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Issue: 715 | 15th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Headlines "Agent 42" by opossumman Jacob flicked the switch on the coal-sorter and waited on baited breath. This would be the one, surely. The Christmas Kacheek had spent far too many hours on the device for it to backfire again. Slowly one steam-powered rotor began to turn and moved the coal from one pile into its internal furnace. It worked just as planned: a breakthrough, in his eyes.
"Stealth! Come here! It's actually working!" he yelled to his friend. Stealth, a Silver Eyrie, turned from the twelve-piece jigsaw puzzle he was struggling with at the kitchen table to see his friend beaming with joy.
"That's great! So glad to see it finally come together," he said as he gave his friend a pat on the shoulder with his wing.
"Come to think of it, Stealth, aren't you almost late for that delivery run? You wouldn't want to lose another job, you know?"
Other Stories
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We Ordinary Few They stood there, in the pouring rain, waiting for the end of the world. It was always the end of the world, in a child’s eye. A year lived to a five year old is a millennia, a day a decade of turbulence and revolution. Time moves like molasses when one’s running through their fathers’ poppy garden at the speed of sound, the most minor changes an earthquake rocking the world out of orbit. This change was anything but minor.
by cherishtwilight |
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Anneslace and the Imposter Apple Anneslace bolted upright in her bed. “A Krawkadon? In the galley? I told Sam he could get a nice, sedate Plathydon, not a Krawkadon.” She paused. “How much… how much food is left?”
by peirigill |
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The Truth of the Space Techos It was a hot Tyrannian afternoon when I, the aspiring new reporter, David the Mynci, was interviewing the various factions of the Battleground about the secret society pulling the strings behind Neopian society. That's right, I was asking them about the Space Techos.
by seraphfire |
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The Secret Behind the Wishing Well I’m pretty sure we all know the Wishing Well. Remember that old well you used to stand by in Neopia Central, aimlessly dropping countless coins in while muttering about a Faerie Paint Brush? Well, I’m here to prove to you that it’s not as magical and innocent as it seems. Yes, it might seem crazy now, but I’m telling you- that well isn’t what it seems to be.
by butterfly7672 |
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Lord Faerigan - Fyora's Role in the Meridell Wars: Part One rincess Fyora noticed a Korbat, seated on the grass, eyes toward the ground. She could not bear to see someone so lonely and downcast so she quietly flew over to his side and tapped on his shoulder. The Korbat slowly raised his head, greeted by Fyora’s outstretched hand. He stared for a moment and then shook his head.
by black_skull725 |
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