Elias did not sleep that night.
The word Astra stayed in his mind, echoing softly, even when he closed his eyes. It felt like a distant star calling his name, even though he didn't know what the word truly meant.
The archive had returned to normal.
The lights were steady.
The shelves were silent.
And yet…
Something was wrong.
When Elias arrived the next morning, the hallway felt slightly longer than it had the day before. He stopped halfway through and looked back.
The door was farther away.
Not moved.
Not changed.
Just… farther.
His chest tightened.
He continued walking.
At his desk, he found a record open that he did not remember leaving there. It listed the citizens of Valencryx, written in perfect ink.
One name caught his attention.
Elias Veyr.
He frowned.
The spelling was wrong.
One letter was missing.
That had never happened before.
He reached for his pen and corrected it.
The ink shimmered for a moment… then slowly faded.
The wrong version returned.
Elias swallowed.
The archive was refusing to be corrected.
Later that day, a junior archivist approached him.
"Master Elian, can you check this map for me?"
"My name is Elias," he replied.
The man blinked. "Yes. That's what I said."
Elias turned away, his heart pounding.
Words were slipping.
And when words slipped…
So did the world.
At lunch, Elias opened his bag.
The black book was still there.
For a moment, he was relieved.
Then he realized how terrifying that was.
He did not remember putting it back.
Yet somehow…
It had chosen to stay with him.
Outside, clouds slowly drifted across the sky.
For a brief second, they formed the shape of a word.
Astra.
Then they scattered.
And the world pretended nothing had happened.