The first sign that something was wrong came when Kaeliah looked at Aren with confusion in her eyes.
"Who are you talking about?" she asked.
He blinked. "What?"
"You said Aren would check the barrier wards. I thought you meant Leiran."
"No. I meant me."
She frowned. "But… your name is—"
She stopped. Her eyes widened, and then her breath hitched.
"I... I can't remember what I just said."
[System Alert: Identity Interference Detected]
Anomalous Source: World Edict Override – Class ███
Effect: Active Nullification of Personal Anchors
Warning: The world is beginning to forget you.
Aren's hands clenched into fists.
He rushed outside and summoned his Sovereign interface, mentally pouring energy into the Codex template he'd begun days ago.
[Sovereign Codex – Incomplete]
Current Anchors Stored: 3
Required to Resist World Override: 17
Codex Security: Vulnerable
Backup Node: None
Suggestion: Forge Memorybound Contracts with trusted allies to preserve shared identity.
He called a council that same night, but not everyone showed.
Leiran arrived late, disoriented. "I had the strangest dream," he said. "There was a man—he wore shadow-ink armor and wielded memory like a blade."
"That wasn't a dream," Aren said quietly. "That was me."
"…Who are you again?"
The Hollowing Protocol had begun.
It wasn't like a spell. It wasn't loud or flashy.
It was subtle. Insidious. Constant.
Names disappeared from records.
Conversations rewritten themselves.
Even the murals began to fade.
Veema gathered a group of spirit-painters and tried desperately to preserve Aren's image in ink. But their brushes hesitated as if forgetting the details.
"I remember his eyes," one whispered.
"I don't," said another. "I only remember the echo knight."
"No," Veema snapped. "He was the echo knight—and Aren."
Her voice faltered. "I think…"
Aren went to the basement of the tower—the vault chamber once used to hold sealed brushes.
He needed a backup. A memory forge.
[System Command: Sovereign Codex Anchor Creation – Manual Mode]
Select Anchor 1: "Kaeliah's Laugh"
Select Anchor 2: "Lantern Song – Mother Vahl"
Select Anchor 3: "Trial Blade – Unbroken After the Fall"
Engraving Options Available: [Soulbrand] | [Bloodweave] | [Inkthread]
He chose all three.
Then pressed his palm to the slab.
Engraving in Progress…
Estimated Completion Time: 7 Days
Risk of Hollowing Within Period: 89%
He exited the forge chamber and immediately slammed into Kaeliah.
Her eyes were wild, her face pale.
"You need to come with me."
"What happened?" he asked.
She didn't answer with words. She just pointed.
To a mural near the entrance.
One depicting him and the Painted Ones standing together after the fall of the Echo Knight.
His part of the mural—was gone.
As if the wall had never known his shape.
That night, Kaeliah refused to sleep. She stayed beside Aren, binding a soul-thread to his wrist with inked runes of remembrance.
"I won't forget," she said.
"You already did once," he replied.
"I know. That's why I won't let it happen again."
They sat in silence for a long time.
Then she added, softly, "Tell me something no one else knows about you."
"…I was afraid of the stars," he said. "Not the night. Just the stars. I thought if I stared too long, I'd float away and never come back."
Kaeliah blinked, then gave a small, sad smile. "Then I'll hold you down if the stars try to take you."
The Spiritbound response came four days later.
Not an army. Not a curse.
A letter, branded into the sky itself.
[Imperial Thread Correction – Class Order: Reality Amendment]
Subject: Aren Vahl is a Fiction.
The Sovereign Codex is an illusion.
Painted Ones suffer collective delusion.
Memoryborne identities are unstable and unreliable.
Edict Enforcement begins at sundown.
The entire sky pulsed white.
Then the names of the Painted Ones began to vanish from official records across the realm.
"They're rewriting history," Leiran cried, his hands covered in failed sigils. "I tried to tattoo my name into the tower's memory wall—and it erased itself."
"We need more anchors," Aren said. "If we can store enough in the Codex, it'll push back. Just like I did during the Echo War."
Veema stepped forward, older eyes resolute. "Then we'll write memories into each other."
A ritual began.
A night of speaking aloud what must not be forgotten.
"I remember my daughter's lullaby," said one.
"I remember my brother's last words."
"I remember how Aren found me, when no one else would."
Each voice added another thread to the Sovereign Codex.
And Aren felt his identity reweaving.
[Sovereign Codex: Updated]
Anchors Stored: 16
Codex Tier: Stable (Temporary)
Warning: Reality Correction Signature Incoming – "Reviser-Class Entity: The Pale Witness"
"What the hell is a Reviser?" Kaeliah asked.
Veema paled. "They're literal beings of narrative law. Constructs used only once before—during the great collapse of the Ninth Spirit Archive."
"They rewrite the world by walking through it," Leiran whispered. "And they burn anything that contradicts the story."
Aren stood at the top of the tower and watched the clouds darken.
"Then we'll burn brighter," he said.
"I will not be forgotten."