The ink pulsed like blood beneath his skin.
DarkSun stood motionless as the images from Aeris's touch seared through his mind—ghosts of a forgotten timeline crashing back like waves from a storm no one else remembered.
They had fought together. He knew that now. Somewhere, in a first draft of reality, she had been everything—partner, protector, proof he wasn't alone in the ink. Then the Codex rewrote his story, cut her out, stitched something else in her place.
She shouldn't exist anymore.
And yet… here she was. Alive. Real. Glimmering with narrative weight only he could perceive.
The Codex Fragment at his hip trembled again. Another page flared open. More ink-spun prophecy.
> "A ghost reborn. A clause remembered. The Manuscript shall break."
"Tell me everything," DarkSun said, voice low but sharp.
Aeris nodded once. "Not here."
The ink around them had begun to stir. The Atrament Library, even sealed as it was, was still bound by the Codex's gaze. Speaking of what wasn't canon in its walls could draw attention. Or worse—trigger a purge.
DarkSun motioned to Elias. "Prepare a Writ Zone."
Elias blinked. "Now? That requires Sequence ink and three glyph circles—"
"I'll write it myself," DarkSun interrupted. "Just give me silence and chalk."
---
Minutes later, they stood within a room blanketed by shimmering glyphs. The walls were coated in living symbols—ancient, squirming lines that devoured sound and light. The Writ Zone was imperfect, temporary, but it shielded their words from the Codex's reach.
Aeris leaned against a bookless wall. Even here, where every surface usually teemed with text, the ink recoiled from her. She wasn't meant to exist. She was an anomaly. A character who had outlived her death.
"You were part of me," DarkSun said, mostly to himself.
"No," she corrected. "You were part of us."
Aeris stepped into the center of the circle, her voice quiet but resolute.
"There were nine of us. Nine original characters born from the first Codex Draft. Each with a Sequence tied to a Narrative Thread."
She raised her hand and projected a flickering image—a glyph wheel spinning slowly, each spoke marked with a name: DarkSun, Aeris, Kael, Mire, Solen, Vyrra, Ellin, Rhiv, and Vei.
"But when the Reauthor intervened—when the Codex was corrupted—six of us were written out. Edited mid-story. Our names removed from the registry. Our arcs severed."
DarkSun stared. "I thought I was the first."
"You were the only one who survived the Rewrite," she said. "Because you were already breaking your role."
Elias paced outside the glyph ring, trying not to interrupt, but failing to hide his shock. "Wait… you're saying DarkSun's entire story was originally part of something bigger?"
Aeris didn't answer him. Her eyes remained fixed on DarkSun.
"You weren't meant to be the protagonist, D. Not alone. You were the Keystone. The one meant to bind the Nine together. When they erased the others, your mind tore. You rewrote yourself to survive."
DarkSun's heart thudded. The Codex hadn't chosen him. It had left him.
"Where are the others now?"
Aeris's expression darkened.
"Scattered. Corrupted. Some went mad inside the Bleed. Others were caught by the Editor and turned into Enforcers. One or two… broke free. Like me."
She stepped closer, her voice a whisper.
"We call ourselves the Manuscript Breakers now. Survivors of the first draft. Exiles. Outlaws to the Canon."
"And you're back to… what? Reclaim the narrative?" DarkSun asked.
"No," Aeris said. "We're here to destroy it."
---
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Even the ink on the walls stilled.
DarkSun stared at her. The Aeris he remembered had been calm, balanced—always seeking to preserve story structure. But this one… she had sharpness in her eyes now. Purpose. Rage.
"Destroying the Codex won't bring the Nine back," he said.
"Neither will playing by its rules," she snapped. "You think you're free now because you advanced a Sequence? Because you gained a new Layer?" Her voice trembled. "That's nothing, D. You're still a character in its story."
She touched his chest.
"And every page you turn… was written by someone else."
DarkSun pulled away. "I'm not your enemy, Aeris."
"No," she whispered. "But if you won't help us, you're in the way."
The air between them shimmered. Narrative tension. The kind that precedes a turning point.
But Elias spoke up before it could break.
"Wait. If you all got erased… how did Aeris come back at all?"
DarkSun's jaw tightened. "The door."
"The Bleed," Aeris confirmed. "It wasn't supposed to open yet. Something forced it. Something deep within the Codex cracked—and when it did, the Lost Chapters stirred. I slipped out before the Editor noticed."
DarkSun processed that quickly. "The Bleed wasn't just a breach… it was a summons."
"And not just for me," Aeris added. "Others are coming. You'll feel them soon. Forgotten names. Old arcs. Dead threads rewritten with teeth."
DarkSun looked down at the Codex Fragment, still pulsing. It had been quiet since Aeris touched it—as if ashamed.
"So, what happens now?" Elias asked.
Aeris didn't blink.
"Now… we make a choice. You help us break the Canon. Or we write around you."
---
That night, DarkSun walked alone through the rooftop gardens of Nocthaven's southern tower. The air smelled of ash and ink-blossoms. Every brick beneath his feet bore remnants of abandoned stories—each one a whisper waiting to be told.
His mind burned with conflict.
Aeris was back.
And with her… the truth. That he hadn't been the chosen one. He had been the last one left.
He looked up at the sky. But there were no stars. Just pages drifting above—thin, parchment clouds carrying invisible ink across the heavens. Every night, the Codex rewrote constellations to match the next chapter.
He hated it.
But did he hate it enough to break it?
His Sequence Layer Two gave him vision, yes. Power, yes. But also burden. He now saw how much of his path had been bent, warped, cut and stitched to suit someone else's narrative flow.
A flicker of motion caught his eye.
He turned.
And saw a figure watching him from across the rooftop.
Not Aeris. Not Elias.
This one was tall, garbed in robes of ink-drenched threads. A cowl shadowed the face—but beneath it, no features. Just a quill suspended mid-air, scratching a book that floated without support.
The Chronicler.
A forbidden scribe of the Reauthor. Neither villain nor ally. Just a recorder of all things not meant to be known.
"You're not supposed to be here," DarkSun said calmly.
The Chronicler said nothing. Only wrote.
DarkSun approached slowly.
"What chapter is this?" he asked.
The Chronicler paused, tilting the floating book toward him.
On the page, it read:
> "Chapter Eight: The Manuscript Breakers Return."
Then below it, scrawled in bleeding ink:
> "Chapter Nine: The Editor Supreme Arrives."
DarkSun's eyes narrowed. "Already?"
The Chronicler resumed writing. But before fading into smoke and silence, it turned a final page, revealing a name DarkSun hadn't seen in years.
Kael.
Another of the Nine.
Another erased one.
Still alive.
Still reading.
---
DarkSun returned to the library to find Aeris meditating within the Writ Zone. Her hands rested on a glyph spiral, drawing unknown sigils into the air.
"You're searching for the others," he said.
"I found one already," she replied without opening her eyes. "He's nearby. Kael."
DarkSun stepped beside her. "I saw him too. Or rather... I saw his name."
Aeris looked up sharply.
"Then it's beginning," she said.
He nodded. "But if the Editor Supreme is coming next, we don't have much time."
Aeris gave a grim smile. "That's why we don't wait for time. We write over it."
DarkSun met her gaze.
And for the first time since the rewrite, they stood as partners once more.
Not bound by the Codex.
Not obeying its canon.
But wielding its ink.