IAmThatWhatIAm

In Fractured Will, reality is shaped by a powerful force called Will, which individuals can harness to manipulate the world around them. Those who wield it, known as Will Shapers, can reshape reality itself, but the more they use their Will, the more it costs them slowly eroding their identity. If they push too far, they become Fragments, powerful but unstable beings. The world is divided into multiple realms, including the Prime Realm (the material world), the Meta Realm (a higher dimension of power), and the Fractured Realm (where those who’ve lost control of their Will are trapped). Various factions vie for control of Will’s power, including the Shapers (who seek transcendence through power), the Fragmented (who have lost themselves to Will), and the Guardians (who try to maintain balance). The central conflict is the struggle for control over Will, with each character facing the choice between gaining immense power or losing their sense of self in the process. The deeper one goes into Will, the greater the risk of becoming a Fractured being, and only by fully embracing this transformation can one transcend their human limitations.

“`Fractured Will`”

"Without a storyteller, the story does not stop... it fades."

There was no explosion.No fire. No storm. No black void.

The Narrative Bubble the entire world they had bled, loved, and died in ceased. Not violently. Not even tragically.

It simply wasn't there anymore.

The moment Nyx was erased by the Guardians, the structure of the world he created collapsed like unwritten code. Mountains vanished. Oceans inverted into blankness. Time lost its grip, language failed to form.

Entire histories turned to footnotes in nothingness.

They were Yellow,The Immortal Girl,The Fragmented Sibling,The Reformed Monster Children,Even the Arch-Demon's leftover spark,The Blacksmith's Final Weapon,And a few others who had adapted beyond rules.

They survived not because they resisted collapse, but because they were too written into the ink too engraved in the narrative DNA.

They glowed with leftover fragments of Nyx's imagination his careless, bored, limitless gifting. They were, to put it plainly

Too potent to disappear.

Then they felt it A pull, not physical.Like being read again by a new pair of eyes.

"This Narrative Bubble is dead. You are being relocated."

It was unlike anything they had ever seen.

They landed not on ground, but on concept.Not in space, but inside plot.

This new Narrative Bubble was fresh untouched, but primordial. It wasn't shaped yet. There were no buildings. No history. Not even air in the traditional sense.

Just floating arcs of possibility, themes trying to form themselves. Abstracts becoming landscapes. It was like watching imagination bootstrap reality.

"This is a First Draft World," said the Immortal Girl, eyes wide."It's… building itself based on us."

And it was true. As each survivor stepped, the land reshaped to reflect their essence.

Where Yellow stood, battlefields formed and flags waved.

Where the Sibling walked, echoes of the Arch-Demon flared as volcanoes roared.

Where the Blacksmith's Weapon hovered, forge-temples appeared, humming with old gods.

Where the Immortal Girl stepped… hope grew.

But this time, there was no author.

What do you do when you are free from all narrative law… but your past is built on stories?

Chapter 58: The Transfer of Existence