Queen Evilia's throne room had descended into complete chaos. Shattered mirrors littered the floor like broken dreams, and the once-pristine carpet was now a sea of spilled face powder and glitter. The monarch paced in front of her last surviving enchanted mirror, her violet eyes blazing with unrestrained fury, her regal composure shattered by the failure of her beauty campaign.
"Thirty-two villages," she hissed, her hands trembling as she crushed a peasant's crude caricature of her in one fist. "Thirty-two villages are mocking their queen over this 'Filter Rebellion' nonsense!" She flung the paper aside, as if the mere existence of such mockery was an offense punishable by death.
The magic mirror, with the perceptiveness only a mirror could possess, tactfully angled itself to avoid showing the Queen's increasingly obvious split ends. "To be fair, Majesty, the drawing where you're depicted as a cross-eyed hedgehog was technically treason—"
"ENOUGH!" The Queen's voice erupted in a shriek so piercing that a nearby chandelier shuddered and came crashing down. She seized the mirror's gilded frame with both hands, shaking it violently. "I want a spell. Something dramatic. Something that will make the entire kingdom grovel before my beauty!"
Outside the door, Snow White paused mid-sneak, arms full of stolen spellbooks. She leaned against the doorframe, peeking through the crack with a mischievous grin. "Oh, this'll be good..."
Deep within the Forbidden Vault, the royal wizard, who had once been the most powerful spellcaster in the kingdom, now trembled as the Queen unearthed the infamous Oculus Vanitatis—a cursed camera obscura forged from dwarf-forged brass and home to a trapped vanity demon. It was a device of legend, one that could do much more than capture images.
"This artifact," the wizard whispered in reverence and fear, "captures not just images, but souls."
The Queen's grin could have curdled milk. "Perfect."
Back in her chambers, Queen Evilia aimed the device at her face. Her voice was low, almost purring with malice. "Let's see those peasants mock this."
KRAKOOM!
A bolt of magenta energy shot out from the Oculus Vanitatis, striking the Queen's reflection with a burst of unholy power. Instantly:
Her bed curtains transformed into screaming faces that writhed and begged for mercy.
Her pet peacock, once a symbol of elegance, now cowered in the corner, clutching its head in distress as it spiraled into an existential crisis.
The royal portraitist, who had been quietly trying to avoid any further involvement with the Queen's antics, now found his hair permanently neon pink. His screams of despair echoed through the castle corridors.
"Interesting," mused the mirror, its voice tinged with a faint admiration. "You've invented magical deepfake technology."
Snow, who had been watching the whole spectacle through a keyhole, gulped. "That's... actually terrifying."
By noon, the Queen's dark magic had spread across the kingdom's reflective surfaces like a plague. Every puddle, every polished shield, even the butcher's knives displayed the same haunting, flashing hashtag:
#EviliasGloriousReign
This flashing message often appeared under the most unflattering images of the Queen—such as one where she was mid-sneeze, looking like a drunken gargoyle.
Snow, rallying the dwarves in a clearing in the forest, held up her fist. "We have to stop her before—"
WHOOSH!
A magical energy blast vaporized their campfire. Snow turned just in time to see the Queen hovering above them on a floating selfie platform, her Oculus Vanitatis glowing ominously. She cackled maniacally.
"BEHOLD!" she cried, her voice echoing across the clearing. "MY ULTIMATE FILTER!"
Doc, squinting in confusion, adjusted his glasses. "That's just a bad tan with sparkles."
KABLAM!
The retaliatory blast sent the dwarves diving for cover, as the force of the explosion sent dirt and debris flying. Grumpy came up, spitting leaves out of his mouth. "I told you we should've invested in anti-magic shields!"
Snow rolled behind a nearby statue, her heart pounding. "Okay, new plan - we need to overload her magic!"
The climactic battle between the Queen and Snow's ragtag group of rebels raged across the palace rooftops. Snow, armed with nothing but a polished serving tray, used it as both shield and reflector. She bounced the Queen's spells back at her with a fierce determination.
"Give it up, Stepmother!" Snow shouted as the Queen's carefully applied contouring began to melt under the pressure of her own magic. "Your magic's fading!"
"NEVER!" the Queen roared, aiming her camera obscura directly at Snow's face. "SMILE FOR THE AFTERLIFE, DEAR!"
KABOOM!
The explosion that followed:
Shattered every window in the kingdom.
Temporarily turned the moon into a giant winking emoji, its smug expression dominating the night sky.
And—perhaps most catastrophically—revealed the Queen's true unfiltered face to all.
For the briefest moment, there was utter silence.
The Queen, her flawless magical facade shattered, stood frozen. Her once-perfect features—now stripped of their enchanted gloss—were exposed to the world. The skin under her eyes sagged slightly, her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and the sharp angles of her jawline looked somehow... softer. Her bare, makeup-less face was surprisingly human.
A single peasant, standing at the back of the crowd, scratched his chin and squinted up at the Queen. "...Huh," he muttered, taking in her raw, unfiltered appearance. "She's actually kinda... cute when she's not trying to murder people?"
The Queen, her hands trembling, slowly touched her face. She stared at her reflection, her mind grappling with the unexpected truth. For the first time in years, she felt a flush of something foreign—embarrassment. Her cheeks turned pink.
Snow, cautiously lowering her makeshift shield, smirked. "Told you natural was better."
A surviving mirror fragment, still twitching from the Queen's violent magic, wheezed, "Technically," it gasped, "you're both—"
CRUNCH.
Snow stomped on it, silencing the fragment with a decisive snap.
The Queen stood in stunned silence, her gaze still fixed on the remnants of her perfect self-image. Slowly, she straightened, realizing she had no more spells to cast, no more magic to fall back on.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to breathe.
Maybe being human wasn't so bad after all.
But she'd never, ever, let Snow see her like this again.