Light stretched upward, endless and weightless.It wasn't sunlight—it was syntax, the structure of reality widening to make room for something older than form.
The bridge behind me dissolved, leaving only the faint hum of pages turning somewhere above.I tightened my grip on the Broken Quill. Its faint golden glow pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.
✦
[ System Notice: Transit Complete ]
[ Current Location — Unwritten Realm: The Margin Between Pages ]
[ Warning: Language Density Unstable ]
The air shimmered with letters. They drifted like dust, half-formed, dissolving before they could mean anything.
Arjun's ember floated beside me, smaller than usual. Have you ever got tired of walking into metaphors?
"I'd quit if the metaphors stopped paying in plot."
✦
The space unfolded into something resembling a horizon—a plain of pale light textured with moving ink.Far ahead, something immense stirred: a shape without shape, a motion that wrote itself into being.
