Chapter 1 Fragmented Execution
In the silence of a black void stitched with stars, two figures clashed. Not flesh and blood, but data and command.
Access Denied, commonly known as Nyxus—Nyx for short—stood sovereign: a silhouette in an obsidian-black hoodie traced with neon purple outlines. A glowing "8" reverberated across his suit, his bizarre white hair glinting like refracted code.
Opposite of him, on the fractured curvature of a dying planet, stood Content Deleted—a being known as Zerith. His name, like "zero," was empty, and unforgiving.
His porcelain skin contrasted with the obscure, vein-like patterns of corruption crawling across his body. Neon red wireframes jaggedly consumed thirty percent of him. Crimson horns emitted a low, unstable glitch frequency. His eyes, solid neon red, never blinked.
here, in the void, they clashed—a ballet of light and dark code.
Nyxus dodged and deflected with elegant subroutines, weaving between Zerith's attacks like forbidden commands. For a moment, he gained the upper hand—rewriting the rules of engagement as he moved.
But then Zerith activated his final form: Limitless Code.
Ones and zeroes collided in radiant shockwaves, rippling through the cosmos. Zerith raised a hand; from his palm spilled streams of binary—glowing red digits 0s and 1s that floated like cursed ash. Where they landed, space didn't exist.
This was no illusion.
The deletion was not a parlay of visual effects but they were rather functional. Anything touched was completely removed from existence.
Each digit he hurled was not mere data and bits, but it was TrueAbsolute Deletion, a function so terminal it would not only remove a target from memory, but from the plot itself.
Erased characters would be forgotten not by others but by reality.
The red digits fragmented into infinitesimal shards scintilla, recursive bits that slipped between the normal definitions of space. The gaps between gluons, the spaces between thoughts, they were being deleted.
A dimension in the distance cracked into wireframe, then into nothing.
The void between them began to compress, then vanish. Access Denied twisted midair, eyes scanning he had understood what was happening, but couldn't calculate the solution fast enough. A single shard so small it practically didn't exist brushed his side. And it began.
His outline began to fade. Not dissolve—vanish. Data, history, context…all began peeling away.
Not erasure of memory, not death. Non-recognition. He staggered, hand to his chest, as the story itself began losing him.
Then a flicker not light not sound rather something else. A golden cursor dragged itself into frame, cutting through the rendered sky like a command issued from something above and beyond the system. What was it?
System Override: PAUSE_PLOT (True)
Everything around him kept moving particles, motion, even the echo of deletion but the plot itself froze. The erasure had stopped mid-frame.Time didn't halt, the story did. And in that stillness, a portal opened, not of glowing code or any registered function, but something Older, Meta.
Its edge shimmered in undefined logic. It was opened. Access Denied, weakened and unstable, was pulled through. What remained was silence.
The plot resumed, the last frame held, unresolved. Content Deleted was held at abeyance yet something told Access denied this wouldn't be the last encounter.