Miranda Sweetness stepped gracefully into her castle, holding the apple and orange—her two captives, Aurelius and Hyperman—with an air of detached amusement. She handed them off to one of her loyal guards.


    “These are for the charity warehouse,” she declared. “Give them to the poor or whatever.”


    The guard nodded without question, taking the fruits to the castle’s massive storage warehouse. There, they were carefully placed in their respective spaces: one in the section for apples, the other with the oranges.


    The Anti-Golem Elves


    Back in her private chambers, Miranda pulled out her MagiOS phone and made another important call. This time, it was to the Anti-Semitic Elves, a controversial group known for their strange ideologies and unparalleled skill in construction and restoration.


    “I have a proposition,” she purred into the phone. “The recent explosions in the city need immediate repairs. I want you to rebuild the institutions in my name.”


    The leader of the Anti-Golem Elves hesitated for a moment, knowing Miranda’s reputation. “And what’s in it for us?”


    “Something you’ve always wanted,” Miranda said, her voice syrupy and enticing. “The first-ever Jew Golem to sacrifice to your so-called purity rituals.”


    There was a long pause, then the leader replied, “We accept.”


    Miranda smirked and ended the call. Things were falling perfectly into place.


    The Repairs


    A few hours later, Miranda marched into the ruined districts with her elves, who were disguised as humble workers. They began to rebuild the damaged buildings under her command, restoring the hospital, bank, and military base. Meanwhile, Miranda made sure to capture photos and videos of herself posing alongside survivors.Stolen story; please report.


    She took pictures of herself with captions like: “Helping survivors!” and “Charity for all!”


    But her supposed kindness was a thin veneer. As she walked among the injured, Miranda casually ordered her elves to dispose of the poor survivors, throwing their bodies into black trash bags and burning them in secret cremation pits. These victims were conveniently labeled as casualties of the explosions.


    The wealthier survivors—soldiers, bankers, hospital workers, and anyone else with substantial funds—were treated with care. Miranda personally healed some of their wounds using her magic, ensuring they’d remember her generosity.


    She smiled and shook hands with these wealthy survivors, taking even more photos to upload to her social media, crafting a narrative of a compassionate, heroic leader who had saved countless lives.


    The Golem


    With the repairs complete, Miranda returned to her mansion, where she retrieved the apple containing Aurelius. This time, however, her spell was different. When she transformed him, he didn’t return as his usual elf self.


    He emerged as a golem—his stone-like body glowing faintly with a radiant sheen. His face still bore traces of his former self, but his new form was a mockery of his origins.


    Miranda examined her handiwork with a sly grin. “How ironic,” she muttered to herself. “A pure, noble golem to serve their twisted fantasies. And they’ll never even realize it’s one of their own.”


    She called the Anti-Golem Elves to her castle, presenting Aurelius as their prize.


    The elves erupted in cheers. They finally had the pure golem they had been dreaming of for years. Aurelius, unable to speak or move against Miranda’s magic, was helpless as they carried him away.


    Miranda waved sweetly at the departing elves, hiding her laughter behind a demure smile. The image of their triumph was so deliciously false, it only deepened her sense of satisfaction. As the elves disappeared into the horizon with their “prize,” Miranda returned to her castle, already planning her next move.