The crystalized tear still pulsed in Lyle's palm as they stepped through the shimmering doorway.
The light beyond wasn't light.
It was memory made visible.
And it bent around them, wrapping their bodies in familiar warmth.
But the warmth came with a pressure.
Like walking through dreams that remembered they were once real.
---
They emerged onto a platform suspended in nothingness.
Below? Infinite pages.
Above? Ink falling from stars.
And in the center…
A writing desk.
At it sat a figure.
Shrouded in ink-cloak.
Quill moving.
Pages forming beneath their fingers as if the world was still being born.
They didn't look up.
But they spoke.
"You've come far, Greenbottle."
Lyle stopped.
He recognized the voice.
Not from the world.
But from the Codex.
"…You're the one who—"
"Yes," the figure interrupted gently. "I'm the one who began the Codex."
Juno stepped forward, hand near her blade.
"You wrote all this?"
"No," the Author said. "I wrote one thing."
He turned.
His face—old, worn, barely human now.
Eyes stained with ink.
Voice soft as torn parchment.
"I wrote a way out."
---
Lyle stepped closer.
"You… you wrote it to protect someone."
The Author nodded.
"My son. He was like you. Too gifted. Too curious. Too hunted."
"So this was a defense?"
"No."
"A trap?"
"No."
The Author smiled sadly.
"A chance. For someone to do it better."
---
The Codex flared in Lyle's hands.
It pulsed once.
Twice.
Then opened—without his will.
Pages flew.
Sped.
Until they stopped on one.
> "Inheritance: Full Root Access Pending"
Final Requirement: Understand the Origin.
> Live it.
Suddenly—
The stars collapsed.
The platform fell.
Lyle and Juno didn't scream.
Because they didn't fall down.
They fell through time.
---
They landed on white stone streets.
Ancient. Alive.
People in robes. Sigils in the air. A world before war.
Before the Academy.
And at the center?
A young boy with green eyes—
Too familiar.
Standing next to his father.
Both holding a book that was still being written.
The same Codex.
But newer.
Before it fractured.
Juno looked at Lyle.
"…Is that…?"
"His son," Lyle whispered. "The first host."
And around them?
The beginning of the end.
As the world tore itself apart over one truth:
> That magic wasn't meant to be tamed… only understood.
---
The Author's voice echoed through the memory:
"Now you see. The Codex wasn't made to give you power…"
> "It was made to ask if you'd use it better."