The moment Erik sat upon the Throne of Unwritten Truth, the universe flinched.
Every law—the weight of gravity, the ticking of time, the veil between life and death—trembled, like strings plucked by a new hand.
The throne was not made of metal or stone. It pulsed like a living thing beneath him, reacting to his presence. Words flowed through it—half-formed prophecies, discarded truths, thoughts too dangerous to be spoken aloud.
He heard them all.
"He is not chosen by fate. He is the one who rewrites it.""Beware the throne, for it listens more than it rules.""The Lockbreaker is not a savior. He is a storm given form."
Erik sat motionless, but his soul boiled beneath the surface. The fifth glyph on his chest pulsed in rhythm with the throne, burning brighter with each second.
The Seer knelt beside the platform, not in worship—but in mourning.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered.
Erik looked down at her, voice calm but thunderous. "Then why did you call me here?"
"Because something worse is coming," she said. "Something the Architects sealed away even before the gods were born. You were meant to stop it."
"And now?"
"You've become strong enough to open the cage instead."
Erik stood.
The throne let him go reluctantly, like it didn't want to lose its first worthy occupant in eons.
"Tell me what's coming," he said.
She raised her gaze. Her eyes weren't gold anymore. They had turned black, speckled with stars.
"The Nameless."
Erik frowned. "What?"
"They were the first. Before the gods. Before time. Even before thought. The Architects did not create them—they feared them. And when they could not destroy them, they buried them in a place beyond reality."
"The Vault?"
"No," she said. "Even deeper. Beneath the Vault lies the Root."
Erik felt the weight in the air shift.
Suddenly, he was no longer alone in his skin.
The soul inside him stirred—no longer a quiet presence, but a roaring, shaking force trying to rise to the surface.
"Don't listen to her," it growled. "The Root is forbidden for a reason. I helped bury it. I helped seal it. If you go there, we both die."
Erik clenched his fists.
"Then why is the Vault leading me toward it?"
"Because," the Seer said slowly, "you carry the Original Glyph. And that glyph doesn't obey rules."
From the ruins behind them, thunder cracked.
Erik turned.
A rift had opened.
A wound in the world, black and red, wide and deep.
Something inside it breathed.
And the world around them began to decay.
Not burn.
Not freeze.
Decay.
Stone crumbled to ash. Sky peeled away in strips. Statues twisted into nothing.
The Seer stood beside him now, hand on his shoulder.
"If you don't seal that rift," she said, "everything ends."
He looked at her. "Then why are you hesitating?"
She met his gaze.
"Because sealing it means giving up the power you've just claimed."
The throne. The glyphs. The truth.
He'd lose all of it.
"Can't I fight it?" Erik asked.
She shook her head. "You don't fight the Nameless. You only delay them."
The soul inside him whispered again—quieter now, almost afraid.
"You could rewrite the laws. Use the throne to trap them again. But it would take everything. Even… me."
Erik's breath caught.
"You'd be erased?"
"Yes," it said. "And you'd forget everything we've done together."
He stood at the edge of the rift.
Power swirled in his blood. The fifth glyph roared like a star on the brink of collapse.
And in his hand, a shape formed.
A key.
Not one of metal or code.
But of intent.
It shimmered with every glyph he had awakened—past and future, written and unwritten.
The Seer whispered, "Whatever you choose now… becomes law."
He took one step forward.
The Nameless stirred deeper in the rift.
And Erik saw them.
Not monsters. Not gods.
Not even minds.
Just emptiness with purpose.A hunger for identity. A desire to be something.
"They were never evil," Erik said softly.
The Seer nodded. "Only unfinished."
He raised the key.
"I don't want to destroy them."
The Seer gasped. "Erik—"
"I want to complete them."
The rift screamed.
The glyphs on his chest flared.
The key shone so brightly it split the sky.
And then—
He unlocked the Root.
Light exploded outward.
The world vanished.
—
When Erik opened his eyes again, he stood in a field of flowers.
Golden. Endless.
No throne. No ruins. No Seer.
Just warmth.
Just quiet.
And a voice beside him.
"Welcome back."
He turned.
A girl stood there.
Young. Eyes stitched shut.
Saline.
But different.
Her eyes slowly opened.
Not sewn. Not blind.
Just... waiting.
"You completed them," she said.
"I did."
"You gave the Nameless a name."
He nodded.
"And paid the price."
"What did I lose?" he asked.
Saline stepped closer.
"Everything."
He looked at his hands.
No glyphs.
No blade.
No soul whispering inside.
He was human.
Truly.
Erik sank to his knees in the golden field.
And smiled.
"Good," he whispered.
Above, the sky shimmered.
Not broken.
Not cracked.
Whole.
And for the first time in a thousand years—
The world was silent without fear.