He stood on the edge of the Void and looked back at his home. The World of Smudge was beautiful, he realized. A place of soft tragedies and overlapping dreams. But it was also a place of comfortable lies, where nothing was ever truly lost because nothing was ever truly found.
But Ero felt a pull. The Sharpness was terrifying, yes, but it was also… true. He gathered his courage, which looked like a damp tissue, and drifted toward the Clean Place. world of smudge
One day, a Catastrophe occurred. A cosmic eraser, wielded by some impatient child-deity, swept across a quadrant of the Smudge. It didn’t destroy it. It cleaned it. A perfect, sterile white void appeared—the Anti-Smudge. Smudglings who drifted too close felt their beloved grey blur solidify into painful, splintered shards of clarity. They saw their own edges for the first time and screamed. He stood on the edge of the Void and looked back at his home
