The first sign that reality was coming apart wasn't in the Inkless Realm—it was in the dreams of a sleeping child three dimensions away.
Sarah Martinez, age seven, woke up screaming in her bedroom in suburban Denver, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stuffed rabbit. But when her mother rushed in asking what was wrong, Sarah could only stammer about "the men in the crystal room who were fighting over whether she should exist."
Her mother dismissed it as a nightmare.
She was wrong.
Across the multiverse, the ripples were spreading. The Originless Council's debate wasn't contained within the Inkless Realm—it was bleeding through the barriers between realities like ink through paper, and every choice they made was retroactively rewriting the fundamental laws of existence.
