Somewhere between the final breath of gods and the first whisper of time... a scream was erased. Not silenced. Erased. As if it had never echoed to begin with.
A page, torn before it was ever written. A flame, snuffed before the spark. A soul, shattered before it even knew it lived. And yet. He remembers.
"They said I was never born."
"They said I never died."
"They said I never mattered."
But they were wrong.
The Pantheon of the Dead, once ruling across realms like authors above parchment, had decreed his fate across thirteen timelines. Each time, he rose. Each time, he loved. Each time, he lost. And each time… he was unmade. Until the final cycle. Until "It" found him.
System Online: GENESIS RIFT CORE INITIALIZED—
Soul ID: #VOID_13_GEN_RIFT
Reconstructing last memory fragment… success. Deploying Narrative Override Protocol… complete.
And thus began a story that shouldn't exist. One that bleeds through time. That rips through genre. That devours rules. That rejects the gods, the readers, and even its own creator. A story… that knows it's a story. A soul… that wants to kill its narrator. A villain… who may have been the hero all along.
"Let them write their fates in ink and glory," he whispered,
"I'll carve mine in bone and blood."
Welcome to the Rift.
And remember:
📖 This is not a story you read.
⚠️ This is a story that reads you.