webAppInput

SceneIdQuery

myProfile

scene

query SceneIdQuery(
  $id: ID!
  $webAppInput: WebAppInput
) {
  myProfile(webAppInput: $webAppInput) {
    ...MyProfile_myProfile
    id
  }
  scene(id: $id) {
    ...Scene_scene
    ...SceneMedias_scene_16LRdq
    id
    order
    rating
    title
    seoTitle
    seoDescription
    isPublished
    isScheduled
    publishedAt
    content
    story {
      ...Story_story
      id
      isMine
      commentsAccess
    }
    prevScene {
      id
    }
    nextScene {
      id
    }
  }
}

fragment JobInfo_job on AiGenerationJob {
  id
  type
  status
  currentStage
  attemptCount
  maxAttempts
  lastErrorCode
  scheduledAt
}

fragment MediaStatusFields_media on Media {
  id
  status
  generationError
  activeGenerationJob {
    ...JobInfo_job
    currentStage
    id
  }
}

fragment MyProfile_myProfile on User {
  id
  name
  email
  isAdmin
  hasEverPaid
  isEmailConfirmed
  isEmailNotificationEnabled
  isTelegramNotificationEnabled
  isTempPassword
  avatar
  cover
  about
  contacts
  support
  telegramId
  vkId
  availableLimits
  frozenLimits
  urlSlug
  topUpPackages {
    id
    price
    currency
    toBalanceLimits
    bonusLimits
    totalCreditedLimits
    USD
  }
  availablePaymentProviders
  aiGenerationCosts {
    plan {
      size
      cost
    }
    characterSuggest
    ideaExpand
    sceneWrite {
      length
      cost
    }
    mediaGenerate
    videoGenerate
  }
  activeGenerationJobs {
    id
    type
    status
    story {
      id
      authorTitle
    }
  }
}

fragment SceneMedias_scene_16LRdq on Scene {
  id
  story {
    id
  }
  mediaAttachments(viewMode: READ) {
    id
    media {
      ...MediaStatusFields_media
      id
      type
      origin
      previewSrc
      mediaSrc512: mediaSrc(size: 512)
      mediaSrc1024: mediaSrc(size: 1024)
      videoPosterSrc(size: 1024)
      userPrompt
      finalPrompt
      rawPrompt
      mediaAttachments {
        id
        story {
          id
        }
        scene {
          id
        }
        character {
          id
        }
      }
      embeddedInScenes {
        id
      }
    }
  }
  sceneCharacterStates {
    id
    character {
      id
      name
    }
  }
}

fragment Scene_scene on Scene {
  id
  order
  displayOrder
  title
  rating
  isPublished
  isScheduled
  publishedAt
  minWaitersToPublish
  waitersCount
  readCount
  content
  story {
    id
    isMine
  }
}

fragment Story_story on Story {
  id
  title
  publicDescription
  type
  size
  narrativeType
  rating
  hasCharacters
  status
  isPublished
  isMine
  publishedAt
  likesCount
  favoritesCount
  displayDirection
  plotGenres
  settingGenres
  moods
  tropes
  displayContentWarnings
  sceneAtmospheres
  publishedStats {
    scenesCount
    wordsCount
  }
  author {
    id
    name
    urlSlug
    avatar
  }
  characters {
    id
    name
  }
  fandoms {
    id
    urlSlug
    translation {
      canonicalName
      id
    }
  }
  myState {
    isLiked
    isFavorited
    isWaiting
    id
  }
  lastPublishedScene {
    id
  }
}


The cool air of the night pressed against Saitama’s skin as he navigated the labyrinthine streets leading away from the dojo. Several hours had passed since his conversation with Bang, and the weight of the old master's words still sat heavily in his chest, a dull, nagging pressure that he could not simply punch away. He turned a sharp corner, his red boots crunching softly on discarded gravel and damp cardboard, when a sudden, prickling sensation erupted at the base of his neck. It was not a physical threat that he recognized—no monster growl, no psychic pressure of an esper—but rather a strange, cold vibration in the air. It felt like a ripple in a pool of still water, a dissonance that tasted of metallic ozone and stagnant time. He stopped abruptly.

The alleyway ahead was narrow, flanked by towering brick walls that seemed to lean inward, suffocating the moonlight. A solitary street lamp at the far end flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting long, frantic shadows that danced against the trash-streaked pavement. Saitama took a slow, deliberate breath, his yellow jumpsuit rustling in the silence. He adjusted his white cape, his eyes scanning the gloom with a calm, analytical focus that belied his inner turmoil. He knew that vibration. It was the same chaotic frequency that clung to the note tucked deep within his hidden pocket.

The cool air of the night pressed against Saitama’s skin as he navigated the labyrinthine streets leading away from the dojo. Several hours had passed since his conversation with Bang, and the weight of the old master's words still sat heavily in his chest, a dull, nagging pressure that he could not simply punch away. He turned a sharp corner, his red boots crunching softly on discarded gravel and damp cardboard, when a sudden, prickling sensation erupted at the base of his neck. It was not a physical threat that he recognized—no monster growl, no psychic pressure of an esper—but rather a strange, cold vibration in the air. It felt like a ripple in a pool of still water, a dissonance that tasted of metallic ozone and stagnant time. He stopped abruptly.

The alleyway ahead was narrow, flanked by towering brick walls that seemed to lean inward, suffocating the moonlight. A solitary street lamp at the far end flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting long, frantic shadows that danced against the trash-streaked pavement. Saitama took a slow, deliberate breath, his yellow jumpsuit rustling in the silence. He adjusted his white cape, his eyes scanning the gloom with a calm, analytical focus that belied his inner turmoil. He knew that vibration. It was the same chaotic frequency that clung to the note tucked deep within his hidden pocket. «Defeat in His Own Hand», part 5. Fanfiction — One-Punch Man.

The Shadowy Encounter. Defeat in His Own Hand — One-Punch Man fanfiction | Fanfica

The Shadowy Encounter

Caped Baldy

A routine monster fight ends with an odd discovery: a note tucked under a rock, predicting Saitama's first defeat to the exact second. He laughs it off—until small coincidences start stacking. When he finally examines the handwriting, his blood runs cold. It's his own. From the future. Now he must race against a ticking clock, dodging every battle and deadline, to break a prophecy that feels more certain with each passing hour. Can he outsmart a future he himself wrote?

Defeat in His Own Hand — The Shadowy Encounter

Parte 5: The Shadowy Encounter

Continuar leyendo