Novels by Pheel-Grip

The cage shattered. Not with sound, with release. Light burst outward in a sphere of collapsing geometry, dissolving the Anchor Realm’s perfect symmetry.Currents twisted, folding into new shapes. The lattice rippled like fabric hit by a storm. Prime stumbled backward, half-blind, the Aria-shard clutched to his chest like a burning heart.Jason hit the ground beside him, gasping. The Fulcrum crumpled entirely, their form flickering to barely a silhouette, four selves stretched thin and ragged.Collapse hissed in shock. “IMPOSSIBLE. ANCHOR RULES ARE ABSOLUTE”But the Anchor Realm trembled again. A pulse rolled through it, not a command, not a correction, not a judgment. A hesitation.Jason forced himself upright, trembling as if the shock still echoed through his bones. “What… what just happened?”Prime stared at the Aria-shard glowing against his palm. Except, it wasn’t glowing the same way. It wasn’t fading. It was growing.The shard pulsed like a heartbeat. Aria’s heartbeat. Prime w

The Anchor Realm shrieked. Not in sound, in distortion. Space wrinkled like scorched fabric. Time staggered. Currents split.The tri-colored lattice buckled and twisted, threads snapping like overstressed nerves. And at the center of it, the Fulcrum was coming apart.Prime and Jason pulled with everything they had, gripping the Fulcrum’s dissolving hands, trying to drag them free.But the Anchor held fast, tightening like a fist around its chosen node, forcing correction with brutal precision. The Fulcrum’s outline flickered violently, gold, white, and uncolor peeling away like petals ripped off an impossible flower.Aria’s voice echoed weakly: No—stop—please, Jason’s voice fractured: We’re losing ourselves, The Third’s voice tremored beneath them: We must integrate, And the Fulcrum’s unified voice, the one Prime had come to trust, was barely holding on: “Prime—Jason—let go, please, you’ll be pulled in”Prime roared through clenched teeth: “I’m not letting you die!”Jason tightened hi

Jason hung suspended in the air, not by force, but by decision. The Anchor Realm held him as lightly as breath, gently as a hand cupping water, yet with the terrifying certainty of a verdict waiting to fall.Threads of tri-colored light wound around him like vines deciding how to bloom. Prime clung to Jason’s arm, heels skidding across the shifting surface. “Don’t pull away!” Prime yelled.“I’ve got you, Jason, I’ve got you, stay with me!”Jason’s eyes were wild. “I can’t, Prime, it’s in my head”He gasped sharply, as if something reached inside him. “Let me go, before it drags you too!”Prime snarled through his teeth. “I’m not letting go! I’ve watched too many people get torn apart by this universe! You’re not adding yourself to the list!”The Fulcrum stood utterly still. Their glow dimmed. Their form trembled. Their expression—whatever could be read from three interwoven selves, looked like grief sharpened into dread.Collapse writhed in its tethers, fractals flaring. “ANCHOR… EVAL

Jason stepped through the crack like a man emerging from a dream he never agreed to enter. His hair disheveled. His breathing ragged.His clothes torn and ash-streaked, the same battle-worn state Aria had arrived in. But his eyes His eyes were unmistakably Jason’s: sharp, alive, searching.Prime stumbled backward, nearly falling through the unstable Anchor threads. “No,” he whispered.“No, no, no—this isn’t possible.”But the Anchor Realm had already begun to warp around the contradiction. The Fulcrum, now containing Aria’s essence, stared at Jason with a look of such profound shock the currents themselves dimmed.Their tri-colored glow flickered violently, destabilizing in the presence of a second Jason. The merged Fulcrum whispered: “…We do not understand.”Jason looked around wildly, then locked onto the glowing form before him. “You”His voice broke. “What… what are you? What happened to Aria?”Prime grabbed him by the shoulders. “Jason, listen to me. This gets messy, so start wit

Aria stood between two impossibilities. Behind her, the crack she’d slipped through pulsed faintly, the path back to the mortal worlds she’d known.Ahead of her stood the Fulcrum, Jason-Aria-Third, merged into a being who carried entire realities on their shoulders.The Anchor Realm quaked with every second of indecision. Gold-white-uncolor threads warped. Collapse strained against its bindings.Worlds flickered in distant currents. The Fulcrum was unraveling. Aria was destabilizing everything simply by being here.Prime stood between them, trembling. “Okay,” he whispered. “Nobody move. Nobody decide anything. Just… breathe.”But no one breathed. Finally, Aria spoke. “Jason… you didn’t answer me.”Her voice cracked. “What do you want me to do?”The Fulcrum’s form flickered, a crushed inhale in the shape of light. Prime grabbed her shoulders. “Aria, don’t ask him that.”Her eyes, wet, furious, afraid, snapped to his. “Why not?”Prime’s voice trembled. “Because he’ll choose the option t

Not a rift. Not a tear. Something stranger, a breach that should not exist inside the Anchor Realm, where only the Fulcrum’s will and Collapse’s counterweight held reality in absolute suspension.Prime felt the air, or whatever passed for air, shiver. The Fulcrum stepped forward, their outline blazing brighter in instinctive defense. “No one should be able to enter this place.”Prime swallowed. “That’s what I figured.”Collapse strained against its bindings, the tri-colored tether flickering violently. “WE… FEEL… INTRUSION.”It growled, voice ragged. “ROOT… THREATENED.”The crack finished opening with a soundless lurch. A silhouette stepped through. Prime blinked once. Then twice. And his heart stopped.Because standing at the edge of the crack, framed in cascading light from the worlds above, was, Aria. Not the golden resonance inside the Fulcrum. Not the merged echo. Not a memory.A physical Aria. Breathing. Present. Real. Prime’s voice cracked like splintering glass. “...No.No, th