The tower grew incorporeal.

A haze surrounded every inch of the land that still to this day is rife with activity of automation.

A young girl sat upon a chair in the highest floor. She was a creation of mechanical engineering marvel, emboldened by magic that only enhanced hur further.

Yet, her eyes seemed glassy. Distant.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She wondered if he would ever come back. She wondered why she felt herself fraying at the seams.

For months, the A.I and the Director comforted her and they too shared in her grief. They wondered if he would ever come back.

They wondered if they were all going to disappear.

They wondered if they were going to be forgotten.

Multiple fates awaited a story that was created.

For one, they could be started and finished. That was indeed an optimal outcome.

Or, they could be left on hiatus or discontinued.

A common saying populated the internet. Nobody's really dead if you are still in their memories and are still remembered.

They wondered.. did that mean they were as good as dead?