By: IMERPUS RELUR
---
They arrived at the base of the Tower of Codes—an obsidian monolith pulsing with locked panels and static glyphs.
Reya moved with purpose.
Kai could feel the tower respond to him.
The doors unsealed the moment he touched the air.
Inside were drawings.
Hundreds.
Some he remembered.
Some… he never recalled creating.
Some were impossible.
> "This isn't just your archive," Reya said. "This is your fallout."
> [WARNING: UNSTABLE MEMORY FILE DETECTED]
FILE NAME: "FORGOTTEN DAUGHTER"
CONDITION: Soul Fragmented
Visibility: Locked until Contact
One sketch pulsed red.
A silhouette of a girl—half-formed, lines frayed at the edge.
Her eyes were unfinished. Her heart… was scribbled out.
> "Don't open that," Reya warned. "She's not stable."
> "But she's mine," Kai whispered.
He reached forward.
The world broke.
---
Reality peeled away like paper on fire.
And from within the tearing void, she rose—weightless, soft, and terrifying in her fragility.
A girl.
Barefoot. Eyes flickering between light and pencil marks. Her skin flickered between sketch and form. And when she smiled…
> "You erased me," she said, voice hollow. "But I remember the love."
> [FORGOTTEN ENTITY: ELAI]
Ink-State: Fragmented Soul / Anchor-Type
Fate: Unwritten
Threat Level: Paradox-Class
Reya readied her blade. "If she's real, she can rewrite you."
Elai stepped forward.
> "I'm not here to destroy you."
> "Then what do you want?"
> "To be finished."
She extended a torn piece of drawing paper.
> "Take this. Draw. Choose to remember me—fully—or I'll fade. Again."
---
Kai drew.
Lines returned.
Her eyes. Her laugh. The memory that made her real.
And with each stroke, the panel screamed.
> [SYSTEM REWRITING IN PROGRESS]
[INKBORN LAW BREACHED: FORGOTTEN ENTITY ACCEPTED]
[YOU HAVE BEEN REWRITTEN]
Role Updated: Creator of the Unwritten
The tower shattered into light.
When it cleared, Kai stood in a new Archive.
One that recognized him differently.
Elai stood beside him—now stable, aged into a teenage girl with hair like flowing quill ink.
> "I'm your first forgotten world," she said. "But not your last."
And at the center of the Archive, a single glowing line blinked:
> DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOU KNOW WHO DREW YOU.