: "wait i can fly" and begann to fly outside. The Girl who now a Swan has lot of fun flying outside. The Girl who now a Swan After flying she fly back at home. At Home thinks The Girl who now a Swan it dosent matter if she a swan or not. it get dark The Girl who now a Swan transform back into a Girl The Girl so happy to be herself again. At next moring she wake up again as a swan. The Girl who now a Swan says: "NOT AGAIN"
A demon tries to scare a little boy in his bed in the dark, when suddenly light shines with Jesus Christ emerging and rebukes the demons and reassures the little one with love!
Hindi yan ito pic na to yung nakikita mong unang pic yan si jinyong na kinakapi si lightning choi ang gusto kong mangyari gawin mo yung isang pic na najan na gawin mo mini mimic ko Yung nasa isa pic yung pic ni jinyong habang kinakapi niya si lightning choi
Girl wearing blue suit using magic to change her costume into a black suit or armor as the other girl is looking for suit of armor in her dressers the girl in purple is sitting on her bed then standing putting on her purple suit of armor with black and gold design as the other girl fines her deep red and gold suit of armor under her bed and putting it on saying about time they all meet up to fight a massive Dragon coming through a portal
Girl wearing blue suit using magic to change her costume into a black suit or armor as the other girl is looking for suit of armor in her dressers the girl in purple is sitting on her bed then standing putting on her purple suit of armor with black and gold design as the other girl fines her deep red and gold suit of armor under her bed and putting it on saying about time they all meet up to fight a massive Dragon coming through a portal
Panel 1 wide Photo 2 picking up her workout clothes going into her bathroom in her room Panel 2 split The door close. Next panel photo 2 opens the door of her bathroom with her work out clothes on and the hello kitty boy shorts Panel 3 split Photo 3 outside standing next to her 2025 INFINITI Luxury SUV gold and black with her skinny boyfriend in a green shirt and blue jeans. Next panel photo 2 grabbing her workout shoes black and green Panel 4 wide Photo 2 slides down the reels of the steps
Photo 1 then pulls up to the college campus. And steps out of a BMW and looks at the college and the college students. Photo 1 is wearing a black sweatshirt with a white big white rose in the front, black jeans, and white Nike Air Force’s. Photo 1 has a very serious expression while looking at all the other happy students and sighs and “says let’s get this shit over with” Photo 1 then begins to walk up the college steps with a black suitcase.
-photo 1 saying holdup bitch you forgot about me as he step up to the cycle his panel pops up Name Kevin level??? Class Dragon-knight has the ability to subjugate all dragon kind SSS+ MP 15,000 HP 11,990 photo 3 says hello heroes I am typhoon sitting in his throne photo 4 walks up hello heroes looking at photo 1 feeling attacked to him photo 2 saying wow you are beautiful to photo 4
(As photo 1 welcomes all of the trans-migrants to the of Asgard) photo 2 stands and looks around in amazement photo 3 holding his head and still holding his beer photo 4 saying is this really happening
Photo 1 is laying in a luxury bedroom with black furniture. Photo 1 is doing and loos exactly like photo 4. Photo 1 then thinks about what he seen earlier that morning at school when he was in the backseat riding in his luxury car. Photo 1 had seen photo 2 wearing the outfit in photo 3 and was mesmerized by her beauty. Photo 1 then opens his eyes and thinks “ I have to find you and make you mine, no matter what. You are mine.” with a very serious and intimidating look on his face.