The Un-Writing

A profound stillness descended upon the city as the reality of their decision set in. The process of un-writing was not instantaneous. It was a slow, creeping erasure, beginning with the oldest memories, the foundational stories. The grand epics of the author-gods were the first to fade, their narratives dissolving into a formless, meaningless static. Then, the city’s own history began to unravel. The bridge, the symbol of their collaboration, flickered and vanished. The council chambers, the site of their momentous debates, faded from existence. The citizens themselves began to feel the effects. Their own memories grew hazy, their identities becoming frayed at the edges. They were becoming blank pages, just as they had voted to be. Sol, the architect of this grand un-doing, watched with a growing sense of horror. He had envisioned a glorious rebirth, not this slow, agonizing dissolution into nothingness. He had not created a blank canvas, but a void.