CHAPTER 1
Where Ink Meets Flesh
The first thing I felt was the ache in my neck.
I peeled my face off the sketchbook, graphite smearing my cheek and Aurelia's half-finished outline staring back at me from the page.
The desk lamp was still on, humming faintly, its yellow light pooling over scattered pencils, crumpled tissues, and stacks of Ecaria pages. My cheek throbbed where the sketchbook's spiral had pressed into it.
The clock read 8:23.
"Shit."
I shoved my chair back, papers scattering like startled birds. My uniform was still crumpled over the chair where I'd tossed it last night. I yanked it on, half‑buttoned, running my fingers through my hair — now too long, uneven, falling into my eyes in an unkempt wolf‑cut.
My phone buzzed on the desk.
A text from Reya lit the cracked screen:
I'm already at campus. Where the hell are you? Not waiting again.
I grabbed my bag, stuffing in my sketchbook without checking if all the pages were inside, heart hammering. One shoe half-tied, I bolted for the door.
I almost smiled. That was Reya—impatient, sharp, already there before anyone else.
And some part of me, maybe the writer in me, wondered if that meant something. Like we were characters fated to meet. A brief crossing of timelines.
The train ride was suffocating.
I stood pressed between two office workers, their suits smelling of sweat and stale cologne. The floor vibrated under my shoes, and the ceiling lights flickered with each turn. I stared at the reflections in the train window. Everyone looked half-asleep, dulled by routine. Just moving bodies in motion.
Needing a distraction, I opened my bag to glance at the sketches I'd packed earlier.
But they were gone.
My folder, usually stuffed with half-finished panels, character sheets, notes, was filled with blank paper. Clean. Untouched.
The exact same paper I had drawn on just last night.
I flipped through frantically. Pages 8, 9, 12 — gone.
A sinking feeling bloomed in my chest. I fumbled through my bag again, faster this time. Nothing. Not a single sketch survived.
What the hell…?
I must've left them on the desk. Or they slipped out while I ran.
The train jolted, the metal screeching against the rails, and I caught a glimpse of something strange between the commuters' shoes — a scrap of paper, black lines warped like they'd been… pulled.
Before I could crouch for it, someone's foot stepped on it, smearing the lines.
When they moved, the paper was gone.
I didn't think much of it then.
I didn't know that day would be the last time things would ever feel normal.
The idea of those pages scattered somewhere out there made my skin crawl.
When I arrived at school, Reya was waiting at the gates with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. She looked at me like she was about to throw her phone at my head.
But then she saw my face—and her expression shifted.
"Aki," she said slowly, "I just checked your webcomic."
I blinked. "Yeah?"
"It's gone."
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
"I mean—gone. All of it. The chapters, the panels, even your account. There's nothing there."
My mouth went dry. "Let me see."
She handed me her phone, and I scrolled.
Blank. No user. No content. Just a 404 error.
"That doesn't make sense. Even if it was banned, I would've gotten a notification," I murmured.
"You didn't?"
"No… nothing."
I stared at the screen, numb. I could barely feel my fingers.
And as if that wasn't enough, I whispered, "My sketches are gone too."
Reya turned sharply. "What?"
"In my bag. All my rough drafts. Just… gone. Like they were never there."
We both stood frozen for a long moment.
Then I said, more to myself than her, "I'll contact the site. Maybe it's a glitch…"
Reya nodded slowly, but I could tell she didn't believe it either.
Classes felt like background noise.
The whiteboard was full of equations, but my mind was elsewhere. My pencil hovered uselessly over my notes. Reya occasionally glanced at me from her seat, brows furrowed in concern.
No one else noticed. No one else cared.
To everyone else, it was just another normal day.
When lunch arrived, Reya nudged me silently, and we headed behind the campus—to our usual spot.
It wasn't much. Just a forgotten courtyard near the old gym building. Half of it was overgrown with wild ivy, and a gnarled tree stood at the edge like a silent sentinel. The rusted bench creaked whenever we sat on it. Cracked pavement gave way to patches of moss and brittle weeds. You could hear the distant echo of PE classes from the other field, but it always felt… separate. Quieter. Like the world paused here.
Reya handed me a drink without saying anything. Some canned coffee.
"Thought you could use it," she said.
I gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
We sat there, sipping in silence. The sky was a dull gray, the wind dry and restless.
And then—my phone buzzed.
A notification.
I stared at it. Reya leaned in.
"SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. WE MADE A MISTAKE.
FILTERING BOT COMICS, COMPUTER GENERATED CONTENT.
CLICK HERE TO REGAIN ACCESS TO YOUR STORY."
"Oh," Reya said. "Maybe it really was a glitch."
"Guess so…"
She nudged me. "Click it. It might expire."
I hesitated, but then tapped the link.
Another screen opened.
"YOU WILL GAIN FULL ACCESS TO YOUR COMIC AND TAKE COMPLETE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR CREATION.
DO YOU ACCEPT?"
I frowned.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Reya leaned closer. "Weird phrasing…"
I shrugged, nervous but too tired to think.
"Whatever. Of course I accept."
I clicked.
"THANK YOU FOR ACCEPTING.
YOU ARE NOW A CREATOR.
YOU ARE NOW A GOD."
"…Huh?"
I blinked at the screen.
Reya was quiet.
"…Um. Aki?" she whispered. "I think… something just moved."
"What?"
"I'm serious. Over there. Near the tree."
I followed her gaze
A ripple of movement—no, not wind. Not light.
A shape. A distortion
I squinted.
And then—
something moved again.
Not walked.
Shifted.
Like a shadow detaching from reality.
Wrong. Crooked. Hungry.
The air turned cold.
The hairs on my arms stood up.
"…Maybe it's just a trick of the light," I muttered, trying to laugh it off. "Or maybe you're just stressed—"
"AKI!"
Reya's scream shattered the moment.
I turned—
And the world fractured.
A black, warped figure was towering behind her.
It had no face. No eyes. Just a mass of shifting shadow, leaking into the air like smoke.
Its arm—clawed, skeletal, like it had been drawn in with blood—rose.
And in a blink—
SLASH.
A spray of red.
Reya's head—
Gone.
Her body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
The can she gave me rolled across the cracked pavement, hissing open, coffee pooling at my feet.
I froze.
My brain refused to understand what I just saw.
What I just lost.
My breath caught in my throat.
No scream.
No tears.
Just silence.
The thing turned toward me.
And I understood one thing—
This wasn't a story anymore.
This was real.
Where Ink Meets The Flesh.
CHAPTER 1 END