The faceless things moved closer.
I froze. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my legs wouldn't listen.
"They'll erase you if they touch you," the man said, grabbing my arm. His grip was cold and shaky. "We have to go."
Erase me? That didn't even make sense. But when one of the Blankers took another step, the wall behind it faded like chalk in the rain, disappearing into nothing, I decided not to argue.
We ran.
The room shook with every step they took. The sound of our feet echoed weirdly, like the world was hollow. I clutched the Codex in my left arm — no, my arm, the book that was somehow part of me now.
We burst out into an alley. The air hit me like a slap — sharp and cold. The man dragged me left, then right, weaving through the narrow streets.
"Who are they?" I panted.
"They're Blankers," he said without looking back. "They hunt anything that's been changed."
I frowned. "Changed?"
"Reality," he said simply. "You rewrote it. That page you fixed? You didn't heal me. You swapped my death for something else."
"What else?" I asked, slowing for half a second.
He stopped too. His eyes darted away. "Doesn't matter right now. Just—"
A shadow fell over us.
One of the Blankers was already in the alley, blocking the way forward. The air around it warped, like heat over asphalt.
"Go," the man said, stepping in front of me. His voice was suddenly steady. "You have the Codex. You're the new Archivist. Run!"
"I'm not—" I started, but he shoved me hard.
I stumbled backward just as the Blanker reached him. The thing's pale hand touched his chest. He didn't scream. He didn't even fall.
He just… faded. Piece by piece.
One second he was there, the next there was only empty air.
The Blanker turned to me. Even without a face, I could feel its attention.
I ran.