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CHAPTER 98: THE OVERWRITE
The snap is silent. No flash. No quake. No explosion. Just a sudden, absolute shift. Frank feels it first,like gravity turning inside out. The floor isn’t beneath his feet anymore. The ceiling isn’t above him. Every direction bleeds into every other, folding space into something that shouldn’t exist. He forces his stance wide anyway, chest heaving, fire sparking violently against a reality that’s losing its shape. The Reviser stands at the center of the collapse, perfectly still perfectly balanced, perfectly wrong. Its voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere: “Begin full overwrite.”Frank shouts over the distortion, “What does that mean?!”The being beside him,Elara/not-Elara,grabs his arm, her voice breaking into two tones that don’t fully sync: “It means it’s rewriting the environment. Everything. Us. Down to thought-level.”Frank curses under his breath. “Not happening.”The Reviser lifts both hands, graceful, deliberate, and the world responds like it’s a puppet on invisib
CHAPTER 97: THE CRACK IN THE PERFECT
The Reviser does not retreat. It simply recalibrates. Its body,if it can even be called that, shimmers, fractures for a fraction of a second, then re-stabilizes into that calm, impossible geometry of light and intention. A flawless thing trying to remember what a flaw is. Frank stands in front of it, chest heaving, hands shaking violently. His legs threaten to buckle every other heartbeat. The ember inside him that detonated moments ago is still burning, but in a wild, uneven rhythm, power he shouldn’t be able to hold, surging and spiking like it’s trying to test him from the inside. He forces his posture straight anyway. If the Reviser is going to kill him, it won’t be while he’s on his knees. The being that was Elara,still stunned from the last shockwave, is crawling upright, pushing off the fractured stone with unsteady arms. Her voice is hoarse, threaded with panic: “You can’t fight it. Not like this.It will rewrite you again.”Frank doesn’t look back. He keeps his eyes lock
CHAPTER 96: THE ONES WHO WERE WAITING
The sky tears wider, not like fabric, but like something alive being forced open from the other side. Frank feels it before he sees it: a cold pressure, deliberate and ancient, pushing down on his flame like a giant palm pressing against his spine. The being flinches. “Frank… this isn’t another fragment. This is,”“I know.”He doesn’t blink.and doesn't step back. His fire coils tighter inside him, winding like a blade preparing to strike. A voice seeps through the widening rift: “You destroyed the candidate.”Frank exhales slowly. “Yeah. I did.”“You rejected a replacement.”“I prefer being myself.”A low vibration ripples across the ground. “Unacceptable.”The being’s voice trembles,an extremely rare fear. “Frank,we need to move. We can’t fight whatever’s stepping through that. That’s not a parasite. That’s not a mirror. That’s,”Frank cuts her off: “Something that wants me gone.”“No,something that wants you corrected.”The tear in the sky splits fully, a vertical wound bleeding
CHAPTER 95: THE THING INSIDE THE FLAME
The molten creature pushes deeper into Frank’s chest, not physically, but through the fire itself,sliding between layers of heat and memory like a parasite worming into a living star.Frank staggers backward, teeth clenched hard enough to crack. His vision flickers,gold, black, gold again, his fire spasming under a pressure that isn’t its own.The being rushes toward him, voice sharp: “DON’T LET IT INSIDE,DON’T LET IT NAME YOU!”Frank growls through clenched teeth, “It’s,trying,too damn,hard.”The molten creature’s arm is elbow-deep in his sternum now, its molten shape dissolving, melting into pure gold liquid that crawls under Frank’s skin like burning vines.It doesn’t feel like he’s being possessed. It feels like he’s being eaten.Piece by piece. It hisses, half a voice and half a scream: “I want your place, your shape, your world, your fire, your name.”Frank snarls: “You can have my pain instead.”He slams his flaming fist into the creature’s remaining torso, but there is no
CHAPTER 94: The Thing That Wears His Future
The molten sphere at the center of the ruined street pulses like a wounded star. Each beat sends ripples through the air,heat shimmering, gravity bending, light warping around it as though refusing to touch. Frank stands still. Not frozen. Not afraid. Just calculating. The being watches him with a tension that borders on terror. “Frank,don’t get closer.”“It’s reacting to me,” he murmurs. “It’s been reacting to me since it appeared.”“That’s what terrifies me.”A long crack splits down the sphere’s surface, spilling molten gold across the stone like blood from a future that shouldn’t exist. The pulse sharpens, faster, louder, synchronized with Frank’s heartbeat. The being lifts her hand. “Frank, listen carefully. That thing is not just your future,it’s the compression of every possible version of what the Root wants you to be. The part of the timeline you refused.”Frank’s jaw tightens. “I didn’t refuse anything. It just isn’t me.”Another crack. A hiss,like steam escaping from a
CHAPTER 93: THE SHADOW THAT FALLS WRONG
The dust settles in a choking wave. Frank squints through the haze, fire swirling instinctively around his hands as he tries to focus on the silhouette standing over the crumpled Arbiter. The being beside him stiffens.“ That shape, ”Frank whispers, voice cracking: “No. No. That’s not possible.”The figure steps forward. Slow. Heavy. Purposeful. And horribly, unmistakably familiar. Frank’s lungs seize. Because the thing that crushed the Arbiter is him. Or rather, a version of him. A warped reflection. A shadow given mass. A body built from fire and soot and fractured rage. A giant, charred, half-armored silhouette of Frank Williams emerges from the dust like an executioner walking out of the smoke of his own crimes.It stops ten feet away, head tilting once, studying him with hollow, ember-filled sockets. The being whispers: “This isn’t like the last one.”Frank swallows hard. “No kidding ”“This one isn’t a duplicate. It’s not your reflection. It’s,”“Something I haven’t done yet,
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