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Library Of Ruina Purple Tear

The Rebirth of the Purple Phoenix

In a world ravaged by chaos and loneliness, John's life lacked purpose and meaning. The constant protests outside his apartment mirrored the turmoil within him, their noise a haunting reminder of the unrest he couldn't escape. Lost in unemployment and isolation, John sought refuge in virtual realms, where he could momentarily escape reality. Yet, his existence felt empty, like an abandoned canvas waiting for a painter's touch. With each passing day, he robotically navigated life, seeking something more. In an unexpected twist of events, a sudden explosion shattered his life, leaving him floating in a mysterious void. As panic threatened to consume him, an otherworldly voice offered him an enigmatic opportunity—to rewrite his destiny, to embrace a higher purpose. With unwavering determination, John accepted the offer, and a blinding light transported him to a new reality. His consciousness had returned, but his senses felt foreign, devoid of sight. Instead, he sensed momentous events unfolding—a significant figure being born, destined to become the emperor of a crumbling empire. John VIII Palaiologos, a historical figure tasked with confronting the mighty Ottoman Empire, was now the role he inhabited. As he grappled with his newfound identity and the weight of his responsibilities, he realized that his journey had just begun. The fate of an empire rested on his shoulders, and he was determined to shape history in a way that would bring hope and transformation to his world. --------------------------------------------- [Author Note:] Updates: 3-4 chapters/week *Miss me? Don't be, I'll be much busier than last time, but do try to write, somehow, I might be a tad below my chapters expectation for a couple of weeks depending on how busy I am.* Cheers!
lordgsh · 279.6K Views

Crimson Tears Of The Divine

Amidst the sea of fallen comrades, their lifeblood staining the earth, a solitary figure rises above the carnage. He stands atop a gruesome curtain of death, his longsword an instrument of divine wrath. In its gleam, one could sense a challenge to the very gods themselves. We were fools to face him; my comrades paid the price in their own flesh and blood. A desperate realization claws at my mind – a realization that I must escape this blood-soaked field and bring dire warning to the holy excellencies. I looked at my remaining comrades they instantly realized what I was thinking. They must know of this relentless force, this harbinger of doom. I looked at my comrades and as I turn to flee, fate intervenes, and our eyes lock in a moment of eerie connection. He looked at me and my comrades with his crimson red eyes. He swung his sword towards me. Why is the world upside down? I thought. Then I realized that my head was cut by his crimson sword. Time slows to a crawl as I find myself caught in the deadly dance of his blade. I see the malevolence in his eyes, a reflection of the abyss that has claimed so many. He cut through my comrades without batting an eye. The red moon casts an ominous glow upon the battlefield, and his crimson silhouette, now moving away, becomes a spectacle against the crimson canvas. With an inexplicable calmness, I embrace the darkness. As he strides away, the embodiment of destruction and beauty, I can't help but smile like a fool. Amidst the ruins and the echoes of my demise, I whisper to myself, "Beautiful!" - a final tribute to the twisted elegance that accompanies the brutality of this merciless crimson devil.
CelestialMountain · 2.6K Views
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