Rin touched his face like she couldn't believe he was real.
Like touching him would wake her up from a dream that had lasted too long.
Kei didn't move. Couldn't.
Because he wasn't sure if he was real anymore.
> [WARNING: THREAD ZERO CONTAINS NO STRUCTURE.] [MEMORY. IDENTITY. TIME. ALL ARE UNSTABLE.] [PROCEED WITH AUTHORIAL CAUTION.]
The world around them pulsed, broken.
Buildings hung mid-collapse, hovering like forgotten thoughts. The sky was a shattered mirror reflecting too many versions of the same moment. People flickered—ghosts, echoes, memories caught in rewind.
And yet—
Rin was here.
Alive.
Eyes full of fire and rain.
"Do you remember?" she asked.
Kei looked at her. "All of it."
She smiled, but her lips trembled. "Good. Because I didn't come alone."
The ground cracked.
Something massive stirred beneath the streets.
And Kei realized—this new timeline wasn't empty.
It was raw.
Unshaped.
Every fear ever written… was here.
Waiting.
Watching.
Hungry.
> [ENTITY DETECTED: UNNAMED] [COMPOSITION: UNWRITTEN NIGHTMARE] [HOSTILE LEVEL: ABSOLUTE]
The sky darkened as a figure rose from the ruins.
Not a monster.
A mistake.
A walking error of story, formed from all the discarded drafts of time. It had no face, no name—just black ooze dripping from where an idea once tried to be something more.
It opened its mouth, and every voice Kei had ever heard screamed at once:
> "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE."
Rin stepped forward. "This thing... it chases every free thread. Anything that tries to escape the system."
"It's a Reclaimer," Kei whispered.
She nodded. "It eats rebellion."
Kei gritted his teeth and raised the Pen.
But it didn't glow this time.
No rules. No systems. Just ink and intent.
And fear.
The Reclaimer surged forward, swallowing light, twisting gravity.
Kei grabbed Rin's hand, heart pounding.
"I don't know if I can write here."
She squeezed his fingers. "Then speak. Shape the story with your voice. Your will."
He stepped in front of her.
Faced the formless terror.
Took a breath.
And shouted:
"I AM THE AUTHOR. THIS WORLD IS MINE TO WRITE."
The air bent.
The Pen lit up, but not like before—it bled. Ink flowed from the tip like black lightning.
And for the first time—
Kei didn't write on the Canvas.
He wrote into it.
> [NEW POWER UNLOCKED: AUTHORFIELD] [WRITE REALITY THROUGH VOICE, WILL, AND INTENT]
He pointed the Pen forward.
"Sunder," he said.
The Reclaimer split in half.
But it didn't die.
It rewrote itself, becoming tenfold worse.
A swarm of contradictions and plot holes.
Rin grinned. "Welcome to Thread Zero, Kei."
The fight had just begun.
But this time—
The story was his.