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Evil Queen Transformation

Bound to Evil

They didn’t crawl out of myths, they tore their way through them. Twisted beasts, forgotten monstrosities, returning to remind humanity why even remembering their names once felt like a mistake. The sky cracked. Fire fell. Oceans boiled. Cities bled. No warning came, only monsters, and with them a power system of unknown origins. Salvation perhaps, but not for all. It gave no strength to the unworthy, no shield to the coward. But to the brave and the gifted, it gave claws. As for the gods... they stood still, silent. But not necessarily uninvolved. For Lazar, the apocalypse was terrifying, sure. But mostly inconvenient. Nothing ruins carefully plotted revenge like the end of civilization. Most people crumbled. Lazar didn’t. Hope was a lie, luck was noise—he’d never relied on either. Cold, analytical, merciless: traits that made him dangerous before the fall. Now, they made him untouchable. The skills he’d honed for vengeance were the very ones demanded by this new world. And vengeance doesn’t vanish just because the world ends. It waits. He walks the ruins with people cut from the same jagged stone. Survivors, killers, outliers who aren’t just tolerated—they’re chosen. Lazar doesn’t carry dead weight. He builds a pack. They cross blood-soaked cities, twisted forests, and battlefields drowned in ash. The new world obeys one rule: evolve or die. Power comes at a cost, and hesitation gets you eaten. But the monsters aren’t the only predators. Some gods want their relevance back. Some humans want order. And some just want Lazar dead—because he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t follow, and doesn’t flinch. There’s a storm coming. Bigger than the one that ended the world. And Lazar intends to walk straight through it. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello, I'm Barbare, the author. I hope you will like this novel and that you will help me improve it if you have something to criticize, I already wrote a novel in the past but I am far from being an expert after all. If you like it let me know by adding it to your library or vote for it. I hope you have as much fun reading as I wrote, or more because the writing process is not always fun. Good reading.
Barbare · 1.7M Views

Queen(s)

"History is written by those who survive. Myth is what remains when truth is too dangerous to speak." Long ago, the world was not ruled by kings or empires, but by Queens beings woven from the very fabric of magic itself. Five Queens, each the living embodiment of elemental power and divine will: The Flame Queen, fierce as fire and just as consuming. The Ice Queen, keeper of memory and time's endless frost. The Shadow Queen, mistress of secrets and the veil between life and death. The Nature Queen, heart of growth, spirit, and renewal. And the Light Queen, shining beacon of hope, healing, and illusion. Yet above them all rose the Black Queen—the true sovereign who held the essence of all elements within her. She was the fulcrum of balance, the eternal ruler whose presence bound the others in harmony. Together, they ruled from Elaria, the Sacred Kingdom—a realm suspended between worlds, where magic poured from the very stones, and the skies shimmered with a thousand hues of power. There, peace was not a hope—it was law. Magic flourished, and the land breathed with eternal life. But peace is fragile. Beneath the shimmering towers and golden courts, a shadow stirred—an ancient betrayal that was not born of the Queens’ own hearts, but of a force unseen, a traitor cloaked in love and loyalty to a crown beyond the Queens’ reach. The War of Falling Stars tore the heavens asunder, casting the Queens into exile and sealing away Elaria from the mortal world. The skies burned red. The earth wept tears of ash. And magic withdrew, fading into myth. For three centuries, the world lived in silence, the Queens reduced to whispers and faded legends. The magic they wielded was lost—hidden, locked away by a spell woven from hope and despair alike. But the kingdom never forgot. And now, beneath the blood-red moon, a crimson beam splits the night sky—the sign of their return. From forgotten corners of the earth, girls with no memory of who they were awaken, marked by power that refuses to sleep. They walk among us, unaware that the fate of all rests in their hands.
bigtiffs · 9.7K Views
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