Illusionist Might Cut Them In Half Novels & Stories

Then, he stood still and lowered his head silently. From the corner of my eye, I noticed his shoulders quivering slightly. It was as if he was sobbing uncontrollably, but I simply found it ironic. I put on my sunglasses and strode past him. Knowing very well that those were just crocodile tears, I showed no sympathy toward him. The next day, I met my best friend, Lily. As soon as she saw me, she excitedly told me about all the dramatic events that had happened to Nicholas in the past few years. She even produced a PowerPoint Presentation made by netizens on the internet.

Omniscient It starts with laughter. Not the warm kind. Not the kind that bubbles up in joy or affection. No, this laughter weaves through the trees like vapor and vice, curling through the leaves with a sound that makes the hair on the back of Elliott’s neck stand up. Chris’s hand flies to his axe. “No,” he mutters. “Nope. Absolutely not. We are not doing this again.” “You say that like it’s up to you,” Ilsa says, a touch too brightly, already drawing one of her blades.

I bowed my head and closed my eyes for a second. “HE’S GONE,” I TOLD Aiden, who was still arguing with Glitch. They both turned to me before looking at the place that illusion had been standing, or should I call him Isaac, like Aiden does. If what Aiden says it's true, then it was his name before he became Illusions. Not any of us give a fuck about that; only Aiden does. “Shit,” Aiden muttered, glancing around to see where Illusions could have gone.

“I don’t care what this is! I won’t let you—won’t let him—destroy you or anyone else!” The golden light between my hands exploded outward in a blinding pulse, washing through the nightmare. The red sky cracked, the ash swirled violently, and Carter’s figure froze mid-step, caught between the corrupted illusion and my power. And then, slowly… he blinked. For a split second, it was him again. Carter, real, alive—or at least recognizably him. The hollow glow in his eyes softened, and he staggered, gasping like he’d just surfaced from water. The illusion wavered, shadows snapping back toward nothingness, the red sky splintering into shards that dissolved.

"Acceptable. Six years. Two services. No calling debt during immediate mortal danger." We shake. The same cold burn. Magic sealing the bargain. "Tonight," I say. "We need illusions tonight." "What kind of illusions?" "Duplicates of my crew. Fake versions charging into Mordaunt's trap. Draw his hunters out. While real versions attack from behind." "How many duplicates?" "Ten. Make them convincing. Fight like us, move like us, die like us." "Die like you," flower-hair repeats. "You want illusions that appear mortal? That's complex magic."

How could they identify the true threat among so many perfect copies? They were halfway to Liam's position when three Darius illusions converged on their formation. Isla lunged forward, her jaws clamping around one illusion's throat. To her surprise, it didn't dissipate—it struggled, bled, fought back with very real strength. Ken and Taylor broke formation to engage the other two, while Miranda maintained her position, protecting her artifact. The fight was brief but brutal, ending with three bodies dissolving into shadow and smoke. *Not illusions,* Isla realized with growing alarm. *Projections. Physical manifestations. He's channeling his consciousness into multiple bodies.*

Scarlett's mind raced as she recalled the stories she had read, searching for any knowledge that could aid her in this dire situation. Taking a hesitant step forward, Scarlett noticed a dust-covered mirror in the corner of the room. Curiosity piqued, she approached it, her reflection staring back at her with determination. As she reached out to touch the mirror's surface, it rippled like water, revealing a hidden passage behind it. Without hesitation, Scarlett stepped through the mirror, entering a labyrinth of illusions and traps. The maze seemed to shift and change at every turn, disorienting her senses. Scarlett's heart pounded in her chest as she reminded herself that every illusion was

The glasses that hadn’t already been trampled or blasted to sand began to fly in all directions, shattering against some of her minions who barely reacted to the razor-sharp projectiles. I locked eyes with Dain a second time, and for a split second wondered if Callum truly had vanished within thin air. It felt as though I’d uttered the question out loud, because the eyes I stared into—bright with both the sting of betrayal and luminous stars, began to multiply. The same image of Dain shimmered into existence before solidifying, crafted by Callum’s illusion magic. They were scattered throughout the club, each one on their knees and clutching their throats—hair the color of midnight and skin l

I said as the first illusion walked in through the door. "Today is your lucky day," I said attacking the illusions as they came barging in flock. Frank used both the gun and his ability to kill off the illusions that crossed passed me. We were short handed in men and non of us wanted to leave the others asleep unprotected. "We need to kill Ella and Hannah's illusions before they wake up. Artie is their source and now he is asleep. Soon his powers will wear off and they wake up to see those things", Frank suggested and I dived to search for their illusions.

she muttered, the weight of the pencil becoming heavier that it almost poked a hole in the paper. “You’ve got to calm yourself down, Eve. Just do this so you could finish quickly,” she soothed herself and continued to add more elements to her drawing. It always calmed her down. Coming up with disguises that she and her team could use, then making them come to life through drawing. She thought, “He better have used a private jet. I’ll make sure I get to ride that when I get home.” But as always, the universe hated her. Her phone pinged to show a message from Hugh, “Hey, turns out he’s taking the same flight as you. If you happen to meet him, keep it minimal. Good luck.”