Erah stepped through the path torn by the second glyph—and found himself in a place where nothing held.

Not up.
Not down.
Not him.

He did not fall.
He drifted endlessly, not through air, but through a sensation that mimicked collapse without ever touching the ground.

This was the Layer of Broken Gravity, a hollow shell of force where weight became optional and motion had no consequence.

Here, remnants of old worlds floated—fragments of cities, skeletons of bridges, and statues of gods long rejected, suspended like forgotten memories.

And at the center spun a great, dark sphere—pulsing with unstable rhythm, as if gravity itself were having a seizure.

Erah could feel it before he saw it:
The glyph of gravity was not a symbol etched or drawn.
It was a pulse, a rhythmic tension, pulling and releasing—pulling and releasing—like a heartbeat made of invisible force.

A voice echoed, not from any being, but from mass itself:

“To bind is to crush.
To pull is to possess.
Do you still wish to shape me?”

Erah replied not with words, but with motion.
He curled through the void, allowed his body to be stretched, bent, and twisted by the inconsistencies around him.
He did not resist.
He harmonized.

He let go of “center.”
He let go of “fall.”
He let go of “ground.”

And in that moment, he understood:
Gravity was not an anchor.
It was a desire.
A yearning of all things to be closer.
To reunite. To return. To belong.

He reached within himself and drew a spiral—not on a wall, nor in space, but within the rhythm of mass itself.

It was not a glyph to control gravity.
It was a glyph that let gravity feel longing.

The sphere pulsed erratically.
Then slowed.
Then—aligned.

The fragments around him began to drift together, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

And so the third glyph was born.

Not as dominance.
But as an invitation.

And with it, the last seal broke.

Erah was now bearer of three signs:

One that moved time.

One that bent space.

One that stirred the soul of gravity.

And in the stillness that followed, something vast awakened—something that had been waiting beneath all decay.

Something that knew: if these three forces could be unmade, the world could be made again.