The world did not shatter.
It simply… Paused.
Birds froze mid-flight, their wings caught between Motion and Memory. Oceans held their breath, waves unmoving like painted murals. The wind stilled, not because it was silenced, but because it had forgotten how to move. Trees ceased to sway, not from stillness, but from confusion, as if even nature questioned its role at this moment.
And time... Time stood on the edge of a question.
Somewhere, in a realm draped in celestial law, a god reached for their dominion… Only to find it slipping like sand through trembling fingers.
A prophet opened their mouth, but the visions were gone, replaced by static.
A historian turned a page, expecting ink and certainty, but met only blank parchment.
The Rewrite had touched everything.
Not violently. Not loudly. Not even with intention.
It simply was.
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