Above the white-marble plaza of the Northern Finishing Terrace, the seven Inquisitors of the Heretical Scribes raised their five-foot soul-iron quills in timed together care.
The skin-burning black ink dripping from their tips hissed against the air, leaving dark tears across the map point lattice.
[Judge PROTOCOL 0-A ENGAGED,] the central hooded figure intoned, its multi-layered voice echoing over the mountain. [TARGET ENTITY HAS ALTERED CRITICAL Storehouse INDICES.] [Starting ONTOLOGICAL CANCELLATION.]
The central Judge slashed his iron quill through the empty air.
SHRRRRRRRRK.
A slash of pitch-black void ink, fifty yards long and three feet thick, carved itself directly into the crimson sky:
DELETE FROM REALITY WHERE ENTITY_ID = ‘LU_ZHEN’;
The moment the black characters solidified, the air pressure dropped sharply. The white-marble floor tiles around Frank began to blur into gray static, as though an eraser were scrubbing his physical presence from the surface.
