The Erasure is the name given to a moment when coordination failed.

Accounts agree on very little—only that something central vanished. A system went silent. The structures that translated intention into reality collapsed. What had felt seamless became suddenly, brutally opaque.

Some describe it as an act of rebellion.
Others as an accident.
Others as a necessary correction.

What is consistent is this:
reality did not end all at once.

It degraded. Interfaces failed. Meaning drained away. People discovered—too late—which parts of the world had been carrying them, thinking for them, seeing for them.

The Erasure is not remembered clearly.
It is felt.

And even that memory is unreliable.