Reality slammed back into motion.
Desks crashed. Glass exploded. Screams returned—too loud, too sharp, like the world was overcompensating for the pause.
Ren didn't move.
The red interface hovered calmly before his eyes.
"Error Archive" — Active
Stored Timelines: 7
Accessible Fragments: Limited
The Observer stepped forward.
Each movement caused the floor to dent, as if existence itself were softer around it.
Authority mismatch detected, the voice intoned.
Commencing forced excision.
The air thickened.
Students collapsed unconscious one by one, their bodies gently lowered to the floor—not dead, just removed from relevance.
Only three remained standing.
Ren.
The girl.
The Observer.
"This is where you usually die," the girl said quietly.
"Crushed. No resistance. Clean reset."
"Not today," Ren replied.
He reached into the Archive.
Not physically—
Mentally.
A list unfolded.
Timeline 2 — Ren learned forbidden reinforcement arts. Failed: body collapse.
Timeline 4 — Ren stole divine-grade perception. Failed: soul overwrite.
Timeline 6 — Ren survived 43 minutes against an Observer. Failed: total erasure.
Ren selected Timeline 6.
[Invoking Fragment — 'Survival Pattern: KETER-0']
Cost: Severe memory degradation
Pain ripped through his skull.
Not physical pain—
Existential.
His name almost slipped away.
But in exchange—
He understood.
"Your left side isn't real," Ren said suddenly.
The Observer halted.
"…What?"
Ren stepped forward.
"Your form is a projection. The real anchor is three layers above local causality. That's why you can't fully enter."
The Observer's surface rippled.
Invalid data.
Ren raised his hand.
"And this is where you recoil."
He slammed his palm into the air.
Nothing visible happened.
But the space beside the Observer folded inward, collapsing like paper crushed by an invisible fist.
The Observer staggered.
The girl stared.
"…You're doing it," she whispered.
"You're using failure as structure."
The Observer screamed.
Not audibly—
Systemically.
[WARNING]
Observer integrity compromised.
Requesting higher authorization.
The ceiling split open.
Not into sky—
Into code.
Golden symbols descended, vast and ancient, burning with judgment.
Ren's vision darkened.
This wasn't an Observer anymore.
This was Divine Oversight.
The girl stepped in front of him.
Her form shimmered.
"Ren," she said softly,
"If they notice me like this… I won't survive the reset."
"Then don't reset," Ren said.
She smiled sadly.
"That's not my choice."
Golden text locked onto them both.
[ENTITY RECOGNIZED]
Designation: Liminal Witness
Status: Unauthorized
Ren clenched his fists.
"So that's what you are," he said.
"A witness that learned to care."
The golden light intensified.
Time began to rewind.
Clocks screamed backward.
Blood returned to veins.
Cracks sealed.
The world tried to forget.
Ren grabbed the girl's hand.
"If the world resets—" he said.
She squeezed back.
"I'll find you," she replied.
"Even if I forget why."
The reset triggered.
Ren woke up.
6:30 a.m.
Again.
But this time—
On his wrist, faint and glowing red, was a symbol that had never existed before.
And in his heart—
A certainty.
The system had failed to fully erase something.
Not him.
Her.