The words glowed.
I will not disappear.
The sentence bled across the empty page, the ink spreading like veins of fire. The book pulsed in his hands, and new text etched itself onto the parchment.
Entry: [Nameless]Status: UndefinedFirst Trait: [Persistence] – The body resists erasure. Minor resistance to decay and weakening effects.
His heart pounded. A status… this is my power.
But there was no time to marvel. The burning figure that had stumbled into the aisle still advanced. Its body was split like charred wood, flakes of ash spilling with every step. In its hands, the half-burned book flared violently, black flames licking the shelves.
"An Ashling," the woman whispered at his side. "A soul whose Entry has been consumed. Mindless. Hungry."
The creature raised its head. Hollow eyes fixed on him.
He staggered back. "It's—coming for me?"
"Of course," she said, her calm smile wrong for the moment. "Your Entry is blank. To a husk like that, it's… a feast."
The Ashling lunged.
He lifted the book just in time. Claws scraped across the cover, sparks bursting on impact, his arms numb from the force.
"Write!" the woman's voice sliced through the haze. "Hurry, or be erased!"
His hands shook. The quill was still there, waiting. He flung the book open and scrawled across the next line without thought:
My body moves faster than fear.
The page ignited. The words carved themselves into being.
New Trait: [Swift Step] – Movement speed heightened under threat.
Power surged into his legs. When the Ashling's claws slashed again, he moved—faster than instinct, faster than terror. The strike howled past his ear, tearing only air.
It works!
The creature roared, its fury scorching the shelves. Again it lunged. Again he moved. This time the book blazed like a shield in his grip, warding off the blow.
He didn't think—he only wrote.
I can strike back.
Light erupted from the page. Energy seared through his arms, shaping into a blade of ash-forged brilliance. With a cry torn between fear and defiance, he brought it down.
The Ashling split apart. The burning book in its hands dissolved into sparks, and the creature collapsed into drifting cinders. Silence fell.
He gasped for breath, chest heaving, staring at his trembling hands and the glowing words within the book.
He had survived.
The woman's voice floated through the stillness, soft and unreadable."Congratulations. The first page of your story has been written."
He looked at the cover. Letters shimmered into being.
[The Chronicle of the Unwritten]
And for the first time he understood: he wasn't merely fighting to survive. He was writing a destiny that had never existed before.