A Nascent Kaleidoscope. Novels & Stories

The shattering of the mirrors did not bring silence; it brought a deafening, harmonic resonance that vibrated through the very marrow of Cattleya”s bones. Each shard of glass, suspended in the air by the force of the energy she had unleashed, began to rotate, spinning like a miniature, razor-edged turbine.

It shimmered in the moonlight, a celestial blend of silver and blue, like crushed stars. "What is that?" "Ground wolf bone. Moonflower petals. And a drop of my own blood." He extended his hand towards me. "Breathe it in. But be cautious. The vision it imparts will reveal your true self. And truth is not always easily perceived." Hesitantly, I leaned forward and inhaled. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of color.

Reality outside the viewport didn't just bend; it shattered. The blue sky and fluffy white clouds of Earth were instantly replaced by a blinding, chaotic kaleidoscope of impossible colors. This was The Bleed—the hyperspace between dimensions. It was a terrifying, mesmerizing ocean of raw data streams, dormant magical energies, and the skeletal remnants of erased realities.

*"Subject 01... Phase One complete. Initiating Phase Two: The Multiverse Protocol." I froze. I looked at the sky. High above, beyond the violet ring, I saw a giant, glowing eye blink. And then, the sky began to peel away ok like old wallpaper, revealing a universe of a million different Aethelgards, all burning in the dark.

Like what he said, I held it with both of my hands and just focused on it. “This starfish is really pretty,” I said to him, trying to make my self calm. I don’t want to think of wordly things as he is just trying to make me enjoy here. “Yeah, its so pretty, really pretty,” he said and I faced him again. He ain’t looking at the starfish when he said that. His eyes are directly on to me. He’s not taking them of me. We started at each other for a while and I decided to let go of that stare. I can’t handle it. I just can’t handle his stares at me. The way he look at me, I don’t know. I’m not handling it. It’s making me crazy. Here comes the unusual feeling again. It’s a feeling that I can’t n

A wall was up and I was looking in from a small window on the outside. I haven't even realised it yet, but I have been crying. Wet streams are just flowing without question down my cheeks. I can tell, because it has a ticklish effect on my skin. The doctor noticed me, "Mam this is a private room, I would need you to leave or I will have to call security." As the words make their way into my brain like cutting shears, Noah returns from the alternate universe he was trapped in just moments ago. Our eyes met as the door shut behind me.

My eyes blinked very slowly and I knew I was going to pass out… or worse. The men in the room just watched, anticipating. I blinked once. Mabel was telling her men something about releasing me. I slumped on the floor and couldn’t move an inch. Second blink. Mabel’s hands were engulfed with black clouds of smoke. Her hands were stretched out before her and the smoke twirled and moved around her fingers. Her eyes were all black as her mouth formed words I couldn’t understand. It was like she was in a trans. The room suddenly became very cold and then very warm, before my eyes closed again. My eyes opened once more and I saw green. Everywhere was green. I couldn’t see any other color except gre

Chapter 54: The Ghost in the Glass The silence of the medical bay was deafening. Every beep of the heart monitor felt like a hammer striking a nail into Jade’s soul. She stood before a mirror, watching the subtle, rhythmic pulse of violet light deep within her iris. It was a beautiful poison, a digital cancer that made her feel more alive and more dead than she had ever been.

“She saw me before I was born.” And then the light dimmed. Not the flashlight, the room itself. The corners darkened. The bed vanished behind a veil of shadow. And the sketchbook in Sloane’s hand began to change. Lines appearing on the blank page. A staircase. This one spiraling upward. At the top — a mirror. A single word beneath it, appearing as if drawn by invisible hand: Look.

When that eye in the sky fixed its gaze upon us, it felt as if our hearts had frozen in an instant. It was no ordinary eye; it was like a massive lens through which some distant entity, from millions of light-years away, was observing the structure of our very atoms. As the eye tore through the sky, its color shifted from purple to deep gray. The silver grass began to crumble like pixels, falling apart in an instant. The world we had created—it was nothing more than a fragile illusion.