CHAPTER 141 — Correction EventThe first correction did not announce itself with fire or thunder.It arrived as agreement.In the river-city of Calden Row, the bells rang at dawn as they always had. Merchants opened their stalls. Fishermen cast nets into water that had fed their families for generations. Children ran along the bridges, laughing, chasing stories they hadn’t learned how to fear yet.Then the river straightened.Not violently.Not suddenly.It simply… decided.The long, wandering curve that once cradled the city became a perfect line, cutting through docks and homes alike. Water did not surge or spill—it adjusted, flowing forward with relentless efficiency. Buildings in its path did not collapse so much as fail to remain relevant.People stood frozen, watching the city revise itself around them.No screams at first. Just confusion.Then the relics reacted.Amulets flared. Blades hummed. Defensive sigils activated automatically, responding to perceived instability. But in

CHAPTER 143 — The Quiet That BreaksThe scream did not belong in Verity.It cut through the town like a blade dragged across glass—raw, unmeasured, wrong. Elliott was on his feet before he realized he’d moved, heart slamming as the sound echoed once and then vanished, swallowed by the town’s perfect geometry.Kael was already at his side. “That wasn’t allowed,” he muttered.Mara’s face had gone pale. “No,” she said. “That was human.”They followed the echo to the eastern quarter, where the streets narrowed and the symmetry felt tighter, more enforced. People stood outside their homes, calm expressions firmly in place, eyes tracking the group with polite curiosity—but no urgency.No concern.As if nothing had happened.Lysa grabbed the arm of a passing man. “Did you hear that scream?”He smiled apologetically. “A disturbance was resolved.”“Resolved how?” Lysa pressed.The man gently freed his arm. “There’s no need to worry.”That was when Elliott felt it—a pressure at the base of his

Chapter 145: The Road That Refuses to EndLeaving Verity turned out to be harder than saving it.Not because the gates were locked—those had collapsed along with the idea that the city needed permission to exist—but because every step away felt like walking out of a memory that hadn’t finished forming yet.The road beyond the city was narrow, uneven, and stubbornly real.No shimmering illusions.No helpful whispers telling travelers who they were supposed to be.Just dirt, stone, and the distant promise of somewhere else.Elliott walked at the front, hands shoved deep into his pockets, cloak pulled tight against a wind that didn’t care what he’d just accomplished. The others followed in loose formation—too tired for banter, too wired for silence.For once, the Relic didn’t argue.That worried him.“Okay,” Corin finally said, breaking the quiet like it owed him money. “I’m saying it. This feels wrong.”Mireya glanced sideways. “Wrong how?”“Like when you finish a book and there’s still