Darksite

DARKSITE MONTGOMERY QUINN ALSO BY MONTGOMERY QUINN Nice To F#ck You Beware The Margay Myth & Machine The Lost Prince Dodge Master I Summoned My WHAT?! Kevin’s Kitty Rescue Taking It To The Cleaners Darksite Rose Rose: A Hucow Story Rose 2: A Hucow Story Survival of the Fittest Hell: A Haremlit Men's Fantasy (Book 1) Heaven: A Haremlit Men's Fantasy (Book 2) Trolling in Paradise The Beast (Book 1) The Leader (Book 2) The King (Book 3) CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Word From The Author Books By Author Book Formatting No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form or by any means electronic or otherwise without the prior written permission from the Author unless for a brief use of quotations in a review. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then this copy must be destroyed. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Copyright © 2022 Montgomery Quinn All rights reserved. I’d like to thank my wonderful supporters. Thank you for your contributions to my work. Adam H. / Ben / Ben R. / Bugsy B. / Chaosdude21 / Court Jester / Daniel / Deon P. / Dmc1234 / Duncan P. / Jon / Kaelas / Lejunior / Lucas P. / Max V. / Mike / Rondal S. / Alin U. / Curtiss C. / Daniel P. / EESDESESESRDT / F0ZYWOLF / Grant / Http 418 / Kyle / Levi. A.H. / Mathew K. / Michael Y. / Moose / Norm T. / Philip 77 / Sir2319 / Timothy W. / Tornado64 Thank you for your generosity, feedback and kindness. If you’d like to see your name here, follow my links for more info! https://linktr.ee/montgomeryquinn For more Haremlit, please direct your attention to: www.facebook.com/groups/haremlit/ and www.facebook.com/groups/HaremLitBooks CHAPTER 1 Professor Hill looked around the room. This class, like the ones before it, were all the same. He already knew which of the students were getting a passing grade. He also knew which of them had wealthy enough parents, that after he failed them, their grades would be overturned by the board. But he wasn’t in it for the job, or the clout. He just hoped that one day. One person. One mind would open enough to actually do something. The class was mostly taken by those who didn’t want to do something harder. Being lectured on social issues wasn’t a difficult subject when you stared at it on paper. But this class wasn’t about pass or fail. Not really. It is about teaching people to think. Like young Sabrina. A hair over five feet tall, brown hair in a tight ponytail, green eyes and she always wore a blouse with a respectable pair of pants. Despite only being nineteen, she could have been going on thirty with how she dressed and behaved. And sitting in the front row since the first day she arrived, Professor Hill had plenty to say on the matter. “So, you’re implying a conspiracy?” She asked. Professor Hill grinned, but shook his head. “I’m not implying anything. I am a teacher. If what I teach you makes you think there is a conspiracy, that is up to you to think about.” “So it’s up to us to decide?” Malary from several rows back, asked. She was the eldest of the class. At seventy-eight, she joined the class out of boredom. And while Professor Hill had hoped that she would have brought a calm and level-headed atmosphere to the classroom. Instead, she brought snark and an unyielding opinion on life based on her own experiences. Experiences that had served her well enough to go to college in her golden years. But had little bearing on the modern world and the struggles of young people today. “It’s not about deciding,” Professor Hill shook his head as he gestured up to the projection. Hovering in the middle of the room was a three-dimensional image of a man in a black suit. It covered him from head to toe. “It’s about constructing a valid argument, or hypothesis on the likelihood that this man, was a victim.” “That’s Xenon, isn’t it, Professor?” Professor Hill shot Sabrina a professional smile. “Correct. Does anyone know much about the man?” He watched several hands raise, before the professor shook his head. “Outside of hero work.” At those words, all the hands went back down again. “I’m not surprised, and don’t worry. The specifics of his life aren’t in the exams.” Professor Hill waved his hand in the familiar gesture the AI that ran the room recognised to change to the next slide. The image of Xenon shrank and moved over, while a newspaper article blew up. It was a simple announcement from the births and deaths section. And the name highlighted in the article was one… “Dean Herrison,” Professor Hill turned back to the class. “Through accessing public records, I have compiled a small amount of available information.” Waving his hand, a third window popped up with the relevant stats. “Born in ninety-three, both parents were professionals. He had a full scholarship to a prestigious university running an exchange program to Switzerland. But that all stopped when he tested at fifteen like the rest of you.” “They pulled Dean from his school, home and subjected him to six years of intense training, coming out as a B-grade hero the world knew as Xenon. Can anyone tell me what his powers were?” “Force field projections,” Sabrina chimed in immediately. Professor Hill gave her another professional smile. Of all the students in this class, she was the most dedicated. “Correct again, Sabrina. Xenon could