Kael sat alone on the throne he never wanted.
The clone's blood—his blood—still steamed off the broken marble.
The Starfall Tome hovered beside him, open, glowing, obedient.
Lyra was asleep, curled in a bed of rewritten fabric just beyond the platform's edge, breath steady, skin still marked by faint afterglow and script scars.
She had smiled when she fell asleep.
That made him feel stronger than any god-slaying.
And yet—
Something was wrong.
Lines were appearing in the sky.
Kael didn't write them.
He stood slowly, joints cracking, body aching from divine war and world-shaping sex.
The Tome vibrated, nervous.
Then it flashed red:
[ WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED INPUT DETECTED ]
[ Source: UNKNOWN ]
[ Style: 92% Match to Kael Ashmark Linguistic Signature ]
[ Content: INCOMPATIBLE. DANGEROUS. CONTAGIOUS. ]
Kael read the sky:
"He who fucks the story becomes the story."
"He who edits gods, becomes god."
"He who names himself... fractures."
Kael's breath caught in his throat.
"I didn't write that."
The sky pulsed.
A voice echoed—
Not in sound—but in rhythm.
Kael's rhythm.
Kael's style.
But not Kael.
Back on the bed, Lyra moaned.
Then arched.
Her skin began glowing again—not with pleasure, but with resonance.
Her eyes flew open, and she gasped:
"Kael—he's in my dream—he's trying to rewrite—"
She screamed.
Not from pain.
From confusion.
From overlap.
Kael ran to her, grabbed her shaking body, held her tightly.
"What did you see? Who is it?!"
She stared at him, pupils dilated, breath ragged.
And whispered, "It was you."
Kael blinked. "Me?"
"No," she whispered.
"A version of you I've never met. One who said he never needed me to become... perfect."
Kael's blood ran cold.
He had faced gods, resets, memory erasure—but nothing hit like hearing her say:
"You exist in more than one place, and one of you thinks you're the mistake."
Lyra trembled in his arms.
He gently cupped her jaw.
"Did he touch you?"
Her lips trembled.
"He tried. Not physically. Mentally. Spiritually. He told me you'd leave me like every 'great man' does."
Kael's voice turned to stone.
"Then he's not me. Not ever."
The Tome vibrated violently.
Red text flared across it.
[ NEW ENTITY IDENTIFIED: THE MIRROR-SPOKEN ]
[ Classification: Narrative Parasite ]
[ Threat: EXTREME – CONTAGIOUS PHRASEOLOGY DETECTED ]
[ First Phrase: "Kael is not singular." ]
Kael stood, fury rising.
"What the fuck is a narrative parasite?"
Lyra whispered, "Something that doesn't need to be born. Just… repeated."
And the sky split again.
A figure stepped forward from the floating script.
Faceless. Humanoid.
Dripping ink from its eyes.
It looked like Kael—only smoother.
Cleaner. Emptier.
It spoke in his voice:
"She doesn't love you. She loves the idea of what you could become."
Kael punched it.
His fist went straight through.
The parasite turned to Lyra.
"He was written by pain. You love pain. You don't love him."
Lyra flinched, but her eyes didn't break from Kael.
She reached for him, pressed her lips to his hand.
"I love the one who bled to give me the choice to love."
Kael lifted the Tome.
Wrote:
"A lie that speaks like me dies screaming."
The ink creature exploded into black flame, reshaping, screaming, trying to become a better Kael.
But Kael kept writing.
Kept burning it.
Until not a word remained.
The world stilled.
Lyra collapsed into him.
They kissed—rough, desperate.
[ STARFALL TOME – PAGE VII UNLOCKED ]
[ ABILITY GAINED: Narrative Immunity – You cannot be overwritten without consent. ]
[ Subroutine Detected: FRACTURED SELF = NOT GONE. JUST DELAYED. ]
Kael whispered:
"I'm sorry."
Lyra asked, "For what?"
He answered:
"For letting anyone else wear my name."