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Summary
Obi-Wan, under his Master's orders, had infiltrated Death Watch. Months have passed and now he's getting new orders. Destroy the base.
Even if it means being destroyed along with it. -
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Summary
Если есть вервольфы, то в мире должны быть и верокошки. Для равновесия. Как же обойтись без котиков?
АУ, то есть очень сильно альтернативная история. -
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Summary
On July 15th, 2025, the world was told that Stiles Stilinski was dead. A classified mission. A redacted report. A condolence call from the FBI.
No body. No answers.But the pack notice there’s something wrong… Now, grief turns to suspicion as the people who loved him the most begin to wonder:
Is Stiles Stilinski really dead? -
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It was a short twenty-minute ride, and then Stiles was stepping out onto the driveway of his childhood home.
“You got a new roof,” Stiles said, eyebrows rising as he took in the fresh shingles.
“Yeah,” his father grunted, wrenching Stiles’ luggage out of the trunk. “Tree landed on the house last year. I thought I told you?”
Stiles hurried over, reaching for his bags—only for his hand to get smacked away.
“I got it,” his father said firmly, like the idea of Stiles carrying his own luggage was some kind of insult.
Stiles rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, I think I remember now. Scott helped you fix it, didn’t he?”
Noah’s face brightened. “He did. Boy’s really made a good company for himself. Had to fight him to let me pay.”
Stiles’ smile slipped, memories settling heavy in his stomach.
They walked up the driveway. Stiles’ gaze drifted toward the garage, a thought sparking.
“Hey, Dad,” he said, scanning the driveway. “Where’s my baby Roscoe?”
Noah’s expression pinched. Uncomfortable. Guilty.
“About that…"
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