I tried to destroy the pen.
I burned it.
It didn't burn.
I threw it in water.
It wrote inside the water.
Then my hand started hurting.
A symbol appeared on my skin:
✒ "LSV"
I froze.
A voice echoed again:
"Marked writers cannot escape."
The sky outside turned darker.
And I saw something terrifying—
There were others.
People like me.
All marked.
All writing… or being written.
And they were looking for me.