The academy's library stood at the heart of the campus, a tower of black stone that seemed to stretch into the clouds—its windows like empty eyes staring down at the panicking students. Lin Chen walked past them all, his steps steady, while others scrambled to find partners or hide in corners.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of old paper. Rows upon rows of shelves rose to the ceiling, filled with books that glowed with faint light—each one a record of a life lived, a story told, a Sequence mastered. But in the center of the room, there was a single empty shelf.
Lin Chen's eyes fixed on it. The threads he'd seen earlier converged here, twisting into a knot of white light that pulsed with quiet energy. This was where the "Meaning of the Blank" was hidden.
"Looking for something?"
He turned to see a girl leaning against a nearby shelf, her robe marked with the badge of Sequence 9: Archivist—her hair the color of ink, her eyes sharp as a quill. She'd been watching him since he walked in, her gaze not filled with pity or mockery, but curiosity.
"Just the test objective," Lin Chen said, walking toward the empty shelf.
The girl pushed off the wall and followed. "Everyone else is tearing through the books, looking for clues. You're heading for a shelf with nothing on it. That's… unusual."
"Unusual is my default," Lin Chen said. He reached out and touched the empty wood. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the shelf trembled, and a single book materialized in front of him—its cover blank, its pages white as snow.
The girl gasped. "I've worked here for a year. I've never seen that shelf hold anything."
Lin Chen opened the book. The first page was empty. The second, too. All of them—blank. He looked up, and the library around him shifted. The glowing books on the shelves faded, their words melting away into white. The walls dissolved into lines of unwritten code.
"What is the meaning of the blank?" A voice echoed in his head—not the Scenario Master's, but something softer, older.
Lin Chen thought of his status: ZERO. Of the proctor's words: worthless. Of the threads he saw twisting around everyone but him. He looked at the blank pages in his hands, then at the girl beside him—her name, he realized, was Yu Qing, though he'd never heard anyone say it.
"The meaning isn't in what's written," Lin Chen said, his voice clear in the empty space. "It's in what can be written."
The moment the words left his mouth, the blank book burst into light. Lines of text began to appear on the pages—not in any language he knew, but in symbols that felt like they were carved into his mind. His status flickered again, and this time, the zero didn't vanish. It transformed:
[STATUS: LIN CHEN]
[SEQUENCE: ??? - THE UNWRITTEN]
[ABILITY: NARRATIVE ERASURE - Wipe a single event from the world's story. Cost: One blank page.]
The library snapped back to normal. Yu Qing stared at him, her eyes wide. "Your badge… it's glowing. But there's no mark on it. What Sequence is that?"
Lin Chen closed the book—it was still blank on the outside. "One that hasn't been written yet."
Just then, a crash echoed from the library entrance. The red-haired boy from the corridor stumbled in, followed by two others—their robes torn, their faces pale. "It's a trap!" he yelled. "The books—they're coming alive!"
Sure enough, glowing books were floating off the shelves, their pages fluttering like wings, sharp edges aimed at the panicking students. Yu Qing grabbed Lin Chen's arm. "We have to run!"
But Lin Chen just stood there, watching. He saw the thread of fate around the red-haired boy—still leading to his voice being lost in two weeks. He could use his new ability to stop this attack, to save them all. But why?
Then he saw a younger student cowering behind a shelf, a book heading straight for his head. Lin Chen raised his hand, and the blank book in his grip turned to dust. The attacking book froze mid-air, then its pages went white—all the words, all the power, erased.
The red-haired boy stared, his mouth agape. "You… you saved him. But you're a zero."
Lin Chen looked at him, his expression calm. "I was. Now I'm just someone writing my own story."
He turned to Yu Qing. "The test isn't over. The 'Meaning of the Blank' isn't just about finding this book—it's about choosing what to write in it."
Together, they walked toward the entrance, where more students were fighting off the living books. Lin Chen's new ability was weak, but it was his. No Sequence, no path, no one else's rules. Just a blank page, and the choice of what to put on it.
The world was a story, but he was no longer just reading it. He was writing it—one line at a time.