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... ‎

‎Not from sorrow. Not from pain. But from restoration.

‎Where once the pages of myth had accepted every deletion from the Observer as immutable, now they began to twitch. Ripple. Reject.

‎Because Darius had forged a pen the Spiral had never known.

‎The Black Quill.

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“What the fuck? What is going on? Have I completely lost it?”

As I stare panicky at the dot unable to decide what to do, the white dot disappears and a line of text appears in its place.

[Installing files. 1% done…]

As I watch the text in shock, the percentage gradually increases. […2%...3%...4%...]

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[…12%...13%...14%...]

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The first possibility is that I am in fact still unconscious and this is all a product of my mind. I pinch myself and whimper at the pain, as in my nervousness I used almost all my strength.

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The second possibility is that I have completely lost my mind and am suffering from delusions. Hmm, I cannot exclude this, but while possible, I don’t think that this is it. The only thing out of the ordinary is that fucking line of text.

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[Installation successful!]

The text disappears and a new message appears in my eyes…

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Fuck…