The Ivory Spine Mountains loomed like the teeth of a dead god—jagged, merciless, and dusted with snow that never melted.
Beneath them, buried under layers of sealed glyphstone and forgotten eulogies, was a place spoken of only in fragmented whispers:
The Vault of Erased Sovereigns.
Kaeliah stood at the edge of a cracked stone path that led downward, torchlight flickering in her hand. "I thought the Vault was a myth."
"It was meant to be," Aren said, brushing snow from a crumbling marker that bore no name—only an inverted ink symbol. "But Sovereigns who grew too powerful or strayed too far from narrative law were locked here. Their memories couldn't be destroyed… so the Spiritbound buried them."
Leiran narrowed his eyes. "And you think we'll find help down there?"
Aren's tone was grim. "No. We'll find warnings. And maybe… someone like me."
The descent was not easy.
The tunnel rejected light. Even Kaeliah's spiritbound flame dimmed the deeper they went.
Ink dripped from the ceiling in rivulets, forming moving words along the walls.
"We were kings without kingdoms, rulers of remembrance."
"They took our names. We took their truths."
"One remains unbroken."
Leiran's voice cracked. "They're still awake."
Aren didn't answer. His Sovereign Codex pulsed against his spine, responding to every whispered truth like a tuning fork echoing in an abandoned cathedral.
Hours passed.
Then the path opened into a circular chamber—a dome carved from black marble that reflected nothing. In the center floated a crystal shard surrounded by thirteen broken thrones, each draped in dusted cloaks… some still bearing bones.
Kaeliah stepped back, chilled. "These were—?"
"Sovereigns," Aren said. "Real ones. The first who tried to write themselves into permanence."
Veema's voice echoed in his memory: "You've become more than sovereign."
He approached the shard.
It pulsed the moment he touched it.
And Aren fell.
Not physically—but into memory.
He stood in a mirrored world, reflections of himself on all sides—each different.
—One wielded a quill-spear made of flame.—One wore a crown of echo sigils and no face.—One sat alone in a tower, laughing madly as the world forgot him.
[Codex Memory Dive – Forbidden Echo Detected]
Identity: "Aren Vahl – First Draft"
Role: Prototype of the Forgotten King
Status: Erased but Active
The central mirror rippled.
Then a figure stepped out.
It looked just like him—but older, worn by time and filled with something dangerous.
"Finally," the echo said. "You came."
Aren stepped forward. "Who are you?"
"You already know. I'm who you were before the Spiritbound erased you. Before the Codex. Before Kaeliah. I'm the truth they buried."
Aren's breath caught. "You're… me?"
"The version of you that survived deletion. I rewrote myself into this vault's memory. But I was never finished."
The reflection's eyes gleamed like mirrors.
"They're coming for you, Aren. The Reviser was just the trial run. Soon comes the Archivist. The true enforcer. He doesn't rewrite stories—he ends them."
Aren felt the Codex flare inside his chest.
"Then help me stop them."
"I can't. I'm unstable. A fractured draft. If I merge with you now, I'll destroy what makes you you. But… I can give you this."
He held out a memory-thread—a thick strand of golden ink, pulsing with heartbeat rhythms.
[Codex Anchor Acquired: "Echo of the First Draft – Origin Memory"]
Effect: Unlocks "Inkblade Mode" – Temporary combat form channeling erased Sovereign energies.
Duration: 3 Minutes
Side Effect: Partial Personality Drift
Aren took it.
And the echo began to fade.
"One more thing," it said.
"What?"
"She'll betray you. The girl with silver eyes. Not Kaeliah. The other one. You haven't met her yet… but you will."
He snapped back into the vault, gasping.
Kaeliah steadied him. "What happened?"
"I met myself," he said quietly. "Or… the part they tried to erase."
He opened his hand and revealed the anchor-thread.
Leiran's eyes widened. "You brought something back?"
"More than something."
[Sovereign Codex – Tier II.5 Achieved]
New Feature Unlocked: Echo Mode
New Anchor Count: 27
Note: Access to Origin Vaults Authorized. Remaining: 3.
The ground rumbled.
The thrones around them cracked.
A new voice echoed in the chamber, but it was not a Sovereign. It was cold, mechanized, ancient.
[Narrative Surveillance Triggered – Archivist-Class Entity Detected]
"You have touched memory forbidden. You have stirred truth unapproved."
"Sovereign Aren Vahl, you are hereby summoned to the Skyvault Archive for final revision."
"Resistance will result in terminal narrative excision."
Kaeliah drew her weapon. "What the hell is an Archivist?"
Leiran trembled. "The last time one appeared… five cities ceased to exist. Not died. Not destroyed. Unwritten."
Aren stared up at the cracking ceiling of the Vault.
"Then I guess it's time I visited the people who made this world's laws."
He looked at his Codex.
And for the first time, issued a challenge.
"Let them try to erase me."