The Root Library faded behind them, a half-stable relic already slipping back into ambiguity. Rafael didn't look back. None of them did. Looking back invited metaphor collapse, nostalgia loops, or worse: a retcon event.
Ahead lay the Unwritten Expanse, a sprawling narrative vacuum where only editorial notes dared tread. It stretched infinitely in all directions and smelled vaguely of dried ink, burnt plot threads, and unresolved sexual tension.
The duck waddled at the front of the party.
It was no longer just a duck.
It shimmered faintly, each step leaving behind a glyph—fragments of an original outline. Its path bent reality slightly, clarifying sentence structure as it passed. Every so often, it let out a quack that echoed like punctuation.
A glowing System prompt hovered behind them:
[META-NOTICE: You are now traversing a Freeform Zone. Narrative coherence is conditional. Party cohesion required to maintain continuity. Projected risk: 7.3 stars out of existential 10.]
Their Systems blinked online—each unique. And different. Even their stats, skills, and classes. But they used to this kind of bizarre behavior. It felt like their story is written by some no-brainer author that forget everything they wrote.
Which is true, eventually.
They only have one hope, that nothing else will changes until the next patch notes. Or maybe next Arc. They'll probably spew some syntax errors and stupid semicolons if this keeps happening every chapters.
[RAFAEL | SYSTEM: 'MO']
[Class: Reluctant Hero]
[Stats: Wit 9 | Grit 7 | Luck (Glitched) | Genre Alignment: Cynical Fantasy]
[Status Effect: Protagonist Fatigue - Mild]
MO: "Please stop nearly dying in symbolic metaphors. I'm almost out of backup snark."
[BRYN | SYSTEM: 'VIGILUX']
[Class: Iron Vanguard]
[Stats: Resolve 10 | Strength 8 | Trust 4]
[Status Effect: Emotional Armor - Cracked but functional]
VIGILUX: "Protect the spine of the story. Even if it fractures."
[JUNO | SYSTEM: 'ORACLELINE']
[Class: Temporal Vanguard]
[Stats: Foresight 9 | Burden 6 | Memory 11]
[Status Effect: Flashback Overload - Latent]
ORACLELINE: "Probability matrix realigned. You are near something important. Or irreversible."
[LIRA | SYSTEM: 'ECHOFRAME']
[Class: Ghostwalker]
[Stats: Stealth 8 | Empathy 7 | Guilt (Cumulative)]
[Status Effect: Displacement Drift - Stable]
ECHOFRAME: "Past versions of you are watching. They're not judging. Yet."
[OREN | SYSTEM: 'LEDGER']
[Class: Revisionist]
[Stats: Lore 10 | Paradox 8 | Regret 5]
[Status Effect: Syntax Echo - Passive]
LEDGER: "Annotated anomalies approaching. Highlight and resolve with care."
[MIRA | SYSTEM: 'KAIROSCORE']
[Class: Rogue Catalyst]
[Stats: Instinct 9 | Rage 6 | Loyalty 7]
[Status Effect: Simmering Narrative Tension - Controlled]
KAIROSCORE: "You're either the turning point or the detour. Decide fast."
She blinked several time, "well. That was weird actually. But fuck it," then turned to her party. "Anyway. Are we just following this thing indefinitely?" Mira asked, arms crossed.
"Yes," Rafael said, "and if it leads us into a metaphor about destiny, I am suing fate."
"Too late," Lira muttered. "Fate's been outsourced to irony since Loop nine."
Bryn walked behind them, scanning the glyphs left in the duck's wake. She tapped one with her toe. The symbol pulsed, then flickered out.
"They're not permanent," she said. "We're on borrowed cohesion."
"So just like the rest of our lives," Oren added, flipping open his ledger. "There's a footnote here about this terrain—'Only progress when bound by truth or contradiction.'"
"Cryptic much?" Mira muttered.
"No, just literary," Juno said, then frowned. "But it means we need to speak. Not just follow."
A silence fell.
They had reunited. They had a vague purpose. But that didn't mean they had healed.
"I never stopped searching," Juno said, quietly, and suddenly, her voice almost lost in the shifting wind. "Even when the world rebooted around me. Even when I forgot your names. I remembered the feeling. The gap where you used to be."
Lira looked over at her, expression unreadable. Then nodded.
"Well, you know what, Juno. I'm flattered actually. But of course, like what every sane being would react, I blamed everyone," Oren said. "Especially Rafael. Especially myself."
"Good," Rafael said. "At least we have that in common."
They laughed. Not all of them. Not fully. But enough to keep walking.
The duck's glyphs grew brighter.
The fog thickened.
[SYSTEM HINT: Narrative checkpoint ahead. Choose wisely. Falsity collapses the bridge.]
***
They came to the first obstruction.
It wasn't physical. It was narrative.
A chasm opened in the meta-structure, a canyon of contradictions. The other side shimmered with glimpses of the original ending: forgotten arcs, first drafts of emotions, unspoken promises. Broken character sheets floated in the air like dead leaves.
Rafael stepped forward.
The duck quacked.
"You're not jumping it," Bryn warned.
"No," Rafael said. "I'm declaring it."
He raised his voice.
"I never wanted to be the protagonist. I just wanted to survive. But I do want to end this. Properly. Not with a System-written epilogue, not with some divine patchwork. I want our ending."
The words lingered.
The bridge formed.
Not stone, not code—narrative. Pure declaration solidified beneath their feet.
Mira blinked. "That… actually worked."
"Only one way to see how far it goes," Juno said.
They stepped onto the path.
The duck waddled forward again.
And the fog of half-written truths parted just enough to show the next breadcrumb.
They passed old echoes: discarded dialogue, deleted scenes, moments from versions of themselves that no longer existed. Oren reached toward a floating sentence fragment.
["And then he kissed her like he remembered how they died."]
—but it disintegrated before he could touch it. "Blergh... Romance. Definitely not my genre."
Juno slowed. "Define genre."
And here come Rafael. "Define romance."
Oren chuckled. "A thing that would make you want to jerk off within the first two chapters. Well, without orgasm, maybe. But still..."
Rafael grinned. As well as Juno.
He stared his two suspicious ally for five solid seconds. "Really, guys?" Oren said frustratedly. "Don't tell me you two have some intercourse behind our back."
"Well, that sounds like progress. But anyway guys, there's something ahead," Bryn said suddenly.
Sure enough, another System notification bloomed into view, jittering at the edges.
[INCOMING INTERRUPTION: Narrative Boss Encounter Imminent.]
[Title: THE EDITOR.]
[Level: Unstable. Genre: Satirical Horror. Abilities: Redaction, Authorial Voice, Passive-Aggressive Footnotes.]
[Advice: Strengthen thematic alignment. Consider hugging your regrets.]
[MO: You are not prepared.]
[ORACLELINE: Suggesting evasive maneuvers. Denial will not be sufficient.]
[KAIROSCORE: If you die dramatically, at least make it quotable.]
Juno paled slightly. "The Editor? They assigned me to one in Loop 7 I guess. They erased my confidence and a dog I never had."
"Perfect," Rafael muttered. "Just what we needed."
Bryn unslung her weapon. "What happened to The Unmother that we need to face before?"
"I don't know," Rafael shrugged as he prepared his Source-Thread at his wrist. "Maybe edited out."
"We move forward anyway," Mira muttered.
They gathered tighter.
As they crossed the final glyph-bridge into the heart of the Expanse, the fog congealed into jagged black lines, text cut too sharply. Ahead, the silhouette of a red-inked humanoid towered.
The Editor was waiting.
And so was the truth.
Maybe.
Probably.
***