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Prologue: The First Page

In the beginning—

there was no sky, no land, no name for anything that existed.

Only silence.

And then—a page.

It drifted in the void, untouched, unmoving… waiting.

No one knew where it came from.

No one knew why it appeared.

But it was not empty.

Ink bled across its surface, slow and deliberate, as if guided by an unseen hand.

Words formed.

"Let there be form."

The page trembled.

And the void answered.

Light split the darkness.

Shapes took form.

Time began to move.

Mountains rose from nothing.

Oceans carved their place into existence.

The sky stretched endlessly above a newborn world.

All of it—written.

Page after page followed, each one building upon the last.

A story unfolding without pause, without error.

Until—a mistake.

A single line, written too quickly.

A thought that should not have existed.

The ink twisted.

The page cracked.

And from that fracture… something changed.

For the first time, the writing did not obey.

The page resisted.

It rewrote itself.

---

That was the moment the world became imperfect.

That was the moment free will was born.

---

The one who wrote the pages—

the unseen author—

hesitated.

For the first time…

they did not continue.

Instead, they tore the page.

---

Fragments scattered across existence.

Some became objects.

Some became people.

Some became… power.

These fragments would later be known as—

«Ēteru Sukuriputo

The Pages that shape reality»

And the remaining, incomplete book—

sealed away—

became the forbidden truth of the world:

«Ēteru Gurimowāru

The Grimoire that writes everything»

---

But something else was lost that day.

Something small.

Something overlooked.

A fragment that did not follow the rules of the others.

It did not obey the writer.

It did not follow the story.

It did not stay still.

---

It waited.

---

A page that could write on its own.

A page that could change what was already written.

A page that should have never existed.

---

And far in the future—

in a quiet city bound by perfect order—

that page would be found.

By someone the world had already decided was…

empty.

---

"The story was never meant to be changed."

"But some pages… refuse to stay the same."

---

And thus—

the first error begins.

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