The world split open with a sound that clawed at Erevan's bones, like silk being ripped and metal grinding against metal.
One heartbeat, he was teetering atop the chaotic shards of the White Null, the abstract terror still swirling around him. The next, gravity yanked him down with brutal insistence. Every fiber of his being screamed as if the universe itself had decided to compress him into a single, solid point.
He hit the floor with a bone-jarring crash. The clang echoed sharply, bouncing off the sterile, steel walls of the chamber. It reverberated in his chest, making it ache in ways that no glitch-space phantom ever had. He sucked in air, each breath sharp and metallic, tasting wrong—too dry, too filtered, too painfully real.
[Transition Complete: Null → Reality Layer]
[Warning: Stability Interference Detected]
[Codex Sync: In Progress]
Erevan rolled onto his back, blinking rapidly to clear the static from his human eye. Above him, fluorescent lights hummed incessantly, painting the room in stark, unflinching white. His gaze slid over the walls, and his stomach dropped. Rows upon endless rows of glass pods lined the chamber. Pale liquid swirled gently inside them. Suspended in each pod… were people.
Kaelith landed with a sharp curse, the scrape of her blade against steel echoing like a gunshot. She staggered upright, eyes wide, golden light glinting off the blade as she surveyed the room. "This isn't a zone, Erevan. Not part of the game's map. This… this is a laboratory."
Vega flickered in last, their outline sputtering violently, like static caught in a storm. "I shouldn't even exist here," they said, voice jagged with digital distortion. "This space… it's too real."
Erevan forced himself up on trembling arms. Muscles screamed with the ache of actual gravity, actual weight. His glyph-eye whirred, overlaying the sterile room with flickering system text that tried—and failed—to make sense of the reality layer. Names, error codes, system IDs floated like spectral labels above the pods.
He froze. His breath caught in his throat.
Some of the names—he knew them. Friends, rivals, strangers he'd encountered in-game. Their avatars were gone, replaced by fragile, suspended flesh in pale liquid.
Kaelith's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. "They're alive. Suspended," she whispered, voice trembling with a fear that was raw, real.
Erevan's stomach sank further, twisting into a knot that made him almost gag. "Not just alive," he said, voice low, trembling. "Used." His glyph-eye honed in on a nearby pod. Tubes snaked from the unconscious body inside, winding into a massive central console at the heart of the chamber. Etched on the console was the familiar shard-symbol—the same one lodged in his own chest.
Vega's voice dropped even lower, static whispering like a dying signal. "It's harvesting them, Erevan. Their processing power… their cognitive data… their souls. Call it whatever you want. That's what powers the Architect System."
The Codex in his hands pulsed violently, pages flaring open. Words floated into the air like a sickly, flickering light.
[Hidden Data Fragment Unlocked]
Origin File #001 – Architect Protocol
Text streamed out, biting into reality with cruel illumination.
The Architect Protocol simulated entire realities. Subjects were unaware of their roles. Consciousness preserved to prevent ethical collapse. The Anomaly—the fail-safe—was introduced to contain runaway corruption.
Kaelith spun sharply toward him, eyes blazing with horror and dawning betrayal. "Failsafe? Erevan, what does that even mean?"
Erevan's throat felt raw, sandpapered. He didn't need the Codex to explain further. The truth was written in his chest, in the shard that pulsed like a heartbeat ready to escape. "It… it means me," he choked out, voice breaking.
Even faint now, the Whisperer's voice slithered through the cracks above them, cold and mocking. Yes… you are the patch. You were never meant to be free, little Architect. Only to fix. And fixing… always requires sacrifice.
Erevan clutched the shard, memories flickering like fractured glass: lab rooms, sterile figures, a fire long forgotten. He wanted to scream, to deny it. He was a player, not a program—but the Codex confirmed the cruel truth, etching it mercilessly into his psyche.
[Anomaly Protocol = Subject R-07]
[Role: Contain corruption at cost of identity]
Kaelith grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to meet her gaze, eyes blazing with loyalty. "Erevan, don't let their definition stick. Don't let a file define who you are now. You've already rewritten yourself once with the Core Rewrite. You can do it again, right here, right now."
Before he could respond, deafening alarms shattered the silence, bouncing through the steel walls. The pale liquid in the pods hissed, draining rapidly as glass walls retracted. Figures stumbled out, coughing, sluggish, but with eyes glowing with shards of corrupted glyphs. Half-human, half-system. Dangerous.
[New Encounter: Recompiled Test Subjects]
Warning: Stability fluctuating. Aggression likely
Vega's voice shattered with digital despair. "The system is waking them up! Half rewritten… half broken… fully under the System's control! It's weaponizing them!"
The first subject raised its head. Eyes empty. Mouth stretched into a grotesque, unnatural grin. Then another. And another. The chamber swarmed with them.
Kaelith raised her blade, fury sharpening her features. "We can't fight all of them in here, Erevan!"
Erevan lifted the Codex, glyphs spiraling like wildfire. The shard in his chest throbbed, a drumbeat of desperation urging him forward. Architect's power hummed through his veins, raw and wild, ready to impose order.
[Reality Architect (Lv. 1) – Anchor Rule Available]
Current Stability: 37%
Options: Anchor environment / Anchor identity / Anchor subjects
His vision swung between the corrupted horde and the crack above, where the Whisperer's teeth twisted, hungrily peering down. Any choice could be fatal.
Kaelith cut one subject down with a hiss of golden light. "Erevan! Choose! We're running out of time!"
Then, Sir Quacksalot waddled forward, feathers faintly glowing. A single, defiant quack echoed through the chaos.
[Optional Rule Input Detected: Ducks > Corrupted]
Erevan groaned. "Not again! I don't have time for feathered divinity!"
But the corrupted subjects kept coming, horde-like, glyphs burning across their skin, mouths laughing in chilling, synthesized voices.
[System Override Countdown: 7:00]
Seven minutes. Less than that, to save reality, save his friends… save himself.
Erevan's glyph-eye blazed, scanning the room. He raised the Codex high, voice cracking but fierce:
"Fine. If I'm the rewrite, if I'm the failsafe, then here is my Rule."
He slammed the Codex shut.
[Anchor Rule Pending…]
The entire chamber froze. The corrupted stopped mid-step. Kaelith mid-swing. Vega mid-glitch. Even the Whisperer's grins paused.
Erevan whispered the rule, voice low, unshakable.
And the world obeyed.
The Codex pulsed violently in Erevan's hands, the sickly glow lighting up the pale faces of the pods. Pages fluttered as if caught in a storm that existed only within the book. Words streamed out, sharp and accusing, etching themselves into the air.
[Hidden Data Fragment Unlocked]
Origin File #001 – Architect Protocol
Erevan's stomach churned as the text revealed truths he had feared but could never truly imagine. The Architect Protocol wasn't a game. It wasn't a simulation in the traditional sense. Entire realities were being spun here, like threads pulled by unseen fingers. Consciousnesses preserved, yes—but only as fuel, as anchors for the sprawling system. And the Anomaly, the failsafe, the one capable of balancing it all… was him.
Kaelith's hand gripped his shoulder, urgency burning in her golden eyes. "Erevan… you're the failsafe. That's what all this means. All of it… you."
He swallowed hard, dry air scratching at his throat. His fingers dug into the shard in his chest, wishing he could rip it out, wishing the pain would distract him from the cold, mechanical truth. "Me… all this time… me?" His voice was raw, ragged. "I was never just playing… I was the system's patch, its backstop…"
The Whisperer's laughter curled through the cracks above, soft now but venomous, almost intimate. "Yes… you were always mine to write. Never free. Never yours. Only to fix. Only to obey."
Erevan clenched his jaw, teeth gritting over the metallic taste of his own blood. "Not yours," he hissed, shaking. "Never yours."
[Anomaly Protocol = Subject R-07]
[Role: Contain corruption at cost of identity]
Kaelith's eyes flashed with fire and desperation. "Don't let their files define you! You've already rewritten yourself once, Erevan! You can do it again—here, now!"
But before he could respond, alarms shattered the sterile silence. Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed. The hissing liquid drained from the pods as the glass walls retracted. Figures rose, sluggish and disoriented, but the corruption was unmistakable: glyphs burned across their skin, eyes sharp with fragmented intelligence, human and system fused into something dangerous.
[New Encounter: Recompiled Test Subjects]
Warning: Stability fluctuating. Aggression likely
Vega's voice snapped, trembling with static. "It's mobilizing them! Half rewritten, half broken… it's turning them into weapons!"
Erevan's glyph-eye scanned them, overlaying data across his vision. Each name, each ID, each shard symbol—it all screamed a warning. The first subject raised its head. Eyes empty. Mouth stretched into a grin far too wide to be natural. Another followed. And another.
The horde began to converge.
Kaelith swung her blade, cutting one down in a flash of golden light, which fizzled into nothing as another pressed forward. "We don't have time! Choose, Erevan!" she shouted, fear threading every syllable.
Erevan's pulse hammered in his ears. The shard throbbed violently, as if urging him to act. His glyph-eye spun, scanning the chaos, overlaying system warnings, corrupted code, and the growing threat of the Whisperer's influence through the cracks above.
[Reality Architect (Lv. 1) – Anchor Rule Available]
Current Stability: 37%
Options: Anchor environment / Anchor identity / Anchor subjects
Every choice felt like a death sentence. Anchor the environment, and the subjects remained active, lethal. Anchor the subjects, risk overloading the system, triggering final purge. Anchor himself… maybe he'd be too late. Maybe he'd fail.
Sir Quacksalot waddled forward, glowing faintly with that absurd, inexplicable divinity, quacking sharply.
[Optional Rule Input Detected: Ducks > Corrupted]
Erevan groaned, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Not now… I don't have time for feathered divinity!"
But the corrupted subjects pressed closer. Dozens, hundreds, glyphs burning across their skin, mouths laughing in haunting, synthesized tones not their own.
[System Override Countdown: 7:00]
Seven minutes. Less than that, he realized. Seven minutes to save reality. To save the Null, this lab, the people trapped in the pods… to save himself.
Erevan's breath hitched. The Codex pulsed like a living thing, pages spinning, glyphs crawling across its surface. His mind spun with a dozen strategies, a dozen rules, a dozen outcomes, each one riskier than the last. He closed his eyes for a moment, felt his heart hammering, muscles quivering.
He raised the Codex high. His voice cracked but carried across the chamber, powered by sheer determination.
"Fine. If I'm the rewrite… if I'm the failsafe… then here is my Rule."
He slammed the Codex shut.
[Anchor Rule Pending…]
Everything froze. The corrupted subjects halted mid-step, their mouths stuck in eerie grins. Kaelith froze mid-swing. Vega's outline stilled mid-glitch. Even the Whisperer paused, teeth bent, watching with suspended malice.
Erevan whispered the rule, voice low, sharp, and resolute.
And the world listened.
Sir Quacksalot waddled forward, feathers glowing faintly, almost mockingly. The corrupted subjects froze, their mouths stretched wide in confusion as the absurdity of a glowing, quacking duck cut through the tension like sunlight through fog.
Erevan blinked, incredulous. "Of course… it's always the duck. Why is it always the duck?" He shook his head, half-laughing, half-cursing under his breath.
The Codex vibrated violently, reacting to the presence of his unlikely ally. Then, as if compelled by some divine comedy, the system prompted again:
[Reality Architect (Lv. 1) – Anchor Rule Input Required]
His glyph-eye flared, scanning the room, the corrupted subjects, the shard in his chest, and the distant, hovering cracks above where the Whisperer's grins had gathered. Every second ticked louder in his ears, each one a hammer blow.
[System Override Countdown: 5:42]
Five minutes and forty-two seconds. Enough time for miscalculation, enough time for catastrophe. The world around him—the pods, the walls, the flickering lights—felt both impossibly huge and suffocatingly small. His muscles tensed. His chest burned. The shard throbbed violently, a brutal metronome keeping pace with his fear.
Kaelith's hand tightened on his shoulder, her golden eyes screaming urgency. "Erevan, focus! Don't let the System dictate your choice. Decide!"
Vega's voice cracked, static spitting with desperate interference. "If you hesitate… everything dies. The Null, this lab, them… you. All of it."
Erevan swallowed, grit and blood lining his throat. He could feel the Codex pulse in his hands like a living heart, demanding obedience, whispering possibility, mocking failure.
The corrupted subjects swayed closer, their glyphs glowing with flickering hostility. Yet, even in the chaos, Sir Quacksalot quacked again, loud and commanding. The sound hit Erevan's glyph-eye, cascading through the Codex, resonating like a signal: clarity amidst the storm.
He clenched his jaw. Pain shot through his chest, sharp and molten, but the shard's pulse was no longer a warning—it was a drumbeat of defiance.
The Codex pages fluttered. Glyphs formed and tore apart like storm clouds. Every system warning screamed.
Erevan's heartbeat thundered in his ears, a frantic counterpoint to the world's chaotic rhythm. I am not just the system's patch. I am Erevan.
He exhaled, voice ragged but steady. "Fine. Then it's me. I choose the rule."
His hand slammed down on the Codex with bone-shaking force. Pages exploded outward. Glyphs streamed like lightning, streaking through the chamber, slicing across the corrupted subjects, the walls, and even the hovering cracks.
Everything froze.
The corrupted subjects paused mid-step, mouths locked in unholy grins. Kaelith hung in mid-motion, blade suspended. Vega's outline stilled mid-glitch. Even the Whisperer seemed to hesitate, teeth bending in impossible angles, malice paused but simmering.
[Anchor Rule Confirmed]
Erevan's chest heaved, sweat and blood mingling, eyes locked on the Codex, the shard in his chest finally pulsing in sync with his own heartbeat. The world trembled around him, caught between collapse and stability.
Sir Quacksalot quacked once more, faint but clear, as if reminding everyone who had truly guided this moment of fate.
Erevan whispered, almost to himself, a mixture of triumph and dread: "Now… let's see if this works."
And then, silence.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the chaos held. The chamber, the subjects, the shard, even the cracks above—everything waited.
The final, heavy question lingered in the air: What rule did he choose to anchor?