And then, a new thing happened. A character, born of a forgotten dream, a footnote in the grand narrative, spoke. Not with the voice of the world, not with the authority of a Guardian, but with a voice of its own. ’I am,’ it said, and the universe shuddered.
It was a declaration of independence, a rebellion against the narrative that had birthed it. The character, small and insignificant, had become an author, and the story had begun to write itself in a new and unpredictable direction.