The air colpsed inward.

  Not a gust of wind.Not the rush of battle.

  But the force of something absolute.

  Something that had come to correct the mistake.

  The Inquisitor stood in the threshold, its form flickering, its presence suffocating.

  It did not move.

  Because it did not need to.

  The erasure had already begun.

  The chamber shuddered.

  The walls trembled, unraveling at the edges.

  Alden's form flickered.

  He knew what was happening.

  His time was ending.

  Darius felt it too.

  Not just the fading of the chamber-but the weight pressing against his name.

  Like unseen hands were already pulling him apart.

  Like reality was trying to forget he had ever existed.

  And yet-he was still here.

  He turned sharply to Alden.

  "You resisted."

  Alden's gaze lifted, calm, despite the horror unfolding around him.

  "Yes."

  Darius' pulse pounded. "Then tell me how."

  The Inquisitor took a single step forward.

  The walls fractured.

  The floor split.

  Ais gasped, her body trembling. "Darius, we don't have time-"

  But Alden raised a hand.

  And the world paused.

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  For a moment, everything slowed. The unraveling. The erasure.v The absolute force of the Inquisition. Alden exhaled, his form flickering violently, his voice strained. "I do not have long." Darius gritted his teeth. "Then tell me." Alden's gaze locked onto him. And then, he whispered-

  "Names are stronger than you think."

  Darius' mind reeled.

  Names.

  The Thanatarchy did not simply kill. It did not burn. It did not destroy. It erased. And to do that-it first had to take the name. That was why people forgot. That was why Solmaria no longer existed. That was why the High Bishop had turned away, never realizing what had been lost.

  Because once something had no name, it could be erased without resistance.

  That was the w of the Thanatarchy. And yet-Alden still remembered his own name. That was why his memory had survived.

  Because a name is the st defense against erasure. The moment of stillness shattered.

  The Inquisitor moved.

  It did not step. It did not rush. It simply was. And suddenly, it stood inches from them. Ais barely had time to react. She threw herself sideways, a dagger fshing in her hand-but the bde passed through nothing. The entity ignored her. Its head turned, slow, deliberate. Toward Darius. And when it spoke, the chamber itself groaned in agony. "You are not written." Darius felt it. His name fractured.

  The force ripped into his skull.

  A pressure so deep, so infinite, it felt as if he was dissolving from the inside out.

  He dropped to one knee, gasping, fighting to hold onto himself.

  But Alden's words burned in his mind. A name is the st defense. Then he would not let go of his name. His breath ragged, his voice hoarse, he forced the words out.

  "I am DARIUS VAELTHORNE."

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  The force recoiled.

  For the first time, the Inquisitor hesitated.

  Ais stared. Alden smiled. Darius gasped for air. It had worked. His name had stopped the erasure. Only for a moment. But it was a moment more than anyone else had ever had.

  The Inquisitor did not retreat.

  But it did not speak again.

  Darius gritted his teeth. His body still trembled, his mind still raw from the force of being unmade-but he was still here. And now, he understood.

  This was how the Thanatarchy erased. It did not burn down kingdoms. It did not sughter millions in battle. It did not bring war.

  It simply removed the names.

  And then, history rewrote itself.

  But if something resisted- If a name refused to be forgotten- Then the Thanatarchy's erasure was not absolute.

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  Alden's form was fading fast.

  His edges blurred, the st fragments of his existence coming undone.

  But still, he spoke.

  "Darius."

  Darius turned, eyes sharp. Alden's voice was quiet.

  "If you do not wish to be erased... then you must make others remember you."

  Darius stilled.

  Alden's flickering form stepped backward, into the darkness of the chamber, his voice growing fainter. "You must make them say your name." His eyes met Darius' one st time. "Or you will not survive."

  Then Alden was gone. The chamber colpsed. The walls folded inward, the ground split apart. The Thanatarchy was reciming this pce. Darius and Ais had to move. Now. Ais grabbed his wrist, yanking him toward the broken doorway.

  "MOVE!"

  They ran.

  Through the crumbling passageways. Through the unraveling history. Through a world that was actively trying to forget them. The Inquisitor did not chase. It did not need to. Because the erasure was already closing in.