The Redo Novels & Stories

Scarlett just grabs my elbow, dragging me with her behind him. Please tell me this isn't real. Tell me this is some sick joke. Ctrl Z? Undo? Rewind? Retake?

Yohan Dixon sipped his wine and gazed out towards the horizon. "Scarlette is behind Sara." Rudra Reddy's smile had vanished. "She slapped Sara." Yohan Dixon gazed at him, "You were there. Didn't you?" Rudra Reddy was powerless in front of his evil glare. He took a glance at the horizon. "I punched Scarlette." He took a sip. Did he know he had approached his wife many times in his absence? Yohan Dixon emitted smoke rings, and the air turned unexpectedly colder. "What are you up to?"

Every time a shard touched his shadow, a piece of him vanished—not wounded, but **"Edited Out." "He’s 'Redacting' us!" Silas roared, his form flickering as his left arm momentarily turned into a translucent wireframe. "He’s not fighting our bodies—he’s deleting our 'History'!" I felt the cold chill of the "Redaction" reaching for me. I reached into my chest, grabbing the **Admin-Key**. It was no longer just a piece of code; in this "True Actual Real," it was a physical weight, a burning violet star that pulsed with the rhythm of my heart.