Silence.
Not the quiet before danger.
The kind of silence where nothing exists to make a sound.
Lyra opened her eyes.
No throne.No sky.No Kael.No Aelira.
No stars.No sentences.No plot.
Just her.
Suspended in an endless white void.
Her breath echoed like someone else's.
She tried to speak—her name, anything.
But her voice came back delayed, warped, like the system hadn't decided how to process her yet.
"...L—y—r—a…"
The system had put her on hold.
She sat on the floor—if it could even be called that—and touched her chest.
No rune.No wound.Not even a heartbeat.
This is what deletion feels like.Not an explosion.Just… silence pretending it was mercy.
She wasn't rewritten.She wasn't erased.
She was unlinked.
Her world had lost its place in the story tree.
She curled into herself, the weight of isolation pressing in like gravity made from regret.
