The page still writhed.
Even after Darius had burned the rewritten village from existence—cleansing the fragment where his myth had been softened, bent into palatability—the Codex Null did not stop twitching.
Words appeared on its pages again.
> And lo, the tyrant-king saw the beauty of peace and laid down his crown.
"No," Darius growled.
He slashed his hand across the page. Ink bled. The line vanished.
Nyx stood behind him, arms folded, eyes narrowed. "We need to know where this thing writes from."
Azael arrived then, stepping through the mirrored veil of the Sanctum. His robes were heavier than usual, draped in silver glyph-chains. The air bent around him.
"I have seen the pattern before," he said. "Once. Long ago."
Darius didn't look up. "Speak."
"There is a being known only as The Observer. It lives outside the Spiral. Outside myth. It doesn't interfere… not directly. But it edits. Refines. Makes things… presentable."
