The Realm of Broken Names

They arrived without ceremony.

The light that had carried them from the Valley of Borrowed Time faded behind them like a forgotten sunrise. What remained was... gray. Not bleak. Not barren. Just gray.

Gray skies, gray earth, gray rivers. The world they stood in had color once, but someone—or something—had scrubbed it clean. The only sound was the occasional flutter of windless echoes, like voices that had been misplaced.

Gao Mingyu and Li Xuan stood on a crumbling hill that overlooked a wasteland of half-formed cities. Towers with no tops. Roads with no destinations. Names of places drifted like smoke through the air, then vanished before they could be read.

"This place feels wrong," Li Xuan said, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"It's more than that," Mingyu replied. "It's been erased."

Above them, an enormous rune drifted in the sky like a broken compass, spinning slowly. It pulsed every few moments, and with each pulse, a memory tried to surface—only to dissolve. Mingyu clutched his chest.

"Do you feel that?"

Li Xuan nodded, her voice thin. "It's trying to take our names."

They were in the Realm of Broken Names—a place forgotten even by the Archive. A realm where everything that had ever been erased was stored. Ideas. Identities. Destinies.

And something here had teeth.

---

They walked for what felt like hours. Or seconds. Time twisted again, but not in loops like before. It felt... hollow. Like something had consumed it from within.

Statues lined the broken roads. Faceless, posture slouched. Some looked almost like people they knew. Mingyu paused before one.

It wore his old Tiger cloak.

But its face was blank.

The plaque beneath read: "Gao Ming—"

Then the letters faded.

"I don't like this," he muttered.

"You were right," said Li Xuan. "We're not being hunted anymore."

"We're being... rewritten."

As they journeyed deeper, the sensation worsened. Every memory they clung to began to blur at the edges. Aunt Bao's arm—had it been her right or her left? Rui Lin's laugh—was it sharp or musical? Small doubts crept into their minds like mold growing in the cracks of an old home.

The path narrowed. Trees rose like skeletal fingers, covered not in leaves, but in scraps of paper fluttering faintly. Some were blank. Others bore half-written stories, forgotten poems, and broken names. A single breeze sent one spinning down.

Li Xuan caught it.

It read: "To the girl with the open gate in her soul. May you find forgiveness in another life."

She stared at it, then let it go.

"Do you think these are from people like us?"

"Maybe," Mingyu said. "Or maybe this realm feeds on regret."

They passed by a stone pillar. Words were etched into it:

"This is where I lost myself."

The world grew darker, though no sun had set. The sky bled ink.

---

At the heart of the gray wasteland stood a monument—a tower of books, scrolls, and carvings stacked precariously high. They climbed it, each step a different language, a different culture.

The top was flat. A dais.

And sitting upon it… was a child.

Pale, with ink-black eyes and robes stitched from blank parchment. Her feet didn't touch the floor. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded like a quill scratching against wet skin.

"You are not supposed to be here," she said simply.

"We've heard that before," Mingyu answered.

The child tilted her head. "Yet here you are. Broken. Named. In a place that unnames."

Li Xuan stepped forward. "We're not here to fight. Just to survive."

"Survival is rewriting," the girl said. "Are you willing to lose what you were to become what you need to be?"

The wind died.

The books around the dais flapped open. Names rose into the air, glowing briefly before dissolving. Among them, Mingyu saw his father's name. Li Xuan saw her sister's.

The child stood.

"This realm is mine. I am Nameless. The Unauthor. Keeper of the Forgotten."

Mingyu frowned. "Then why haven't you unmade us yet?"

"Because you're remembered by someone who refuses to forget."

Li Xuan blinked. "Damian."

Nameless nodded. "He hunts you not to kill you, but to erase you. If you vanish here, he can write the rest of the story without resistance."

Mingyu stepped forward. "Then what do we do?"

The Nameless girl held up her hand. A quill formed. Not a weapon, but a tool.

"You must write yourself anew. Not who you were. Who you are now."

A page unfurled from the sky, large enough to walk upon.

"Write?" Li Xuan asked.

"Not with ink," said Nameless. "With truth."

Mingyu looked at Li Xuan. She nodded.

They stepped onto the page.

It felt like walking on memory. Each step pulsed with a thought. A fear. A dream.

As they walked, the world began to shift.

The sky filled with color—just hints at first. Blue bleeding through the gray. The towers in the distance shimmered. Some regained names.

Mingyu spoke first. "I am Gao Mingyu. I slept through greatness because I feared becoming it. But I have walked through death. Through lies. Through regrets. And now, I'm wide awake."

A line etched itself across the page.

Li Xuan followed. "I am Li Xuan. I opened doors I couldn't close. I failed people I loved. But I carry them with me. Their hopes. Their truths. I am more than what I lost."

Another line.

Nameless watched with unreadable eyes. "You speak well. But it is not complete."

A third line appeared, written in neither voice.

"Together, we are what the world forgot it needed."

And the page sealed.

A pulse of light spread across the realm. Statues regained faces. Roads straightened. The compass rune in the sky shattered, freeing time.

Nameless smiled.

"You've rewritten your fates. That makes you dangerous. Be proud."

Mingyu grinned. "We're used to being problems."

She nodded. "Then one final gift."

A door appeared. Black wood. Crimson trim. No handle.

"It leads to the edge of all things. If Damian finds you, he won't follow through it. But once you pass, you cannot return."

Li Xuan looked at Mingyu. "Ready?"

He exhaled. "Always."

As they stepped through, Nameless whispered:

"Tell the world there are still names worth remembering."

---

On the other side was darkness.

But it wasn't empty.

Stars floated around them like curious eyes. Each one pulsed with potential, not just light.

A long road shimmered before them, cobbled together with choices not yet made. With truths still unspoken. At its end—dim and distant—was a gate forged from silence itself.

And far ahead, in the great distance, a new realm stirred. Uncharted. Untouched.

Waiting.

Mingyu felt something stir in his chest. Not dread. Not fear.

Awe.

"We've rewritten ourselves," he said quietly.

"But not our ending," Li Xuan added.

"Not yet."

They walked side by side.

And behind them, the Realm of Broken Names whispered… and remembered them.