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The Architect of Madness

It happened. Magic appeared—hundreds of elements flooding the world overnight. At first, it was chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. Stealing, killing, and neighbors turning each other into ash until the dust settled and the Factions were born. Some claimed to be righteous, some embraced the evil, but all of them built their empires on the backs of the "weak" to maintain the world’s new, brutal infrastructure. —"Dayum," Markus muttered, his voice cracking as he felt a wave of soreness wash over him. —"Where the fuck am I... I was sleeping..." His eyes snapped open, but his vision was blurred. Before he could even sit up, a heavy boot stepped near his face. "Stay down, Oneata!" a voice barked. A group of young men in high-end, reinforced gear stood over him, their hands glowing with faint, elemental sparks. "We told you before—don't you dare approach Diana again! Don't get in our way, or we’ll make sure you don't wake up next time." Markus blinked, watching them walk away. He didn't feel fear; he just felt a strange, itchy twitch in the back of his brain. —TF is this guy's problem? —he thought, rubbing his throbbing temples. He stood up, swaying on unsteady legs, and stumbled out of the alleyway. The sight that met him made his breath hitch. —"Is this a dream?" The city was a fever dream of impossible geometry. High-tech cars sped through the streets, but they were being overtaken by people mounting strange, six-legged beasts that breathed frost. Skyscrapers were wrapped in glowing vines, and neon signs hummed with raw mana. Markus looked up and froze: a bald man was soaring through the sky, massive, translucent wings of light shimmering on his back like a bird of prey.
Ciber_Rift · 470 Views