The words hung in the air like a curse. "Still watching?" Raj repeated, his voice uneasy. Meera traced the glowing text with her fingers. "It means someone—something—is still controlling the story." The golden light had saved Rana, but it hadn't erased the force behind the rewriting. "We might have fixed one part, but something is still pulling the strings," Ravi said grimly. Aarav sat up, still pale from the entity's attack. "If they could erase Rana, what else have they changed?" The thought sent a chill through them all. What if more people had been rewritten?
Rana clenched his fists. "Then we find out who did this. We stop them before they erase anyone else." His words carried an edge of anger—anger at being forgotten, at being turned into a shadow of himself. But Raj shook his head. "It's not that simple. We don't even know where to start." The city had stabilized, but an unnatural stillness lingered, like the calm before a storm. "We need to go back to the bookstore," Meera said. "If anyone knows what's happening, it's the Archivist." Ravi hesitated. "And if he's the one behind it?" Meera's jaw tightened. "Then we make him answer."
The walk back felt unnerving. The streets were normal, but something felt… off. The people they passed looked distant, like faded memories. "They don't remember us," Aarav whispered. "Not just Rana—none of us." It was true. The shopkeepers who once greeted them barely glanced their way. "It's like we were erased from the city itself," Raj murmured. The realization hit hard. If someone had rewritten the story, they hadn't just targeted Rana—they had started erasing them all. "We have to hurry," Meera urged, her grip tightening on the page. "Before we disappear completely."
They reached the bookstore, but the sight of it made them stop in their tracks. The building was different—older, dustier, as if untouched for years. "This isn't right," Ravi muttered. The sign was faded, the windows dark. It looked abandoned. "It was open earlier," Aarav said, a sinking feeling in his chest. Meera stepped forward, trying the door. It swung open with a creak, revealing a room covered in dust and cobwebs. The shelves were empty. The warmth of the store was gone. "This place… it's been erased too," Raj said in disbelief. "Then where is the Archivist?"
A flicker of movement in the shadows made them all freeze. A figure stood at the back of the store, half-hidden in darkness. "You shouldn't be here," a voice murmured. Ravi's breath caught. "Who's there?" The figure stepped forward—a tall man in a long coat, his face obscured by the dim light. "The story does not belong to you," he said softly. Meera's grip on the page tightened. "Who are you?" The man tilted his head. "A witness." His voice was calm, but something about it felt unnatural, hollow. "You shouldn't have tried to change the past."
Rana took a step forward, his eyes locked on the stranger. "Who rewrote me?" The man's expression didn't change. "The one who watches. The one who decides what remains and what fades." He gestured around the bookstore. "This place was never meant to exist. Neither were you." The words sent a chill through them all. "You're lying," Raj snapped. "We were always here." The man sighed. "That's what they all say, before they forget." He turned slightly, and for the first time, they saw his eyes—empty, dark voids, like the entity they had faced before.
"You don't belong in this story anymore," the man said. "Leave now, while you still can." Ravi's jaw clenched. "And if we don't?" The man's gaze didn't waver. "Then you'll vanish like the rest." Meera took a deep breath. "You're trying to erase us, aren't you?" The man didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes. "We're not going anywhere," Rana growled. "We're taking back what was stolen." The man studied them for a moment before sighing. "Then I suppose we'll have to begin again." He raised a hand, and the world around them started to shift.
The shelves warped, the floor rippled like water. The bookstore was unraveling. "He's rewriting it now!" Aarav shouted. The man's voice was barely a whisper. "Time to forget." A wave of darkness surged toward them. "RUN!" Meera yelled, gripping the page tightly. They bolted toward the exit, but the door was fading. "It's closing!" Raj gasped. Ravi reached forward, his fingers just barely grasping the handle before it disappeared. A powerful force pulled them backward. The bookstore was gone. They were falling—falling into nothingness. And the last thing they heard was the man's voice. "Sleep well, forgotten ones."