The world shuddered.

  Not like an earthquake. Not like a storm.

  But like a mistake had just been made.

  A crack in the rewrite.

  A pause in the erasure.

  For the first time—reality hesitated.

  And Darius felt everything shift.

  The woman gasped, clutching her chest.

  She had just spoken his name.

  And in that moment—she had not been erased.

  Her body had flickered, on the edge of vanishing.

  But then the rewrite had stumbled.

  As if the Thanatarchy itself was trying to process what had just happened.

  Darius’ breath was unsteady.

  He had forced someone to remember his name in the middle of an erasure.

  And it had disrupted the process.

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  Ais swore under her breath. "Darius, what the hell did you just do?"

  Darius didn’t answer.

  Because he wasn’t sure himself.

  His mind raced.

  He had stopped people from forgetting before.

  But this was different.

  This time, he hadn’t just saved a memory.

  He had interrupted the rewrite itself.

  That should not have been possible.

  And yet—it had happened.

  The woman was breathing hard, her hands shaking.

  "I… I was disappearing."

  She looked at them, eyes wide.

  "But now… I’m still here."

  Her voice was unsteady, breaking.

  Like she was fighting something inside her mind.

  Darius clenched his fists.

  The rewrite was still trying to pull her back into erasure.

  She had spoken his name.

  And now reality itself did not know what to do with her.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Then—the air shifted.

  Darius felt it instantly.

  Ais’s grip on her dagger tightened.

  She felt it too.

  Something was coming.

  Not the slow, creeping rewrite.

  Not an Inquisitor.

  Not a Watcher.

  Something worse.

  The Thanatarchy had noticed the fracture.

  And now—they were coming to correct it.

  Darius turned sharply. "We need to move."

  The woman hesitated. "I—I don’t understand—"

  Ais grabbed her arm.

  "There’s no time to expin. If you stay here, you’ll disappear."

  The woman staggered, still dazed.

  But she followed.

  Because deep down—she knew Ais was right.

  They ran.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The city was colpsing faster now.

  The Thanatarchy was accelerating the rewrite.

  They were not going to allow another mistake.

  Buildings that had stood for centuries vanished mid-step.

  Shops, towers, streets—all swallowed by the creeping erasure.

  People in the streets did not scream.

  They did not run.

  Because they did not realize what was happening.

  They simply vanished.

  Forgotten in real-time.

  Darius’ pulse pounded.

  But even as they ran—he kept watching.

  Watching for another crack.

  Another hesitation in the rewrite.

  Because now, he knew the truth.

  The Thanatarchy was not perfect.

  And if something could be broken—

  Then it could also be destroyed.

  They reached the edge of the city just as the first shadow appeared.

  A figure not entirely human.

  Not entirely real.

  But overwhelming in presence.

  Ais cursed.

  "Inquisitor."

  Darius gritted his teeth.

  No.

  Not just an Inquisitor.

  This one was different.

  Sharper.

  Darker.

  And the moment it spoke—the very ground trembled.

  "You are not written."

  Darius felt it instantly.

  The force pressing against his existence.

  The unbearable pull of being removed.

  His name fractured.

  His vision blurred.

  The Thanatarchy was not going to hesitate this time.

  They were going to erase him completely.

  Ais’s voice cut through the air—

  "DARIUS VAELTHORNE!"

  The force recoiled.

  The erasure staggered.

  For a fraction of a second—it failed.

  And Darius was still there.

  Still standing.

  Still resisting.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The Inquisitor tilted its head.

  It had felt it too.

  The hesitation.

  The mistake.

  And for the first time—Darius saw something else in its movements.

  Not just certainty.

  Not just control.

  A flicker of something close to… doubt.

  The rewrite had been interrupted.

  That was not supposed to happen.

  But it had.

  And now, the Thanatarchy had to correct the error.

  The Inquisitor raised its hand.

  The air thickened.

  The city around them trembled.

  Reality itself was about to colpse.

  Darius acted instantly.

  He turned to the woman.

  "Say my name again."

  She hesitated.

  But only for a moment.

  "Darius Vaelthorne!"

  The air fractured.

  And this time—the world truly cracked.