روايات وقصص ضمن Miraculous Images

Mirage’s P.O.V “If you see the blood-works closely, both Mirage and Alpha Krimson have the same proteins in their blood in higher quantities.” Daisy pointed out to the projector screen, which had an image of several circular or oval shaped bug-like “cells” swimming in a pit of more such bug-like cells. “The two images are nearly identical. The only difference is the amount of adrenaline in definitely higher for both of them, but more so in case of Mirage.”

The Mirror of Desires was one of the most revealing rituals of the solstice. In the Hall of Reflections, tall enchanted mirrors lined the walls, showing not only one’s physical form but also flickering visions of deepest, hidden longings. Guests were encouraged to stand before them and confront what their hearts truly craved before the final nights.

As long as the Reincarnation Mirror was in his possession, even if his identity was exposed and he faced powerful foes from all sides, he would have the confidence to escape unscathed—or even strike back. Mystic Vale slowly channeled power through his fingertips, a strand of interwoven black light pouring into the mirror. The once unremarkable ancient mirror instantly glowed with a faint, soft white halo, gentle yet immense, faintly inscribed with mysterious patterns of reincarnation that drifted across the surface like flowing galaxies, exuding the weight of countless ages.

My image finally started blurring, but it’s not my family that’s reflecting back at me this time. It’s Creed, bloody and bruised. He screamed as the chains that held him rattled. The mirrors surrounding him played images of burning buildings and people running. I can hear their screams, their innocent. Just as fast as they came, the images vanished. They were replaced by a battle, but I don’t recognize anyone. The image of a black wolf is positioned above the battle in the mirror. An image of a vampire was on the mirror next to it. I can hear screams of pain and heartbreak as I watch the victims from both sides fall.

Instead, I raised my hand and summoned an image of Anton—his face, calm and gentle, floating between us like a memory caught in starlight. “Do you remember him?” I asked quietly. Mira’s eyes flicked toward the image, but then she looked away with a shrug. “I’ve seen a lot of men’s faces.” “Please,” I said, my voice stronger this time, firm enough that it made her blink in surprise. “Morpheus has taken his body. He’s inside of him. We need you to help bring him back.” Her gaze shifted again, this time narrowing. I knew she was about to walk away, so I revealed the painting—the one of her and me together. A piece of a dream long gone, but not forgotten.

“The monks said it was where souls linger when they’re too bound to the living world to move on. No one’s ever returned from it.” “Then let’s change that.” He stepped through the arch. The mist coiled instantly, sliding across his skin like silk. The moment Mireya followed, the arch sealed shut behind them with a low, echoing groan. They were surrounded by mirrors. Hundreds of them—tall, narrow, uneven, stretching up into the dark. Each one held a reflection that didn’t match reality. Some showed the forest. Others, the monastery. Some showed Kaelen himself—but older, wounded, or standing over graves he didn’t recognize.

she whispered. Syra squeezed back. “I don’t think so.” She looked around. “I think it’s us.” Something moved at the edge of the glass horizon. Sera tensed. “Did you see that?” Syra didn’t blink. “Yeah.” A figure stepped through the mirage slow, deliberate. Dressed in black. Eyes rimmed in familiar red. It was Mira. But not quite. Not a ghost. Not a hallucination. This Mira was younger. Sharper. Almost… elegant.

His eyes caught on a footnote at the bottom: See also: Fated Bonds for cases of supernatural attraction overriding species instinct. Nathan froze. The Special Section required faculty permission, but the wolf in him recognized opportunity. He waited until the librarian stepped away before slipping behind the circulation desk. The Special Section door opened with a creak that set his teeth on edge. Inside, the air smelled different—older, heavier with magic. His night vision sharpened as he scanned the shelves until he found it: Fated Bonds: When Instinct Overrides Reason. The cover felt strangely warm under his fingertips, bound in what his wolf recognized immediately as wolfskin.

a woman murmurs. She’s not talking about what just happened when she says Miracles. She’s talking about people—very special people. Radar is a Miracle. So am I. There are seven of us in the District. The name Miracle has nothing to do with Powers, though every Miracle but me has one. The name was given long before any Powers evidenced themselves. It was bestowed upon us at birth. Indeed, our births WERE the Miracle. We live in a world of dichotomies. There are the Befores and the Afters, there’s Inside and Outside, and most scarily, Here and There. There’s no dichotomy for the Miracles, though. We are singular, unique.

I whispered and almost immediately, my appearance changed. The clothes I wore turned into a red gown. My own "once in a while" sceptre found its way into my hands. My hair became longer and every right thing about me changed to the magical form I switched to. "Woah!" Steve exclaimed as he stared at me with surprise and shock. I turned towards the part of the city that caught fire and stretched my sceptre towards the area. Immediately, the fire died down and smoke was the only thing that remained. I stretched the sceptre towards every corner of the Spears' mansion, thereby invoking and assigning some of my protection powers to the house and everything in it. None of the inhabitants would get