The ruins no longer stank of panic.
Oh, the fear was still there—woven into the cracked stone and the blood-stained air—but it had been smothered beneath a fragile new order.
Where last night had been chaos, this morning was banners.
✦
Tattered cloths painted with hurried sigils, poles hammered into broken masonry, symbols daubed in ash and blood. Survivors clustered beneath them like frightened animals hiding beneath umbrellas. They called them "guild flags" even though half were crooked and none looked official.
But it was enough.
Envoys strode through the square now, their cloaks unburnt, their hands full of lists and parchment. They spoke loudly, voices carrying promises of safety, food, healing. Their words dripped certainty, and certainty was rarer than gold.
Every whisper, every desperate body, leaned toward them.
It was theater.
But theater worked.
✦
At the center of it all stood Kael Arathis.
Tall. Still. Steady. His sword rested point-down against the stone as if even the earth obeyed him. He didn't need to shout. Didn't need to fight for attention.
When Kael nodded, the envoys bowed deeper.When he gestured, survivors shuffled into lines.When he said nothing, silence spread on its own.
The Hero didn't chase loyalty.People threw it at his feet.
✦
Me?
I sat on a half-collapsed wall, ignored by most except for the sideways stares that dug into my skin.
The bug.The cursed one.The shadow with a leash he couldn't hold.
Every glance was the same: sharp, suspicious, waiting for my ink to slither loose and rip another wall apart.
Dev stayed with me—because he was too stubborn to leave—but even he kept shifting, his eyes flicking nervously toward the black stain at my feet.
I couldn't blame him. I didn't trust it either.
✦
The Rewrite window shimmered faintly, hovering just within sight.
[Sentence: The ink lay dormant at Ishaan's feet.]
[Rewrite? (Y/N)]
I didn't press it.
Because I'd learned something last night.
The ink wasn't just mine.
It wasn't passive.It wasn't harmless.
It had a pulse.A will.A choice.
✦
I bent forward, voice a whisper meant only for the stone."Fine. Let's… talk."
At first—nothing.
Just flat shadow.
Then the ink rippled once, faint as a sigh.
A heartbeat against the ground.
The Rewrite window twitched, words bending.
[Negotiation Initiated.]
[Offer: Control.][Counter-Offer: Autonomy.]
My blood ran cold.
"You… understand me?" I whispered.
The ink pulsed once. Yes.
✦
Dev froze beside me. "Reed." His voice was tight. "You're… bargaining with your shadow?"
"Better than fighting it."
The ink spread thin across the stone, curling into letters. Not neat, not human, but enough to read.
WRITE WITH ME. NOT OVER ME.
I swallowed hard."You want… partnership?"
The ink curled again. A grin made of liquid black.
✦
The gods crashed in immediately, voices crowding my skull.
[A God of Order thundered: "Abomination! Such pacts must be severed!"]
[A God of Shadows purred: "Yes… let it whisper. Let it grow."]
[A Trickster God cackled: "Bug making deals with bugs—prime entertainment!"]
[Unknown Origin: "…You're finally learning to listen."]
Their chorus rattled my bones, and for a second I thought the plaza itself was shaking.
✦
I bent lower, whispering fast."Fine. We work together. But no killing unless I say."
The ink pulsed once. Agreement.
Then it coiled faintly around my wrist—not tight, not choking. A handshake.
Dev gagged, muttering, "That's the creepiest thing I've ever seen."
✦
And of course—Mirae.
Her voice sang across the sky, dripping with mockery.
"OOOOH, CHAT, ARE WE WITNESSING THIS? Our emo Quill has officially signed a peace treaty with his cursed shadow! Hero collects guilds, Bug collects… living ink. Peak television."
The chat window exploded.
"Hero gets kingdoms, Bug gets a sentient tattoo.""Bro speedran Stockholm syndrome.""CALLING IT NOW: ink's gonna betray him.""Stop manifesting betrayal, I like Shadow-kun."
I dragged a hand down my face."Why do I always trend for the wrong reasons?"
The system didn't hesitate.
[The gods laugh at your suffering.]
✦
Across the plaza, the cheering swelled. A guild envoy in emerald-and-gold stepped forward, voice raised.
"From this moment, the Guild Alliance recognizes Kael Arathis as Earth's field commander!"
Applause thundered. Relief poured from every throat.
People clapped, wept, even knelt. For the first time since the towers fell, they had a leader.
Kael didn't raise his hands, didn't bask. He only inclined his head, his expression carved from stone.
But his gaze flicked across the plaza, to me.
And it lingered.
Sharp. Cold. Measuring.
✦
Hero of the First Hour. Commander of Earth.
And me?
The Bug.
The cursed one who had just shaken hands with his own shadow.
✦
The survivors didn't cheer for me. They whispered.
"Did you see? He talks to it.""He's cursed.""He's dangerous.""Keep your kids away from him."
Their fear rolled over me in waves, sharp as knives.
Dev planted himself closer to my side, chin jutting defiantly at the whisperers. But I could feel him trembling.
✦
The ink pulsed against my wrist, smug.
It didn't need to speak; I felt it.
They will never cheer for you. But they will fear you.
I forced my jaw tight."I don't need their fear."
The ink pulsed again.Liar.
✦
The gods weren't silent either.
[A Goddess of Mercy whispered: "Poor child. He doesn't command it—it commands him."]
[A God of War bellowed: "Weaponize it, Quill! March them in blood!"]
[A God of Order hissed: "Unstable. Delete him now."]
The Unknown Origin hummed, soft and distant."Every crown casts a shadow. And sometimes the shadow writes back."
✦
Across the plaza, Kael raised his hand. The envoys stilled. Survivors fell silent.
"Earth has chosen me as commander," Kael said, his voice even. "But leadership is nothing without order. Each guild here will provide supplies and soldiers. Every survivor will have a place. We stand together."
The cheers rose again, loud and desperate. People clung to his words like rope.
And his eyes flicked toward me, just once more.
Not angry. Not afraid.
Calculating.
✦
Let him have the crown.
I'd keep the pen.
✦
The system whispered, quiet but undeniable.
[Title Updated: Ink Pact Scribe.]
[Observation: The Hero rises. The Bug writes.]
Somewhere beyond, the gods leaned forward in their seats.
The story had just split in two.
✦
But while the plaza roared for its Hero, I sat with ink curling against my skin, feeling a different kind of crown tighten around my throat.
One Kael couldn't see.One I wasn't sure I could take off.
And as the survivors cheered, the ink whispered faint words only I could hear:
WRITE WITH ME. OR BE ERASED.