Damien's body was a furnace barely holding itself together. Every breath seared his lungs; every heartbeat was a war between fire and ink. The wound in his shoulder burned, not from pain alone but from the scripture carved into his flesh. Each letter writhed like a living brand, bending his flames toward Yurin.
Yet still, he fought.
"Clara!" His voice tore through the shadows, hoarse and raw. "If you can hear me, fight it! You're not his Codex—you're you!"
The Codex hesitated. Quills shook mid-strike, parchment wings trembling as though some invisible war raged beneath her monstrous form. Her faceless mouth opened, and a faint cry escaped, buried under a hundred voices.
"…Damien…"
For an instant, hope lit his eyes. He roared, flames swelling into the form of a great lion, its mane burning gold, charging straight toward her.
But before it could strike, the scripture binding him tightened. The word engraved on his chest flared: SERVANT. His lion faltered, flames twisting against his command, bowing to the Codex instead of devouring it.
His knees hit the ground. His fire betrayed him.
"Damn you!" He slammed his fists into the void floor, sparks flying, eyes wild with fury and despair. "You think I'll let you chain me like this?"
Above him, the Codex raised her arms again, letters spiraling like blades of execution. The voices screamed in unison: "Burn him."
Damien's vision blurred. His fire turned against him, slashing across his own skin, licking his body like a torturer's lash. Yet even through the torment, he bared his teeth in a grin that bordered on madness.
"If I can't save you… then I'll burn both of us. I'd rather turn this whole world into ash than let him keep you."
The flames surged again, brighter, wilder, feeding not on his strength but on his fury. The scripture binding him cracked, letters splitting into cinders. For the first time, the chains faltered.
Evelyn's serpentine laughter echoed from the shadows, delighted and shrill. "Ah, magnificent! Rage rewriting scripture, fire devouring ink! Truly, this is worship in its purest form!"
Damien didn't even glance at her. He staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth, flames clawing against the Codex's storm. "Clara, if there's even a piece of you left, hear me. You're not words. You're not a page. You're mine."
The Codex froze mid-motion. Pages tore free from her body, fluttering like broken feathers. From behind the parchment mask, two eyes blinked through—wet, ink-black tears sliding down her cheeks.
"Damien… I…"
Her voice faltered, swallowed by chains snapping tight around her again. She convulsed, quills embedding deeper into her flesh, and screamed—not in command this time, but in agony.
Yurin watched silently, crimson aura glowing faintly, expression unreadable. His calm voice cut through the chaos.
"Do you truly believe words can be undone by fire, Damien? Do you think love outweighs authorship?"
Damien snarled, his fire roaring back to life, shaking the shadows themselves. "Shut your mouth, Crimson. I don't care what you've written. She's not your story. She's ours."
Yurin's gaze lingered on the flames, the cracks in the chains, the trembling form of Clara caught between Codex and woman. His lips curved in a faint, almost amused smile.
"…Interesting."
The void shuddered. The fracture above widened, ink spilling like black rain, extinguishing sparks as they fell. A deeper voice rumbled from beyond the sky, the same whisper Yurin had heard before, now louder, more insistent.
Architect. Do not edit what is not yours.
The words echoed like a divine decree, shaking even Evelyn into momentary silence.
Damien clutched his wound, flames guttering around him. Clara's eyes blinked once more through the Codex's mask before fading back into parchment, swallowed by ink.
And above them all, Yurin stood perfectly still, his smile gone, his eyes reflecting something colder than fire, deeper than scripture.
"…So the Author finally speaks."