Gг©nг©rique

He realized then that they weren't living in a world; they were living in a draft. They were the placeholders, the "Insert Character Here" of a story that hadn't been written yet.

That night, Elias didn't sleep. He watched the digital clock on the bedside table. It didn't tick; it simply changed from to 02:01 in a sterile glow. GГ©nГ©rique

Elias looked at the bottle cap. For the first time in his life, he felt a sharp, stinging pain in his thumb where the metal pressed against his skin. It was a sensation that didn't have a label. It wasn't just ; it was a cold, metallic bite. He realized then that they weren't living in