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horror

Lord of Crimson Madness

London, 1878. Beneath a shroud of gray fog, a young aristocrat awakens in a lavish bedchamber with no memory of how he arrived there. Only a phantom pain remains, throbbing in his neck as though an unseen blade had once passed dangerously close to his throat. His name is Elias Montagu. His servants call him the Duke of Manchester. They dress him in silk, fasten his insignia, and prepare him for a crucial session in the House of Lords. There is only one problem. Elias remembers none of it. And the throne belongs to King George V. Something is wrong with London. Cathedrals rise above the city, devoted to forgotten gods whose names seem to shift from tongue to tongue: Senaiy, Uire, Siny, Urey, Senry, Ueis. Their scriptures contradict one another, yet their followers worship with absolute devotion. Their stone idols possess no faces that Elias can recognize, only hollow eyes that seem to follow him long after he has turned away. The moon hangs unnaturally low over the city, stained crimson against a sky that feels far too vast. Big Ben stretches impossibly high above the rooftops, its distant chimes carrying a hollow note that leaves Elias with the uneasy certainty that he has heard them before. Then the memories begin. Not memories of this world. Ruined cities beneath unfamiliar skies. Machines powered by a force Elias cannot name. Towers collapsing beneath a darkness without stars. And, buried among these fragments, the image of a colossal crimson eye staring directly into his own. Something is watching him. Something that may have been waiting for him long before he was born. As Elias moves through gilded ballrooms, secret societies, and corridors where servants whisper of things they refuse to name, he begins to question the identity everyone insists belongs to him. The more he remembers, the less certain the world becomes. In a world built upon forgotten truths, those who seek clarity are not called prophets, scholars, or kings. They are called madmen. And among them, one title is spoken only in a whisper. The Duke of Madness.
Darkbluemoon · 80.9k Views

Beast Anima

Long before recorded history, the world was said to belong to Primordial Creatures beings of immense power who shaped mountains, seas, and skies through their will alone. Though they faded into myth, their essence never truly vanished. From that ancient world flows Qi, the living current that binds soul to flesh, beast to human, and life itself to the balance of the world. As humanity grew, they learned to observe the creatures around them. Shrines were built, traditions were forged, and through generations of study, humans discovered that Qi was not simply magic but a reflection of the soul’s true nature. By awakening it, one could transform into a beast form, a manifestation of the spirit within. Yet Qi is neither good nor evil. It can be shaped into Order, bringing stability and harmony, or twisted into Chaos, unleashing volatile and destructive power. Both paths demand balance, for those who lean too far risk corruption, instability… or losing themselves entirely. Runes and ancient artifacts can guide the flow of Qi, enhancing its power or bending it beyond its natural limits. But every shortcut carries a cost. In this world shaped by power, belief, and forgotten truths, a boy named Vyvian, from a quiet village, sets out on a journey to train and awaken his own abilities. But when he returns home, he discovers a truth so devastating that it shatters everything he once believed. With the past behind him and the future uncertain, Vyvian is forced to walk a path far greater than he ever imagined, one that will lead him to question the very foundations of the world itself. For in a world where the soul determines power, and power shapes destiny… the greatest danger may not lie in beasts and relics but in the truth humanity was never meant to uncover.
Gen_V71 · 50.8k Views