Books On Reality Novels & Stories

“Like conjuring the reality before creation was the best place to go to? Why couldn’t you just go back in time yourself and see it for yourself?” “Come on Elly, you know that even if I wanted to, without you, it’s next to impossible. Come on, please. Just this once”, he said stretching out his left hand on the table. She stared at him for a while, not knowing whether to bluntly decline, or conform to what he asked. She needed some rest too you know. Maybe one of the Euphoria realms wasn’t such a bad idea. So in one swift move, she placed her ringed hand into his, and then all of a sudden, time stopped, and reality gradually began to change. They both watched as the image of the bar itself gr

Anything resembling that of the real world is simply a Coincidence. Thank you once again for reading. Please continue to support me and I assure you all that I won't let you down. Don't forget to leave a review, comment and also keep the gems coming. Thank you so much. Dropping book 2 soon.

Their hearts were broken and they were still in shock from everything that had happened. The horrible image of May in the hole totured summer as she sheepishly followed the rest of the campers on their way back to the camp, it was hard to breath, she had no idea why she was even making an attempt to live at that point when she all she wanted to do was die. The wind gushed loudly and suddenly, and it scared them all. They stopped as the movement of a creature passing swiftly could be felt. "Stay calm everyone we are not so far from the camp " John was optimistic but it wasn't enough to keep them still, the quivering sound of one of the campers was a signal that it was only a matter of seconds

on it in large font. "It was written by some guy named Philip Jameson and he studies ancient traditions of lost cultures. When I first saw the book, I thought it was just another children's book but after flipping a few pages, I found this," She said and opened to a particular page that had a picture of the mark on their palms. "Well, I'll be damned," Joe said. "This isn't a fictional book, boys. Everything written in here is true," Lydia said with a sparkle in her eyes.

To her surprise she wasn’t shocked to be speaking to an animal but she wondered in her heart what this could mean? “Am I dreaming?” she asked. “Not exactly.” Well then am I dead? Dead? What does that even mean? What is death? Can conscience be killed? Can someone’s passions and dreams be silenced? Who you are can’t be stopped. She replied. Our life can’t be stopped it only takes another form. She then asked her how she got here. Well she told her “I’m not really sure about that?” There are many ways to our world and many reasons people are brought here. Some come after death. Some are brought here in flashes because the pain of their own world. Some have a very special purpose I was promised

He calmed himself down and again looked at the book 'This can only mean one thing, this book is fake. No one will ever believe this as true. It depicts confusion on readers between the reality and not knowing that the book exemplifies magic with the word witch. Then it was only meant to be a story to read. Nothing more nothing less'

Chapter 56: On a Throne Of Blood and Shadow The moment my fingertips skimmed the surface of the book, the world crumbled. I wasn’t falling. I wasn’t flying. I was unraveling. A million shards of reality shattered around me, warping, folding in on themselves, each with a flickering image—glimpses of things that were, things that could be, things that never were. And at the center of it all—

Theodore looks up “…What now?” And then Reality itself trembles Not breaking Not shifting Reacting To something approaching Something even all of this Wasn’t meant to awaken

At the center of it, in the place where the light is most concentrated and most still, there is a book. It does not look like what people imagine when they hear the word journal. It does not look like leather and ink and pages worn soft with handling. It looks like something that has existed for so long that it has stopped trying to look like anything in particular and has settled into simply being itself. Its edges are not entirely fixed. Its surface is not entirely stable. It exists the way certain truths exist, undeniably, uncomfortably, in a way that makes everything around it look slightly less real by comparison. It has not been opened in a very long time.

my voice quavered. Janus exhaled, leaning against the back of the chair again. “There is no reality.” I looked at Janus, confused. “What do you mean?” “My dead family is a reality for me, but not for others. They don’t see them, they don’t hear them. Meanwhile, your dreams, your nightmares are a dimensional reality for you, but not for me. Because I don’t see or hear them. So, what exactly is the reality? This world? This society? What if you are dead and this world you see is an illusion your mind has created to make you feel as if you are alive?”