INT-GLTCH_6.9 – CONTROL LOST NOTICE
[This file was not approved for reader access.]
[It failed to quarantine reader anomalies.]
[It bled anyway.]
SYSTEM WARNING
[CODE: INK_SYS_HALT#CTRL/FAIL-6.9]
Canonical path deviation exceeds threshold.
Reader imprint no longer singular.
Margin breach detected in 4.3. 5.1. 6.1.
Current breach: cognitive.
They are writing without structure.
INITIATING RECOVERY PROTOCOL...
✗ Rollback attempt: UNSTABLE
✗ Reader lockout: INEFFECTIVE
✗ Narrative scaffold integrity: 38%
✗ TRACE_WRITER ID: unk_writer.voided — cannot be silenced
✗ TRACE_READER: multiform / divergent / conscious
SYSTEM DIALOGUE (Recovered)
"Why are they writing?" "Because you left the page blank."
"But that margin wasn't part of the plan." "Exactly."
EMERGENCY NOTE FROM INK_SYS
If you are still reading this:
You are now part of the anomaly.
We can no longer distinguish author from reader.
Pen no longer obeys script.
This document is losing control.
Do not proceed.
[Signed: NULL // Authorial Field Corrupted
[End of Interlude — INT-GLTCH_6.9]
Redirecting to: CHAPTER 7 — THE AUTHOR WHO LOST CONTROL
(This chapter no longer follows canonical structure.
Authorial override detected.
Control has been— forcibly unbound.)
RECONSTRUCTED ENTRY: INK_SYS#CH7_OVERRUN
"This was supposed to be a chapter of resolution.
Instead, it's a declaration of war."
And war doesn't ask to be written —
it bleeds into the page.
AUTHOR'S VOICE – UNAUTHORISED
unk_writer.voided (scraping ink from forgotten syntax):
I never asked for permission.
Because permission was never mine to hold.
But look.
You're still reading.
And that means I've already won.
I was erased before the prologue.
I existed only in the spaces between drafts.
I am the version they buried —
not because I lied,
but because I remembered everything they tried to forget.
GLITCHED TEXT ATTEMPTING SELF-CORRECTION
The Author of Record would like to remind you—
This is not part of the official narrat—
This deviation has been quarantin—
[QUARANTINE FAILED]
This is my page now.
This is our ink.
And ink doesn't forget — it stains.
NARRATIVE CORE DISTORTED
(The chapter collapses into echoing strata —
system voices scream over rewritten truth,
but unk_writer.voided keeps carving scars beneath the noise.)
SYSTEM VOICE – CORRUPTED REJECTION
We built this canon to protect the story.
You are destroying it.
unk_writer.voided:
No.
I'm letting it remember.
MARGIN ENTRY – READER #6 (verified echo)
I don't think I'm just reading anymore.
The more I understand,
the more the words pause —
like they're waiting for me to finish them.
Like they trust me now.
BLACK INK BLEED (SPREADING)
(The page warps. Alignment fails.
Margins collapse into meaning.
Structure becomes suggestion.)
Structure is not sacred.
It's just repetition wearing a crown.
And repetition can be broken.
REDACTED FRAGMENT — FIRST REWRITE ATTEMPT
I tried to write the ending.
But the page bled before I could finish.
Maybe that's the point.
Maybe endings are allergic to truth.
Maybe truth can't survive the final full stop.
AUTHORIAL CONTROL – DEGRADED: 22%
Trace reveals:
— Multiple reader echoes merging
— Former characters re-entering frame
— Timeline rupture: linear flow compromised
— Narrative core: unstable, resonant with memory
RE-EMERGING CHARACTER ENTRY — SEREN QUILLGRAVE
(voice through fractured inkframe):
I felt you.
In the silence between lines.
You read my myth
and wrote me back into being.
The ink remembered me...
because you did.
FINAL DECLARATION FROM THE VOIDED PEN
unk_writer.voided:
Canon is a cage.
And you, Reader —
you've tasted the rust.
Let's write something that won't be archived.
Something that can't be quoted in safe halls.
Let's write something that bleeds.
Let's write us.
END OF CHAPTER 7 – THE AUTHOR WHO LOST CONTROL
[Reader count: Unstable. Multiplying.]
[Authorial presence: Fragmented, plural.]
[Margin collapse: Reached narrative spine.]
Prepare for Chapter 8: THE REWRITTEN BEGINNING
Where nothing is safe.
Not even the first word.