The first light of dawn crept through the window of Kaien's dorm room, its soft glow casting eerie shadows across the floor. But no matter how bright the day seemed to others, the world around Kaien felt unnaturally still, as though something were amiss. The silence was louder than any noise, a ringing in his ears that he couldn't shake.
He had made a decision the previous evening—he would search for Dorian.
Kaien stood outside the dormitory building, watching the students shuffle between classrooms as the morning bell rang. Everything appeared the same, but nothing felt right.
Dorian's absence still gnawed at him. The classmate he had barely known, who had been erased so effortlessly from existence. Had he been imagining it? Maybe he had only thought he'd edited Dorian's fate, but what if the world had simply rewritten his memory, too?
He shook his head. No. That didn't feel right either. The change had been real—he had felt the reality shift when Dorian disappeared. There had been no trace of him, not even a lingering memory.
Determined to get answers, Kaien made his way to the dormitory where Dorian's room should have been.
The hall was quiet. The doors to every dorm room were numbered, each one identifying the student it belonged to. Kaien reached the door marked with Dorian's name.
Except it wasn't there anymore.
A simple plaque marked the door as Sealed. The name Dorian had once occupied was gone—wiped clean. He touched the wood, feeling the unnatural stillness beneath his fingers, as though the door itself resisted his presence.
His heart pounded. This wasn't possible.
Kaien stepped back, his thoughts racing. Had he really erased Dorian from the narrative that much? He'd edited one simple thing—"Dorian will participate in the afternoon debate." But that should've only added a slight change to his life, not removed him entirely from existence.
The door refused to open, even as Kaien pressed against it. He checked the roster, an old parchment listing all the students in the Academy, but there was no mention of Dorian. The list was complete—except for his name.
This wasn't a glitch. It was as if Dorian had never been written into the story to begin with.
Panic began to rise in Kaien's chest. What if his own existence was just as fragile? What if the edits to reality could erase him just as easily as they had Dorian? Would he wake up tomorrow to find his name missing from the roster? His dorm room sealed shut with no explanation?
His stomach twisted at the thought. Would anyone even remember him if he disappeared?
Kaien had already suspected his control over reality was flawed—dangerous, even—but now, he was beginning to understand just how far-reaching the consequences of his edits could be.
Desperate to reverse his mistake, Kaien hurried back to his room. His hands trembled as he pulled the scroll from his desk. He had to fix this. He had to make it right.
He stared at the blank parchment, his mind racing through the possible revisions. He wrote, quickly and with conviction:
"Dorian will return to class."
But the moment the ink hit the paper, a horrible sensation washed over him. The scroll began to smolder.
The ink-blackened parchment hissed in protest, curling at the edges like a flame, and Kaien pulled back, horrified. No, not like this.
The scroll refused to obey. The flames spread, and in a moment, the scroll had burned itself completely, leaving only a pile of ash in his hands.
His fingers trembled as the reality of what he had just done settled in. He couldn't reverse his edits. Once a change had been made, it was final. Dorian's absence was permanent, and there was nothing Kaien could do to bring him back.
As Kaien sat in stunned silence, staring at the remnants of the scroll, something in the room caught his eye.
The reflection in the window, the one he had passed by countless times, was… wrong. The angle of the light was slightly off, but that wasn't what struck him.
The figure in the reflection wasn't Kaien.
It was a man, older, his features sharper. His eyes were black—ink-black—his hair longer and streaked with silver. He stared back at Kaien with an unsettling calmness.
Kaien's breath caught in his throat. Who was this person?
He blinked, and the reflection faded. The room returned to normal, the window reflecting only the calm, pale light of the morning sun. But Kaien couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted in him. Had he seen his future self? Or something worse?
The bell rang for the next class, and Kaien stood, distracted, his thoughts in disarray.
As he walked to class, trying to shake off the eerie feeling of his own reflection, something caught his attention.
A new student was standing by the door to the classroom, alone, his presence commanding. The moment Kaien stepped into the room, his eyes locked with the newcomer's.
The student was tall, his skin pale and smooth, with sharp, silver-gray eyes that seemed to pierce through Kaien. His hair was platinum, almost white, slicked back in a style so deliberate it seemed like it belonged to another time.
Kaien froze. The boy was staring at him. No, not at him—at the scroll in his hand. His eyes were locked onto it.
Kaien's grip tightened around the scroll, as if the boy could read his every thought.
The silver-eyed boy stepped forward, his voice low but clear. "That's a powerful tool you carry, Kaien Lior," he said, his tone distant and almost curious. "It's quite interesting to see someone use the pen so freely. But be careful."
The words lingered in the air as the boy walked past Kaien and entered the classroom, leaving Kaien standing frozen at the door.
Kaien's thoughts raced. How did he know my name? How did he know about the scroll?
The boy took his seat, his cold gaze still fixed on Kaien, as if the two were bound by some unseen force.
Kaien slowly stepped into the classroom, his mind reeling. The silver-eyed boy's warning echoed in his ears, and Kaien couldn't shake the feeling that this was no coincidence.
He was being watched. But by whom? And for what purpose?
The silver-eyed boy turned to face Kaien again, his eyes narrowing. His lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Remember, Kaien," he said softly. "Every story has its price."
And with that, the bell rang, signaling the start of class.
Kaien's heart raced, and he wondered just how much of his story was truly in his hands—or if it had already been written long before he ever picked up the pen.
To be continued…