The failsafe did not arrive.
It unfolded.
Reality recoiled as the sealed layer split open not with violence, but with inevitability. There was no shockwave this time. No sound. Just a spreading absence, like ink dissolving into water, swallowing light, texture, meaning.
Elara’s breath locked in her chest.
The field screamed.
Not in pain
in recognition.
“That thing…” Aurelion whispered, horror stripping the strength from his voice. “It predates enforcement.”
The Creator stood unnervingly still, its luminous form now edged with something colder. “Designation: Terminus Protocol,” it said. “Purpose: narrative cessation.”
Draven stared into the spreading void, jaw clenched. “You’re telling me it doesn’t just kill.”
“No,” the Claimant answered grimly. “It finishes.”
The darkness moved
