The air shattered.
Not like gss.Not like stone.
But like a story that had just been told wrong.
A contradiction.
A mistake.
And the world did not know how to correct it.
Darius felt it first.
The weight of the rewrite pushed against him.
Stronger than before.
More violent.
The Thanatarchy was not simply erasing now.
It was trying to fix what had broken.
Ais’s voice cut through the chaos. "Darius, what the hell did you just do!?"
He didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
But he could feel it.
Something had gone wrong.
Not just with this rewrite.
With all of them.
The Inquisitor staggered.
It never hesitated.
Never showed doubt.
Never reacted to anything but its own absolute certainty.
But now— It had stopped.
Its featureless head tilted slightly.
As if it was listening to something Darius could not hear.
Then— It spoke.
"Error detected."
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Darius' pulse smmed in his chest.
Error?
The Thanatarchy wasn’t supposed to have errors.
It rewrote history perfectly.
It erased things without fw.
So why—why had this rewrite failed?
The woman who had spoken his name was still here.
She should have been erased.
But now, reality did not know what to do with her.
Because she remembered.
Because she had resisted.
Because Darius had made her say his name.
The Inquisitor twitched.
The rewrite staggered again.
Something in the air fractured.
And Darius saw it.
Not with his eyes.
Not with his mind.
But with something deeper.
The structure of the rewrite itself.
The hidden yers beneath reality.
The Thanatarchy had always seemed absolute.
But now— He saw the gaps.
He saw the imperfections.
And for the first time— He saw how it could be broken.
The Inquisitor spoke again.
"Initiating Correction."
Darius reacted instantly.
"Say my name again!"
The woman gasped.
The rewrite shed out.
The Inquisitor moved.
And then—
She whispered it.
"Darius Vaelthorne."
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The city cracked.
The rewrite colpsed.
For the first time in history—
A Thanatarchy rewrite failed.
Darius staggered.
The streets flickered.
Buildings froze between two versions of themselves.
Some old. Some new. Some half-erased and unfinished.
People stumbled in confusion.
The rewrite had been stopped mid-process.
The city of Vornis was now neither rewritten nor real.
It was broken.
And the Thanatarchy had no answer for it.
Ais grabbed Darius’ shoulder.
"Darius, we need to leave—now!"
He turned.
The Inquisitor was not moving.
It simply stood there.
Its body flickered.
As if it, too, was breaking.
Because this had never happened before.
Because this was not part of the script.
Darius took a slow, sharp breath.
"You’re just as confused as we are, aren’t you?"
The Inquisitor did not answer.
Because it could not.
Because for the first time—it had no orders.
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The sky darkened.
Not from clouds. Not from nightfall.
But from something else descending.
Something stronger than an Inquisitor.
Something that would not allow this mistake to continue.
Ais cursed under her breath.
"They're sending something bigger, aren't they?"
Darius exhaled.
"Yes."
Ais pulled her dagger. "Then let’s go before it gets here."
Darius turned back to the woman.
She was still there.
Still real.
Still remembering.
She met his gaze.
"What do I do now?"
Darius’ fists clenched.
"You run."
The wind shifted.
The rewrite tried to restart.
The Thanatarchy was already moving to correct everything.
Darius turned to Ais.
"Let's go."
They ran.
And behind them—
Reality continued to unravel.
