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Wither Sky
Tác giả: duy159753
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a place where everything just nothingless Tags: fantasy​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 1: The Moon Beneath The Earth​


The sky had stopped changing colors.Since last year—or maybe ten—it had been stuck in a smudged ash-grey hue, as if someone had pressed pause on time and walked away, leaving the world to quietly decay in stillness.People in the Silent Valley whispered to one another:

“Don’t look up anymore.

The sky isn’t up there now.”

They said it with an eerie kind of calm, like warning a child not to step into a puddle.

And they were right.

There was no need to look up—the moon now rose from beneath the earth.At midnight, silver light seeped from the soil like diluted blood, spreading like smoke, curling around feet, clinging to skin like frost.

Anyone who stepped into it lost a memory.

First, their name.

Then, the face of someone they loved.

And finally, the reason they were ever alive.Erah was the only one who still remembered that time used to flow.He lived alone in a crooked wooden shack perched atop rusted iron stilts, right in the middle of a place people called The Soft Ground.

There, the land never lay still—it swelled and dipped like the breathing chest of some unseen beast.Erah believed the earth was alive.

People said he was mad.

But maybe madness was the last thing keeping him human.Every morning, he knocked three times on a dead wall clock.

It hadn’t ticked in years,

but he believed his knocks kept time from leaving completely.Today, no echo came back.He knocked again.

Still nothing.For the first time in—how long had it been?—he didn’t know.

But for the first time, the wind blew backward.

His hair didn’t sweep behind him, it coiled around his neck like a blind serpent.Erah looked out the window.No sun.No clouds.Only a crack across the sky,

like a claw mark torn through glass,

leaking a dark light that bled in reverse.The world had begun to rip.No one could hear it tear.

Except for Erah.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 2: The Clock That Breathes​


The wind didn't stop.It circled the stilted shack like a hungry dog, pawing at the rotten walls, howling in loops.

Erah pressed his palm to the floorboards.

They were trembling-not from the wind, but from something far deeper.

Like the bones of the earth grinding against each other beneath his feet.Outside, the moonlight had changed.

It was no longer soft silver.

It pulsed-in and out, like breath.Not light.

Heartbeat.---The dead clock on the wall... ticked.Just once.Erah froze.

His fingers hovered mid-air, still raised from his last knock.Tick.Again.

It shouldn't have ticked.

The hands were rusted, the gears broken.

He had opened it years ago-he knew there was nothing inside but dust and silence.But now the minute hand moved.Not forward.It twitched backward, like a dying insect trapped in amber.Then again.

Then again.

Faster.Each tick sounded like a footstep in the mud, wet and uncertain.---Time was reversing.Not all at once.

Not everywhere.

Only in pockets.

Only in wounds.Erah stepped back.

The air near the clock shimmered, bending like heat over fire.He reached toward it-and felt resistance.The space in front of him was thick, like wading into invisible syrup.

His fingers slowed, blurred, stretched too long.

He yanked his hand back.His fingernails had grown an inch in a second.---Down below, in the Soft Ground, the soil began to crack open like dry skin.

Something shifted beneath.

Something vast.

Something watching.Erah whispered a name.

Not his.He didn't know where it came from.

He didn't know why his tongue remembered it.> "Lirael."

The word echoed.

Not across the room, but through it-vibrating in the air like a second voice, layered beneath his own.Then... silence.The clock stopped ticking.But its face... was breathing
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 3: The Thing That Falls Upward​


The ground cracked.It didn't shatter like stone.

It peeled-like flesh left too long in the sun.From the center of the Soft Ground, the soil lifted, curling upward in spirals.

Not thrown, not tossed, but pulled, as if gravity had turned its allegiance.Rocks rose into the air.Trees bent backward, their roots clawing toward the sky.And Erah... felt the pull inside his bones.Not up.

Not down.

Just... away.He ran.Not out of fear.

Out of instinct.

Like an animal sensing an earthquake a few seconds too soon.But this wasn't an earthquake.It was an unraveling.The sky above him warped.

A long, black scar split the clouds in two.

From that scar, threads of light dripped downward-not white, but dark.

As if the world was bleeding time in reverse.Erah collapsed at the edge of the Hollow Tree-a twisted, dead thing older than memory.

It groaned in the wind, though there was no wind anymore.Only silence.

And weight.He looked up.

Something was falling upward.A figure.

No wings.

No face.

No voice.But it glowed with the same dark light as the crack in the sky.It didn't fall fast.

It floated upward like a corpse in water, limbs limp, head bowed.Then-it turned its head.Erah didn't see a face.

He saw reflections.

Of himself.

But not now.

Younger.

Older.

Forgotten.Moments he hadn't lived yet.

Or had lived, but lost.The figure raised a hand.

And the world tilted.Suddenly, there was no up.

No down.

No gravity.Only drift.Erah's feet left the ground.

So did the rocks.

The trees.

The Hollow Tree cracked and rose like a skeleton climbing from its grave.Time paused.

Space twisted.And in the stillness, the figure whispered-not aloud, but directly into the fibers of Erah's being:"You are the last constant."

Then it was gone.

The pull ended.

Everything crashed back down--except Erah.He remained suspended, heart beating backward, staring at the empty sky above him.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 4:The Gravity well​


Erah floated.Not upward.

Not downward.

Just unbound.The world below him was a broken mosaic—shattered patches of land drifting apart like islands of memory.

Each piece spun slowly in midair, connected by thin threads of light.

The sky had become an ocean with no surface, only endless ripples of black and silver.And at the center of it all:

A hole.

A perfect sphere of nothing.

Not darkness.

Not emptiness.Absence.It pulled on everything—not just matter, but sound, color, meaning.

Even gravity obeyed it.

Even language lost shape near it.Erah could not name it.

But his bones did.

They ached with recognition.The Gravity Well.

He reached out—slowly, weightlessly.Around him, pieces of the world floated:

– A shattered doorframe

– A child’s shoe

– A cracked hourglass still bleeding sand upwardEach object pulsed with faint memory.

He brushed his fingers across the hourglass, and a vision struck him like lightning:A woman in a red cloak, standing at a frozen waterfall, whispering:

“Don’t let it choose you.”

Then silence again.The Gravity Well pulsed.

Its rhythm matched his heartbeat.

No… it led it.

Each thump was a command.

Each silence, a permission.Erah felt a pressure inside his chest—not pain, not fear, but something older.

Something inherited.“I was born for this,” he whispered.

The moment he said it, the Well heard him.It turned.Not physically—conceptually.

Like an idea shifting direction.And suddenly, everything that was Erah began to fall inward.Not his body.

His
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 5: A Piece That Doesn't Belong​


Inside the hollow where gravity had once reversed itself, Erah stood—not being pulled, not falling, but anchored, as though he had become the eye of a storm that defied all known laws.The world around him was still broken, still wrong.

But now, it orbited him.I am no longer what is affected,

I am what distorts.

And yet… he didn’t understand why.His mind flashed back to the hourglass.

When he touched it, memories had poured out of him—too easily, as if they were never tightly held in the first place.

He had not gotten them back.

They were still missing.But something inside him was awakening.A low sound echoed—not loud, not violent, but deep.

It didn’t pass through the air.

It passed through bone.A hum.

A vibration that felt like recognition.Then… words.Not spoken.

Not written.

Felt.“You were not shaped by time, space, or gravity.”

“You were the splinter they could not absorb.”

Erah turned slowly.A silhouette stood before him—tall, imperfect, flickering between forms like a faulty memory.

Sometimes it looked human.

Sometimes it looked… unfinished.

Its presence bent the broken land around it like metal around a magnet.Its face held no features.

But he knew it.“You are the error,” it said.

“The variable that survived the collapse.”

Erah said nothing.He could feel his thoughts bending—like the world was trying to rewrite itself around him.

His name felt distant again, and the center of his chest burned—not with fire, but with remembrance.Then the figure raised its hand, and from the air, seven thin lines of light stretched outward—threads that connected everything floating in this shattered dimension.Erah recognized them.

He didn’t know how, but he knew what they were.The threads of the Seven Constants.

The figure whispered again:“They have begun to decay.

You are their echo.

And when the echo remembers its voice…”

The threads trembled.“…the world will unravel from the inside out.”

Erah clenched his fists.He didn’t know what he was.

But he wasn't just broken.He was a splinter, yes.

But even splinters can pierce the skin of gods.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 6: The Last Rememberer​


After the glowing threads vanished into the ether, silence fell-not just quiet, but a silence that erased even the memory of sound.

There was no gravity here.

No up.

No down.Yet something inside Erah still thundered-not his heart, but something deeper.

A memory trying to rebuild itself.A thought, or maybe an echo, rippled through his mind:"If you still remember, then they are not dead."

"And if they still exist... time still has somewhere to begin again."

He turned-not with his body, but with something beneath thought.Before him, a chamber unfolded-not because he walked, but because his presence drew it into being.

The room was made of faded gold light, its four walls pulsing gently like they were breathing.Above, seven interlocked rings hovered like broken clockwork, unmoving.

Each bore a different mark: an eye, a shattered hourglass, a feather, a cube, a decaying strand of DNA, a collapsed star, and...A name.

Carved in red.

Erah.Why is my name here?

How can something be written... before I ever was?

Then-a knock.

There was no door, but the sound struck like thunder.And a voice followed.

Old.

Cold.

But not unkind.

It carried patience-the kind that waits a lifetime:"I am the Last Rememberer.

And you... are what I forgot."

From the shadows stepped a figure in a fractured brown cloak, face hidden beneath a hood.

His skin looked like aged parchment, flaking with every breath.

But his eyes-those burned with clarity."

You think you're the first?" he asked.

"No.

You're merely the latest version-

and the only one that couldn't be erased."

Erah took a step back.Something about the man's words twisted the room itself.

Above them, the rings creaked.

Something inside them stirred."

I remember them all," the man whispered.

"Thousands of versions.

Born.

Deleted.

Forgotten."

"Only you survived-not by strength, but by disobedience."

Something in Erah's chest clenched.Memories-broken, scattered-started drifting back.

A boy drifting between worlds.

A soul that couldn't be pinned.

A name that kept being reset every time it reached too close to the truth."

You are the surviving anomaly," the man said.

"And the key to either collapse or rebuild all Seven Constants."

Erah didn't answer.

He looked up at the red name carved into the gold.His name.

Still wet.

Still bleeding.Beneath it, new words shimmered into existence:"If memory survives, nothing is truly permanent."
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 7: The Wheel That Forgets​


The chamber began to rotate.Not physically—but like reality itself was pivoting around some invisible axis, and Erah was at the center.Above him, the seven rings groaned to life.

Their movement was broken, stuttering, as if time no longer knew how to flow through them.The Last Rememberer stood unmoved beneath the shifting ceiling.“You’re beginning to affect them,” he said softly.

“The Constants are noticing.”

Erah stared up at the rings.

Each symbol pulsed dimly—flickering like dying stars.

And with each pulse, a wave of nausea hit him.

Memories not his own flooded in: worlds unraveling, timelines splitting, people forgetting their own names mid-sentence.He clutched his head, but the visions came faster.A city frozen mid-motion, its people stuck between seconds.

A child floating sideways through collapsing gravity.

A man screaming inside an hourglass, aging in reverse.

And through all of it—one name kept showing up:

His own.

Over and over again.

Etched into walls, whispered by shadows, carved into the skin of dying gods.“I don’t understand what I’m becoming,” Erah muttered.

The Rememberer nodded, slowly.“You were never meant to understand.”

“You were meant to break the cycle by existing.”

A rumble cut through the room—low, ancient.

The seven rings suddenly aligned into a spiral, pointing down into a dark hole beneath the floor that hadn’t been there a moment ago.From that void, a mechanical hum rose.The wheel has begun to turn.

The Rememberer’s voice turned grim.“This is the Machine of Forgetting.

The core of the Constants’ power.

It resets anomalies.

It cleans the story.

It wipes.”

Erah took a step forward, drawn toward the spiral.“Then why haven’t I been wiped?” he asked.

The Rememberer’s answer came after a pause.“Because the wheel doesn’t remember how.”

Erah looked down into the void.

Below, something enormous was shifting—layers of reality grinding like gears.

He could see fragments of himself down there.

Past versions.

Some looked human.

Others… did not.One of them looked up.

It had no eyes, but somehow it saw him.“I am what you could have become,” it said, silently.

“If you turn back now, you’ll become me.”

Erah clenched his fists.The Rememberer placed a frail hand on his shoulder.“You have a choice now.

You can leap into the spiral… and try to reprogram the machine from inside.

Or you can walk away… and let the Constants reset everything when they collapse.”

“And you?

What will you do?”

Erah asked.

“I’ve already been forgotten,” the man whispered.

“I’m just here to witness… if someone remembers.”

Erah stood at the edge.All around him, the chamber was coming undone.

The rings were losing coherence.

The walls were fading.

Somewhere, outside this forgotten place, the Constants were fraying.

The world was bleeding.He took a breath.And jumped.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 8: The Nameless Engine​


Erah fell.

But there was no wind.

No direction.

No end.He fell into a void of meaning-a state where every law that once built the world had rotted away.

A soft click echoed around him, like some ancient switch had been flipped.

And then-he was no longer human.No more body.

Only consciousness.

Only thought.

---A field appeared.

Not because it existed-but because Erah remembered it did.

He stood in it now-grass swaying golden beneath a dying sky.

Far ahead, on a hill, a young boy was burying something.Erah walked toward him.

The boy didn't notice.But then... he did.

Because it was himself-a memory of his childhood long erased.> "This isn't memory," Erah whispered.

"This is a forgotten version of me, rising to the surface."

He knelt and dug into the dirt.

Buried there: a small silver box, locked with a symbol of a melting clock.He opened it.Inside were:

- A broken chain.

- A worn notebook.

- And a single scrap of paper:> "If you remember this, the machine has failed."

---The field vanished.He was falling again.

But this time, he was falling inward.

---A room unfolded.Steel.

Cold.

Endless.

The walls were alive with flowing symbols-like digital veins, pulsing code.

In the center, it floated:The Nameless Engine-a spinning cube, its faces glowing with echoes of lives not lived.

Each face showed a different Erah:> A warrior.

A traitor.

A god.

A shadow.

A voice-smooth and distant-echoed in his mind:> "Choose a face.

Define yourself."

Erah hesitated.

If he chose, he would stabilize.

But if he refused...> "I won't choose," he whispered.

"I'll be what they can't write."

---The cube jolted.

The room cracked open.

The streaming symbols bled out and vanished.Then-another voice.

Older than space.

Deeper than time.> "You've broken the final law:

To redefine yourself without a framework."

---And in that moment, Erah saw it all:> The pasts of all his versions.

The deaths of the Constants.

The seven faceless gods-trembling before a being outside logic.

And he laughed.Not out of victory-

But because, for the first time... he wasn't a name.He was the blank page.

The space before the story.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 9: The Trial OF Definitions​


A tremor spread across the layers of reality.From inverted cities to red-dying stars, every sentient structure, every thinking system felt it-

Something cracking beneath the surface.

Like a glitch spreading through the universe's source code.Then came a nameless entity, emerging into a coordinate that no longer obeyed measurement.It whispered into the void:"We must convene.

It has stepped outside the blueprint."

At Tribunal ZeroSeven entities gathered.

No forms.

No voices.

They were the pure definitions birthed by constants:Time: a stream of blood feeding on itself.Space: an endless mirror, reflecting then devouring.Gravity: a claw that clings to every fall.And four others: Law, Beginning, Ending, and Meaning.They looked toward the convergence point-

Where Erah stood, not as a being, but as a non-definition.

No roots.

No branches.

No language to contain him."

It breaks the flow," said Time, a voice like centuries collapsing.

"It does not move forward... yet it does not stand still."

"It is outside my mirrors," echoed Space.

"It cannot be located.

It cannot be held."

"It has no mass," murmured Gravity.

"Yet its presence bends me."

Meaning remained silent.

Then finally spoke:"It is redefining the idea of existence itself.

If we do not act-

All things with names will dissolve into blankness."

A verdict was delivered:"Summon the First Protocol:

If an entity cannot be defined-

...it must either be erased,

or forced to write itself."

Meanwhile - within ErahErah sat in a storm of white.Every moment stretched across eternity.

He heard the verdict, though it was never spoken aloud.

He felt unseen eyes, judging his very structure.And he was not afraid."

If I must be rewritten," he said,

"then I'll be the one holding the pen.

I'm not the error.

I'm line one of a new language."

The sky cracked above.

Seven streaks of light descended like divine lightning.A circle of code spun beneath him-

An unseen hand began rewriting Erah."

Name: Undefined."

"Function: ...recalculating..."

"Role: ...reassigning..."

Erah smiled.

He raised his hand-

And touched the code writing him.The characters stuttered:ERROR: ENTITY MODIFIES OWN DEFINITION.

The entire circle ignited and exploded.Erah rose.He was no longer undefined.He had become the Definition of Rewriting-

A logic loop too self-aware to terminate.And for the first time,

the Seven Definitions took a step back.
​
 
Wither Sky
Chapter 10: The Void That Remembers​


When the Seven Definitions stepped back, a boundless emptiness opened behind Erah.

It wasn't a portal.

It wasn't another dimension.

It was a moment that had never been born.A voice - not from any source, yet present in every grain of vacuum - spoke:"You broke the shape.

But now you must face the final threshold:

The Void That Remembers."

What is the Void That Remembers?It is where unnamed ideas gather.

Where failed universes are folded into forgotten dreams.

Where even "space," "time," and "gravity" shed their old skins before becoming laws.And Erah... was being pulled into it.He crossed the boundary.

No light.

No shadow.

Only layers of memory not yet remembered, spiraling like a storm.Within the whirlwind, Erah saw:A version of himself that had never been born, trapped in an "almost-existed" moment.A god kneeling, rewriting its own name over and over, desperate not to be erased.A world where all beings lived backward - from death to womb.And in the center of it all stood:

A creature thin as thread, tall as sky, with eyes made of cracks in reality.It whispered:"Are you the glitch, or are you the patch?"

Erah answered:"I'm the test no one prepared for."

The Void recoiled.

Reality began to restructure itself around Erah.

For the first time, a being was rewriting how existence perceives itself.Erah reached out - not to destroy, but to immerse himself in the act of genesis.In that moment, the Definitions, the Constants, the Streams...

stopped.And the voice of the Void spoke one last time:"If you survive me,

...you are no longer a being.

You are a pre-definition -

The thing that other things will be written upon."

A black light flowed through Erah.

No pain.

No joy.

No fear.

Only acknowledgment.He was no longer "Erah."

That name could no longer contain him.He had become...

The Origin Glyph.

-To Be Continued.....
​
 
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