Chapter 1: The First Missing Word
While grading papers, Dr. Elias Voss spotted something impossible.
A student’s essay held a perfect rectangular void where a word should have been—no smudges, no strikethroughs, just emptiness.
“The results demonstrate that [ ] directly affects cognitive development.”
“Did you leave this blank intentionally?” Elias asked.
The student’s confusion deepened. “What blank?”
Later that night, Elias made a worse discovery. His first-edition Webster’s Dictionary had changed too. On page 417, the definition for “oblivion” had vanished, leaving only unmarked paper.
What began as curiosity now spiraled into dread.
Chapter 2: The Unspeaking Epidemic
Seventy-two hours later, the phenomenon exploded worldwide:
- News anchors faltered as teleprompters flashed hollow gaps.
- Courtrooms descended into chaos when stenographers recorded half-spoken truths.
- Love letters arrived with gutted declarations, stripping hearts bare.
Meanwhile, the CDC released a cryptic bulletin:
“Aphasia-like symptoms are spreading—yet sufferers deny anything’s missing.”
Then came Dr. Lina Chou’s breakthrough. The neuroscientist cornered Elias in the lab, her voice sharp with revelation:
“It’s selective. Only words that hold dangerous truths are disappearing.”
Chapter 3: The Forbidden Lexicon
Deeper research revealed a horrifying progression.
Phase One: Erased History
First went the ancient words—names of dead gods, reality-breaking equations, biographies rewritten by victors.
Phase Two: Silenced Truths
Next vanished terms for state-sanctioned crimes, forbidden sciences, utterances that bent fate.
Phase Three: The End of Hope
Finally, language itself rotted. No more tenderness, no forgiveness, no light left to name.
Lina thrust a 14th-century manuscript at Elias, its ink screaming across time:
“The Tower of Babel fell not from confusion, but from knowing too much.”
Now they understood. Some words were never meant to be remembered.
Chapter 4: The Last Dictionary
Their hunt led to a sealed Vatican vault and the Lexicon of Lost Things—a book that grew fatter as the world grew quieter. Fresh entries pulsed on its pages:
- Kósmognosis: The instant the universe’s design becomes clear (and unbearable).
- Maranatha: A summons to wake what should stay sleeping.
- Elias: His own name, wet with new ink.
When Lina traced the letters, her fingertips evaporated.
“They’re not forgotten,” she whispered as her voice unraveled. “They’re being reclaimed.”
Chapter 5: The Final Silence
Only then did Elias grasp his role.
As the last witness to forbidden words, he stood in the carcass of the Library of Congress and spoke three syllables that unmade existence.
The universe held its breath.
Then—
Nothing.
Not even the memory of silence.
