Fractured Reality Novels & Stories

“This isn't about the money. You're beginning to create a scene and if you keep this up, there'll definitely be a brawl here tonight.“ “Doesn't sound like a bad idea, does it?“ Arthur grinned, arching a brow. “I don't think you've noticed, but you're out-numbered.“ “I don't think you've noticed but I'm not a guy to give up something I want without a fight,“ “You've got a death wish. Why did you choose this nightclub to make it happen?“ Arthur was silent. But deep down, he was yelling out his frustration. He didn't have a death wish. Not when he's been dead for a long time. And that's why, so desperately, he's holding on to the insane reality playing out tonight. He needed to be alive again.

But really, I was just trying not to break. Why are they looking at me like that? Did something happen? Or am I just… imagining things? Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe guilt was rewriting my reality. I took a breath and began to walk to my seat like I hadn’t noticed anything. Except that someone was already sitting there. It was Nora. Her legs were crossed, one ankle bouncing as she flipped through a novel like it was a sunny afternoon in her own living room. My bag strap tightened in my hand.

I fell into the brick instead. “Careful!” He warned, right before I braced myself against the solid part of the wall separating us. “What—I thought this wall was brick. How did you—” Nathan saved me from trying to complete my sentence and just answered right away. “They wanted us to believe it was brick, but it is really concrete.” “Umm, I don't know if that's any better. How did you just...break it down?” “When we are separated, you get in more pain and I get stronger. Because I am already a wolf, though, I'm even stronger than normal.” He offered, extending his hand through the small hole in the wall.

The moment they touched— everything broke. ⸻ Not shattered. Not destroyed. ⸻ Rewritten. ⸻ The room didn’t flicker this time. ⸻ It shifted. ⸻ Like reality itself couldn’t hold a single version anymore. ⸻ Walls stretched— then snapped back. ⸻ The floor rippled— like water under pressure. ⸻ Ethan stumbled hard. ⸻ “OKAY—THIS IS WORSE—THIS IS WAY WORSE—”

Those few words cracked through every lie he'd been telling himself. He wanted to say time travel wasn't real. But he knew that handwriting. The way he wrote the N in her name. He'd designed it himself, with that tiny personal flourish. After all these years, it was muscle memory. Since he couldn't deny writing the notes, Joshua switched tactics. [Even if I did write them six years from now, so what?] [None of that has happened.] [I lost focus for a while. I got distracted by something new.] [But right now, I've never thought about leaving you.]

Elias immediately shakes his head. “No.” “You exploited it.” “No.” “You watched people suffer.” Elias’ smile fades. “We watched humanity survive.” Silence. He continues. “You think the Fracture was a disaster.” “It was.” “It was also proof.” “Proof of what?” “That love can alter reality.” Elaine’s expression hardens. “It destroyed reality.” “It revealed reality.” ⸻ Elias presses a button. A projector comes to life. An old black-and-white photograph appears. A group of scientists.

Susan Jackson has always aspired to be a successful fashion designer. Unfortunately that dream was beginning to look impossible after numerous rejection from the number one fashion company in New York. Faced with the opportunity to compete with various students for the opportunity to finally become a designer in the Beautyspy fashion company. Susan will do anything to make sure her dreams come true, even if it means working closely with her old crush Joseph Crown, CEO of Beautyspy fashion company and her despicable step sister Amelia Friday.

"Sister, it's here. The thing I sensed. It's manifesting now." "Where?" "Everywhere. Nowhere. Between all spaces. Thelma, get everyone to safety. This is beyond anything we've faced." But there was no safety. The fracturing intensified, reality itself developing cracks that showed something beyond existence. And through those cracks, it came. The Architect manifested above Unity City Seven as an impossibly complex geometric entity. Not solid but also not transparent. Existing in dimensions I could perceive but not understand. Shapes within shapes, angles that hurt to look at, patterns that made my brain scream.

The fracture did not stabilize. It did not collapse either. It is distorted. Not outward into the world, not inward into itself—but sideways, into something that did not follow any known axis of reality. The clean, precise boundary it had maintained fractured into uneven layers, as if its own structure could no longer agree on how to exist. The concept of error did not pass. It lingered. And the entity— I struggled with it. For the first time since its arrival, its actions lost efficiency.

“Because she left bodies behind her. Because she made a choice, Zara. Just like you did when you walked into my territory with a blade.” I shook my head. “No—no, that’s not the same—” “It is.” “It’s not!” “It is.” “IT’S NOT!” my voice broke completely this time. And that was the moment. The exact moment something inside me cracked. Not shattered. Not destroyed. But Split. Clean down the center. Two truths. Two realities. Neither fitting. Neither aligning. My breathing turned uneven. My vision blurred again. This time I couldn’t stop it. Memories pushed in.