RIP—SHRIEEEEEEEK!!
As the Chief Author of Fate wrenched his hands out of his own ink-woven chest, the entire summit of Floor Nine darkened into an eerie, soundless twilight.
Gripped between the Chief Author’s trembling, ink-dripping claws was an ancient, five-thousand-foot-long writing implement carved from the fossilized spine of the primordial void: the [Rank 10 Peak Brush of Cosmic Deletion & Retroactive White-Out]!
Unlike the golden fountain pens and red grading quills used by the proofreaders on the lower floors, the bristles of this terrifying brush were woven from pure, colorless Nothingness Fibers. Its tip dripped continuously with thick, chalky-gray [Retroactive Erasure White-Out Fluid].
Everywhere the shadow of that gray brush tip passed, even the ambient light of Floor Nine didn’t just go dark—it ceased to have ever been emitted in the first place.
“You think your Early Rank 10 Creator shields can block everything, Gu Changsheng?!” the Chief Author panted, his voice raspy and unhinged. Meanwhile, half of his own ten-thousand-foot body shrank and withered just to feed the terrible hunger of the Deletion Brush.
“Do you know what happens when an author decides a sight shouldn’t exist?! He doesn’t fight the character inside the sight—he paints white-out fluid straight over the page!!”
