The forbidden wing of Spirewatch Guild's archive was silent, the air thick with stale parchment and sealed wards. Elias and Lyra moved between towering shelves, their steps muffled on the marble floor.
"This place is older than the guild itself," Lyra whispered. "Before hunters, before dungeons. Records the guilds keep hidden."
Elias ran a hand along the spines of cracked tomes. His Codex pulsed faintly at his shoulder, as though recognizing kin.
He stopped at one shelf, fingers brushing a book wrapped in chains of faded magic. He could feel it—an unfinished page.
As he reached, the air split.
The wards shattered like glass. A cold wind tore through the room, snuffing torches in an instant. From the shadows, a figure stepped forth, its body half-formed—lines of ink and light shifting like a drawing being erased and redrawn.
Its face was blank parchment. Its hand held a quill made of bone.
Lyra gasped. "An… Editor…"
The being's voice was not heard, but written across their minds:
> [Unauthorized Reader Detected.]
Commencing Erasure.
The quill slashed the air. A streak of nothingness sliced through a shelf—books vanished as though they had never existed.
Lyra raised her staff, panic flashing in her eyes. "We have to run—"
Elias stepped forward. Calm. Unshaken. His Codex burst open, pages scattering like wings of light.
"Stay behind me."
Lyra froze. She had expected him to hesitate, to falter. Instead, his voice was steady, commanding. Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
The Editor slashed again. Elias flipped a page.
> [Manifestation: Reflective Guard]
A shield of script formed, intercepting the quill's strike. Where nothingness should have consumed, runes burned instead, rewriting the void into solid ground.
The Editor tilted its head. For the first time, it hesitated.
Elias adjusted his glasses. "You're trying to erase me like a sentence in your manuscript. But I've read ahead. And I don't belong to your story."
He raised another page.
> [Annotation: Heavy Swing + Erase → Null Breaker]
His blade formed—glowing with the power to cut not flesh, but concepts. He swung once.
The Editor's quill snapped in half. Its parchment-face split with a silent scream. Light bled from its form before it crumbled into ash, scattering like torn paper into the void.
Silence fell.
Lyra's staff lowered slowly. Her wide violet eyes fixed on Elias—calm, steady, unflinching. He had faced a divine being and protected her as though it were nothing.
Her heart skipped once, an unfamiliar rush crawling up her chest. She masked it with a smile, though her voice was softer than usual.
"Not what I expected… again."
Elias closed the Codex with a snap. "Get used to it."
She laughed, quiet but genuine. And for the first time, she wasn't just curious about his Codex. She was curious about him.