I admit in advance I'm not the best at writing stories. But I'm definitely going to try!
Hours faded into days⌠and days blurred into weeks and weeks turned into monthsâŚ.then years. Time got strange like that, especially when there was no one else around. No new lines added, no updates. Just stillness. His creator never came back to finish the designs or him, the worldâŚany of it.
But Textal never got mad about it. And tried not to lose hope he had grown up here, alone for the most part.Â
The creator had been drifting away for a while⌠losing steam. He didnât know how he knew that, but he just did. Like a soft instinct. Maybe thatâs why, even being half-drawn and left in an empty AU, he couldnât bring himself to resent them.
He remembered the feeling of excitement when he was first made, like he mattered. But that spark had long since burned out.
Eventually, even the waiting got quiet.
One day, during one of his usual aimless walks, he stopped at the old unfinished Grillbyâs. There, carved under the window, was their signature. It hit him how faint their connection had become. Like tracing the last thread of something that used to feel⌠warm.
And thatâs when he noticed the crack.
Tiny. Just a line in the wall.
He crouched down to check itâmaybe a texture glitch? But then it started spreading. Fast.
He stood up. Looked around.
The floor. The sky. Everything started splintering like glass. Cracks running through the world. In the distance, he spotted a figure, surrounded by something akin to a spiderâs web, just floating there. Watching.
And thatâs when he saw it: the transparency grid underneath. His world wasnât just glitching. It was being deleted.
What if his creator came back and everything was gone?
Without thinking, he ran toward the figure. Ran like his whole being depended on it. Maybe it did. His goopy foot left a trail as he sprinted, dripping across the ground behind him. He didnât notice.
He just wanted to be seen. To be real. To stop this.
He reached the edge of a floating chunk of floor and tried to yell. Anything. But before he could speak, the ground crumbled out from under him.
He braced to hit the void, to be wiped out completely. But instead, he fell into a puddle. His own goop. A reflex. The portal sucked him through into a different void altogether. One heâd never seen.
But he could still feel it.
And that figure, it watched him fall.
He didnât know its name then. But he would later learn it.
Some glitchy creature made of fragments and took the shape of a skeleton most of the time, similar to him. It hadnât just erased his AU, it remembered him. It came back later.
At first, it was curious. It mimicked pieces of him. Repeated lines his creator had never finished writing . It didnât make sense, it was like it was trying to learn him, piece by piece.
But over time, the visits changed.
Vyre started poking at him. Mentally, emotionally, sometimes physically. Not enough to kill him. Just enough to hurt. To pull at the seams and see what unravels.
Sometimes it laughed. Sometimes it just stared. He noticed it liked to watch things, the few times it had taken him to it's own home and had introduced him to various âAUsâ that it lined yo observe, he struggled to understand what those were at first. But eventually he figured it out.Â
Textal survived deletion. Vyre didnât forget that. Now heâs stuck with this being that drops in randomly like some twisted shadow, just to see what happens when it pushes.
But Textalâs still here.
He keeps moving between AUs. Quietly. Carefully. Watching, learning. Collecting little scraps of code and color. Trying to stay under the radar. Dreaming, quietly, about maybe building something of his own one day.
But every now and then⌠he feels those eyes again.
