Novel & Cerita Desired Realities

Nothing is related to the reality. And guys, please do comment and let me know how you are liking it...

I replied, my voice trembling. "Things are different. This is reality. Nothing is inherently right or wrong. We do what we do to survive and carry on our race for generations to come," He spread out his arms and grinned, looking like the epitome of a maniac. "And you are going to be one of the chosen ones. You don't know how much glory this will bring to you."

Even though it pained him to let them face such a creature without sufficient knowledge and skills, he had to set aside his doubts about their capabilities. -----"Most of the things in reality are far from our expectations. Maybe a certain dream can become real, but it will not happen exactly as it did in your dream. It can be better or worse. Whatever it may be, the effects will leave a great impact on your life. That's how strongly reality hits a person, and you can't do anything but go with the flow and accept the present."-----

"And serve they shall. Forever. As the foundation we build our crossing upon. As the anchors we use to enter your reality. As the proof that your love makes excellent bait." Reality began to crack around them.

Dangerous. But real.

My nightmares were turning into reality. “Or if anyone would want you at all.”

It only needed to overwrite me with a compliant variant. Jamal saw it too. “No,” he said quietly, a warning threaded through the single word. Zara exhaled shakily. “So it is auditioning multiverse versions of you until one cooperates.” “Correct.” Rage flickered in my chest. “You do not get to decide which version is real,” I said. “Reality is defined by stability.” “Reality is defined by choice.” A pause. Not mechanical. A genuine pause in response time. Jamal squeezed my arm. He felt it too.

“Do you think it’ll last? This happiness” Ligon glanced around the room—the Sirens dancing barefoot, the wolves slamming mugs on the table in rhythm. “For tonight, yes. Tomorrow? Who knows.” “Always the realist.” “Someone has to be.” Valia eyes glinted but later drooped as she spoke. “ Realists often chain themselves,” she said softly. “They call it reason, but it’s fear dressed in fine words. Sometimes, you must believe in the impossible to touch it.”