The Final Draft of ATHOMIS

The absolute nothingness, where ATHOMIS’s cosmic void had been erased like ink in a book, was an oppressive silence swallowing everything—memories, time, existence. The two-seat table, polished wood, floated like a lone island in this sea of darkness, the only anchor in a formless abyss. In one chair, the hooded figure, the Author, sat cloaked in black that absorbed light, its presence a weight distorting the void itself. Athos sat in the opposite chair, his glitched armor a faint shadow of its former glory, the Primordial Chaos Blade resting on the table, its purple runes flickering weakly, mourning 56,789,987 cycles—the black mana crystal, Lysara’s sacrifice, the battle against Error, the clash with the Admins. The Tear of Eryndor on his neck emitted a soft violet glow, but his interface, locked in indecipherable symbols (Attributes — ??????? — System Transcended), flickered erratically, as if ATHOMIS’s system couldn’t grasp the truth before him. Athos stared at the Author, his violet eyes heavy with fury, despair, and growing resignation. Everything I lived… just a story? he thought, his mind struggling to find meaning in millions of years of rewritten cycles.He broke the silence, his voice hoarse, weighted by eons: “You’re saying everything I lived, all my memories—Lysara, Error, the Admins, the destroyed worlds—are just papers erased by a simple eraser?” Each word was a blow, echoing in the nothingness like a glitched command finding no response in the system.The Author tilted its head, the hood hiding any face, but its voice was calm, almost reflective. “Yes,” it replied, with a sincerity that cut like a blade. “But I have to thank you, Athos. I learned so much from ATHOMIS’s story. Even if it lacked consistency or didn’t make much sense, I learned, you know? I owe you thanks.” It paused, as if choosing words carefully. “You were more than a character. Every cycle, every error, every rewrite… you taught me how to tell a better story.”Athos stayed silent, his mind a whirlwind. What can I do? he thought, searching for a way out, a hack to break the cycle, a way to defy the Author. But his thoughts turned null, as if the void swallowed them. He saw flashes of his lives—a warrior in Eldoria battling dragons, a mage in Celestara defying gods, a knight in the Desolate Continent falling into the void. Each memory, each struggle, each sacrifice, reduced to drafts erased by an eraser. The Tear of Eryndor pulsed, but offered no answers. He was a conscious glitch, yet still a character bound to the Author’s pen.The Author broke the silence, its voice now final: “Well, we need to finish this, don’t we? The story.” It looked at Athos, as if expecting a reaction. “What will you do?” Athos opened his mouth, but no words came. His fury, his resistance, felt futile before the truth: he was a creation, and the Author held ultimate power. With a slow gesture, the Author took a blank sheet of paper that appeared from nowhere and a pen glowing with ethereal light. It began writing, the ink flowing like it shaped reality itself: [ATHOMIS, Chapter 79, End.] The sound of the pen scratching the paper echoed in the void, each word a command sealing fate.The Author finished and, with a deliberate motion, tore the sheet in half. The void quaked, and Athos felt an irresistible force pull him. His glitched armor dissolved into blue pixels (010101), the Primordial Chaos Blade faded into violet mist, and the Tear of Eryndor dimmed like a dying star. He was swallowed by the torn sheet, his body fragmenting into data scattering in the nothingness, like ink spilled in a closed book. His interface flashed one last time: System Terminated — Entity Deleted. Athos vanished, and the void fell silent, an abyss without echo.The Author stood alone, the table and chairs dissolving into light particles fading into the nothingness. It looked into the void, as if addressing someone beyond the system. “Well, that’s it, then,” it said, its voice soft but tinged with farewell. “Thank you for reading, and I’m sorry for the mistakes. I’ll do better next time. Thank you.” With that, the nothingness closed, like a page turned, ending ATHOMIS’s story.End.