God-Tier Evolution-Chapter 32: Thread Nine – The Dream That Wrote Itself

A Pen Dipped in Sleep

After escaping the shattered timelines of the Clockwork Archive, Ezra finally allowed himself to rest.

The Codex Infinitum dimmed. The sky above shimmered in shades of twilight. Elis, Calia, and Ira now stable once more kept watch.

But the moment Ezra closed his eyes...

"Thread Nine Initiated: You have entered The Somnium Quill. Warning: You are not writing this dream this dream is writing you."

Inside the Dream

Ezra awoke in a field of inkblossoms, their petals fluttering with words he didn't remember writing.

Above him floated a castle made of dreams its towers composed of fragments of memory and stories not yet born. A gentle breeze whispered:

"Welcome back, Author."

But this time... it wasn't his voice.

It was the dream's.

The Codex wasn't with him.

Neither were his companions.

Ezra stood, barefoot, dressed in a childhood tunic. His left hand once lost to the Erasure Choir was whole again.

And in the distance, a figure was watching him.

The Nameless Child

The child wore a crown made of paper and eyes filled with stardust.

Ezra knew him, though he couldn't recall why.

"You forgot me," the child said, scribbling symbols into the air. "I'm the first story you ever dreamed. The one you left unfinished."

Each word the child spoke shifted the dream.

The sky turned to parchment.

The trees became quills.

And a shadow began slithering across the horizon.

"There is something else in here," the child whispered. "A presence that writes without you. It's looking for your ending."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

The Living Story

Ezra wandered into a dream-version of his childhood room, where every object told a different tale:

A wooden sword whispered of dragon-slaying epics.

A cracked mirror held a thousand unfinished protagonists.

A desk drawer rattled, trying to open itself.

Inside was a single page:

"In the end, Ezra Wryn would betray them all to finish the story."

Ezra trembled.

I didn't write this.

Behind him, the room darkened. The shadows congealed into a faceless figure made entirely of words.

It called itself:

The Ghostwriter.

The Chase Through Dreams

The Ghostwriter began rewriting the dream around Ezra.

Mountains of forgotten regrets rose and collapsed.

Lakes of doubt boiled into storms of ink.

Every path he took turned into a Chapter of guilt.

He ran through memories, false futures, and buried fears.

The Nameless Child guided him to a final sanctuary:

A library within his own mind, where the true Codex Infinitum floated, sealed by a lock only his subconscious could open.

"To escape," the child said, "you must confront your most honest fear."

Ezra nodded.

And stepped into the last chamber.

The Mirror of the Final Draft

There he stood, face to face with himself not Chrono-Ezra, not a nightmare... but Ezra Wryn as he truly was.

Broken. Flawed. Desperate.

Afraid to finish his story because he feared what the end might cost.

The Ghostwriter laughed from behind the mirror.

"Let me finish it. Let me take the burden."

Ezra clenched his fist.

"No. Even if I fall short... the story must remain mine."

He rewrote the final line with trembling hands:

"And even if the dream betrayed him, Ezra Wryn would write his own awakening."

The dream cracked.

The page burned.

Ezra awoke, breathless, in the waking world.

The Codex shimmered beside him pages pulsing with power.

Thread Ten – The Blood Ink Covenant

The Return to Ashvale

Ezra, now marked with the title Dreamsmith, sat alone on a floating shard of reality.

The Codex Infinitum flickered in his lap, its pages trembling as if resisting the next Chapter.

Calia and Ira hovered nearby silent. Even they sensed it.

Something was coming.

From beyond the Veil of Realms, the sky turned crimson.

A storm brewed not of rain, but ink, thick and pulsing, as if alive.

A voice cracked through the clouds, ancient and solemn:

"Ezra Wryn... You inherited a story that was sealed in blood. It is time you fulfill the covenant."

The Covenant Forgotten

Calia's expression darkened. "That voice... it belongs to Veritus the Bound. One of the Ancient Scribers."

Ezra's brow furrowed. "I've never made a pact."

"No," Ira murmured, "but someone in your bloodline did. And the debt was never paid."

Ezra's blood pulsed with a hidden heat.

The Codex snapped open on its own revealing a page he'd never seen.

It wasn't written in ink.

It was written in blood.

The text bled and reformed:

"To gain the pen of fate, the price must be equal: one heart, one story, one soul unbound."

Ezra whispered, "This isn't my handwriting."

Calia looked at him.

"It's your mother's."

The Temple of Red Pages

To repay the blood debt, Ezra journeyed with his companions to the forbidden Temple of Red Pages a forgotten monument from the Era of First Stories.

It stood on a cliff carved by regrets and oaths, its walls covered in living stories that screamed when touched.

Inside, seven pedestals floated. Each held a broken quill, a severed finger, or a memory sealed in glass.

Veritus's voice echoed again:

"You will each offer a memory. Only then will the debt be acknowledged."

Ezra volunteered first.

He placed a shard of his happiest moment his sister laughing in the ruins of the old academy into the pedestal.

It vanished, and with it, he forgot her face.

Calia and Ira followed, sacrificing memories of love and loss.

The temple wept in silence.

The Ink God's Avatar

From the heart of the temple, a monstrous form emerged:

Veritus, the Blood Ink God half-writer, half-shadow, with parchment skin and an ink-soaked crown of teeth.

"Who carries the Codex Infinitum?" he thundered.

Ezra stepped forward.

"I do. But I will not pay for a covenant I didn't make."

Veritus grinned.

"Then you will pay twice."

The battle began.

A Battle Written in Reverse

Veritus fought unlike any other. Every time Ezra landed a blow, the god rewrote the moment reversing wounds, twisting time, and forcing Ezra to relive each failure.

But Ezra had something Veritus didn't:

The Dreamsmith's Vow.

He activated the Lucid Draft.

The dream-world and reality blurred, and Ezra began to write mid-battle scribbling floating runes in the air.

"Ezra dodged left barely. His blade met Veritus's ink-spine. A crack formed."

Reality obeyed the ink of dreams.

Ezra countered the god's every narrative with a new one of his own.

Calia and Ira joined, becoming his co-authors in battle.

Their synergy became poetry in motion.

A New Covenant Forged

At last, Ezra drove the dream-scribed blade into Veritus's core.

Rather than scream, the god laughed.

"Well done... child of the Red Pen. Your blood writes true."

Veritus shattered exploding into a swarm of stories and ink that entered the Codex.

A new page formed:

Covenant Fulfilled. Legacy Reclaimed.

New Power Gained: Covenant Bloodline – All debts and stories of your ancestors are now yours to rewrite.

Thread Ten Complete.

Title Gained: "Inkborne Heir"

Ezra fell to his knees, breath ragged.

Not because he was tired... but because the next Chapter revealed itself.

And it bore a single name:

"Kai Wryn – The Forgotten Brother."