Novel & Cerita Distorted Realities

“But even if I didn’t trust him, I am positive enough that he would never do something like that.” I risk losing myself in his intense gaze, and I shake my head to save myself from getting hypnotised by his dark eyes. “How is that?” “Distorting reality is highly strenuous, especially in such a situation. Someone would notice this during or after the interrogation. Also, because keeping the mindlinks and this interrogation room upright while actively making up two different realities is impossible without creating flaws. But that’s not the only thing.” “What’s the other thing?” I ask, now more intrigued than preoccupied.

“The stock’s stabilizing. The board went into a panic — they believe I’ve combined assets with you. They won’t move against us.” I turned fully to face him. “Against us? There is no us, Dante. The thing is, that’s the point. This — whatever this is — it’s not real.” He leaned back in his chair, looked up to face me. There it was again, that still certainty that twisted the air around him. “You think reality matters to the people watching? They don’t want truth. They want spectacle. And we give it to them.” The room went too still. I hated the way his logic worked best, but in the worst way as well. "So what if the truth does matter?" I asked. "When it's not rumors and talks but contracts, in

I nod and take a cautious step past the barrier that divides the bridge from the rest of the realm. I remember one specific detail from the times Rizor came for me. He always had me in a cave that had little lighting. I have a hunch that he is keeping my mother's consciousness in that exact same cave. Darkness surrounds me beyond the barrier. The moon is full and pale but lacks its radiant glow. I stare at it mesmerized as if I'm seeing it for the first time. It's so easy to forget that this is a world of fatal illusions. A place where nightmares thrive due to the favorable conditions of pure utter human fear.

he said angrily. -"Everything you said is just speculation and not reality. I'm really sorry to disappoint you, but as I told you before, your expectations were very high from the beginning" I reasoned. - "But ...but the bond...the mates' thing...you know..... it... can do anything. It can do ... wonders!" he exclaimed disappointingly.

Hyde nodded, "Don't be so protective, says the person who materialized out of thin air when Amy was interrupted." Jeremy was speechless. The new song, My Dearest Delusion, was the story of a girl who ran away from her wedding after becoming disillusioned with love, stumbled through her escape, and unexpectedly found her true love along the way. Amy prepared a beautiful, intricately-woven wedding dress, and a pair of white high-heels that were especially suited for running away from weddings.

“Other realities aren’t just contained anymore, they’re preparing a strike. They’re coordinating assault to eliminate paradox-threat before it spreads. You have approximately three days before a unified multi-reality attack destroys sealed existence entirely to prevent variant merger from escaping.” We’re not just dealing with accelerated degradation anymore. We’re facing execution by neighboring realities that decided we’re too dangerous to let live. And I’m standing here as a coalition of two hundred forty Mabels realizing my synthesis just condemned everyone in sealed reality to death.

Even failed futures had moments of love. Moments of courage. Moments of hope. The parasite had spent ages harvesting despair while ignoring everything else. Now all those forgotten moments returned simultaneously. The void erupted. The parasite screamed. Its form destabilized. Cracks spread across its body. Across its certainty. Across its identity. "No!" The white divergence blazed brighter. Not attacking. Revealing. The parasite stumbled backward. The failed realities no longer obeyed it. The memories no longer obeyed it. Truth no longer obeyed it.

It was the compost heap of human consciousness, the place where the unprocessed became fertile, and the fertile became dangerous, and the dangerous became necessary. And she saw, with a clarity that burned her eyes, that the Realm was sick. It was swollen with debts that had never been paid, with truths that had never been spoken, with masks that had never been removed. The weight of human denial had made it heavy, had made it hungry, had made it into the thing that had been pursuing her—the faces in the white, the presences in the red, the voices that whispered from the dark.

“And the concept. Except theirs isn’t about preserving truth. It’s about flooding the network with personalized ‘truth experiences.’ Each one tailored to the user’s biases, fears, and emotional triggers. It’s like our Project Lumen, but weaponized.” Elise’s eyes widened. “They’re counterfeiting authenticity.” “Worse,” Raven said. “They’re making it feel more real than reality.” --- The first reports came from Santiago. Trusted volunteers there woke to find friends sharing Lumen content—short videos, poems, even songs—that echoed EmberRoots themes but with subtle distortions. Historical events twisted just enough to shift blame. Personal testimonies warped to pit allies against each other. By

"He's a distant relative, and life was hard on him, so we gave him a job. We thought we'd give him a chance to raise his family, but greed got to him, and he tried to break Charlie and Sophia up. "He knows Charlie and Sophia have no kids, but they're too deep in love, so a homewrecker wouldn't work. He made up a story about Charlie's illegitimate daughter and subjected her to cosmetic surgery since she was barely a toddler. They made sure she ended up looking like Charlie." I couldn't believe that was the truth. All it took was some distant relative's deception and an outsider's lies, and our relationship crumbled. Sophia and I bought the story like some dumb damsels.