John and Prota managed to climb out of the pit. John had reluctantly put Sofya's body in his pocket dimension. Prota didn't want to leave it here, but they didn't know what to do with it. John had assumed something like that wouldn't work, but to his surprise, it did.

There was now a corpse in his pocket dimension. Great.

Emerging from the strange place they'd been in, they found themselves on a small, deserted island. It wasn't that much bigger than the room. By standing at the edge of the sea, you could see the entire place.

John sighed, pulling off his scarf and hoodie, tossing them to the wind, then ripped off the bottom of his pants and put his legs in the water. Despite the season being winter on Scholaris, the water here was surprisingly warm.

"What a school life…"

He pulled out a bottle of soda and took a long sip. He wanted to think about a lot of things.

His predictions about the school ending early had come true. Not in the way he thought they would, but in the end, the point remained:

This [Story] was coming to a close.

What was going to come next? Where would they go? Who would they meet? So many questions. So many possible answers.

Yet, despite all that, he couldn't manage to pull his mind from that sweet dream he'd experienced. A dream that, to him, was no more fake than the world he was currently living in. Just an hour ago, he would've said he wanted to go back. He wouldn't have minded living in that world for another hundred years. After all, what was time to someone like him? Someone who could remember and forget memories on a whim, someone who could live the same day billions of times.

But now… something had changed. Until this moment, he'd only ever had one goal.

Find his memories.

It wasn't something he desperately wanted. Finding his memories had always been something to keep him going, something to keep him preoccupied. He knew that without something to work toward, he would shrivel up and lose his mind, reduced to a husk of a man.

But it wasn't something he wanted. Finding his memories didn't give him satisfaction. They didn't fill him with joy.

They were just one step closer to… to what? This goal hadn't even been set by him. It was something the [Author] had suggested. Something Zero had told him to do.

Now, though, a new thought was worming its way into his mind. It was a dangerous thought, one he had yet to fully embrace, but the seed had been planted.

The [Story] had warped to his will. The [Plot] the [Author] had planned out was gone, and in its place was the reality John had created. If he could do that, then… maybe, just maybe, he could go back. He didn't care if they were fake. He didn't care if they were 'fictional.'

He missed them.

John's eyes went wide as something ached in his heart. He'd never realized that. He'd never admitted it. But he missed [Characters]—people who technically didn't exist.

"John?" Prota said quietly.

Without a word, she moved closer to him, leaning her head against his chest. He moved his arm and pulled her in, hugging her tight.

"It's… I don't know. I don't know where we go from here."

He sighed, closing his eyes.

"But that doesn't matter. Did we ever know what we were gonna do next?"

Prota stared at him.

"Ah. That's right. I had planned this out…"

Suddenly, he threw his head back, laughing. His voice reached out over the waves, through the air, reaching out to the heavens.

This was really it. He didn't know what to do anymore.

He'd had a plan up to here. They were supposed to be adventurers. They'd done that. They were supposed to be students. They'd done that.

But they'd done so much more.

John had discovered the impact [Deus Ex Machina] had on this world. What it had done to the [Plot], what it had done to [Characters] who were never supposed to attain that much power. He'd never meant to be one to stand out. He didn't want to get involved.

But here he was, standing in the center of everything. One could say he was as impactful as Destiny. Perhaps not as strong. Perhaps not as influential. After all, he was only looked up to by a few, and even then, he wasn't trusted. He was simply relied upon for his unique knowledge of this strange energy that nobody else could deal with.

That was still infinitely more than he'd expected to have.

He, who was used to standing above it all. He, who believed everybody was beneath him. He, who believed this world was nothing but a sandbox with sandcastles, ready to be torn down at any minute.

He now saw it for something more than that.

And, just in time, the world was open for the taking. There was no path they had to follow. No plan they had to take. Where they went next would be decided by… by what?

"What do you want to do, Prota?" John said, calming down.

He was back to normal now. That simple smile on his face. That empty look in his eyes. But, at the same time, something was different. As he stood up, there was a bit more purpose to his step. A bit more intentionality in his actions. He seemed more alert, more interested.

"Nn… let's go back."

John nodded. "Let's go…"

His voice trailed off.

"Actually. You go back first."

Prota looked up at him in confusion. What was he planning?

"I'm not going to do anything. I just wanna head back down there. Use the device, tell Leora to come pick me up in an hour. I just want some time alone."

Prota nodded, although she was still a little suspicious. It wasn't like John to switch up so suddenly, and she was worried that he'd do something drastic. Then again… no. He wouldn't do something like that. John was a lot of things, but suicidal wasn't one of them.

"Ok. Stay safe," she said.

John used the path they'd taken to get up to return back into the pit. He looked up as a flash of light announced Leora's arrival, and another flash of light indicated that they'd left. He sighed. He wasn't looking forward to explaining everything, but it was necessary.

The cell, surprisingly, was still there. The lantern was still lit. John closed his eyes, and he could still hear Sofya's voice. Less than an hour ago, they'd been talking about things like his powers and the multiverse.

And now she was gone. Just like that.

"Hey," Zero said, looking around. "You wanted to talk, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this is as good a place to do it as any," Zero nodded, sitting in the chair Sofya had used. "Go on. Get back in the cell."

"Wha- what the fuck?" John frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. I thought it would be funny."

"That's not- no! Why would I go back in the cell?"

Zero laughed. "Fair enough. So. What's up?"

John slumped down, leaning against one of the iron bars. He hesitated for a moment, trying to gather the words that would express what he felt. What was he feeling? Pain? Exhilaration? Hope? Despair? It'd been so long since he felt like this that he wasn't sure how to identify it.

In the end, he just said what came to mind first.

"...Zero. Why am I here?"

"I told you. You're-"

"Fine. Don't tell me. Just let me ask something else, ok?" John said, adjusting his sitting position.

"Shoot."

"What… what am I? How does my existence work? Don't answer that," John warned, seeing Zero's expression. "You're just gonna tell me you can't tell me. I already know that. Just let me get it out, ok?"

Zero was stunned for a moment, but after a bit of thought, he closed his eyes and smiled. John ignored this and continued to ramble on.

"Look. You told me I'm part [Writer], part [Reader], and part [Character]. The [Writer] and [Reader] parts come from the fact that I was a real person, and the [Character] aspect comes from the fact that I'm in this world, but how does that work? Zero, if I was real, I wouldn't be here. Real people don't turn into fictional characters. That's not how reality works. So then… what am I?"

John looked down, staring at his hands.

"Was I even real in the first place? Or are my memories just another plot device? Just something to push a story? Am I just another [Character], Zero?"

Zero sighed, standing up and stretching. "You were real, John. But right now, you're a [Character]. You're both. I can tell you that much."

"What? But how does that-"

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"Think of this."

The room went quiet as John waited for Zero to speak. The soul seemed to be thinking about something, and that meant Zero was genuinely trying to help. If he didn't particularly care about this, he would've just spoken and let censoring take over. With this, he was truly trying to give an answer John would be able to hear.

"Who are you? What is the definition of "John?" We had this talk before, but you're starting to ask some more interesting questions. If there's a multiverse, and multiple versions of a [Character] exist, are they all the same [Character], or are they all different people? What defines a being?"

John paused, letting those words churn in his head.

"...am I a self-insert?" John shuddered. "Hold on, no, I can't be-"

"I won't say you're not," Zero said with a smile. "But I won't say that you are. People change, you know. Your identity isn't the same as it once was. Perhaps… perhaps you would have been a self-insert at one point. The idea of an [Author] placing themselves in a story is common. At one point, you were, quite literally, just that."

"At one point?"

"Well, yes. Before you lost your memories. As someone from reality… isn't that just a self-insert? The [Author] currently governing this world might not be the same as you, but you are still someone's self-insert. Well, then, I guess that's just an insert… or, somethingelse? I don't know the terminology. Still, my point stands. Right?"

John just felt a shiver of disgust run down his spine.

"I… I guess. As long as that's not what I am right now… but then, why am I here? Zero, if I was a [Writer] who just threw himself into a poorly made [Story] for fun-"

"Does it matter? Does it change what you're doing right now? I already told you, the answers are all in your memories. How you turned into a [Character], how you ended up in your last world, how you wound up here… it's all there. You just have to get to the end."

"Does it end, Zero?"

"...yeah. I can tell you that much. It does end."

"What, a billion years later or something?"

"Counting [Resets]?" Zero laughed. "If we're counting [Resets], you've already been alive for billions of years. Technically speaking, though… no. The journey won't take more than a few centuries in the perspective of someone who doesn't go through [Resets]."

John let out a sigh. "That's good to know."

"Anything else?"

"...actually, no," John said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He pulled a new set of clothes out from his pocket dimension, changing into them before heading back up. He took a deep breath of air as he stared out across the ocean, his eyes glazing over.

He didn't feel good about this. But at the same time, he no longer felt helpless. He no longer felt like a puppet on a string.

He was just another random dude walking around without direction. This world being fake didn't mean anything. It didn't change what he'd have to do. It didn't change what he wanted. It just meant that it'd be a little harder to reach the goal he wished to reach.

"Leora is gonna get here in about… say, fifty minutes," Zero said, summoning the game system in John's system. "Wanna hop on?"

"You're playing?"

"It's built into the system. Of course I can play."

A game console formed before John as Zero sat next to him, a controller appearing in his hands.

"Imma beat your ass."

John snorted. "You wish."

"I will."

"Nuh uh."

"L ragebait."

"Ragebait? Hey, listen here-"

~~~

Upon teleporting back, there were things to do. Destiny was sent to get the nurses, who quickly brought the students to the school's hospital. Thankfully, it seemed there were no complications with them, and they'd likely wake up soon.

With all that out of the way, Leora looked at Prota for a few seconds before sighing.

"You were very brave, child. I would ask you how you did it, but… it is not my place to do so. You have suffered tremendous losses. At such a young age… go. Be with your friends."

Prota nodded, but she didn't leave just yet. Something on the faces of the Mystics led her to believe there was still another question they wanted to ask.

"If you are staying… Prota," Lupin said gruffily. "You don't… you don't know what John knows, do you?"

She shook her head. She hated to disappoint them, but she didn't want to know what John knew, let alone share any of it with others. Her experiences in that illusory world had taught her something very important.

She understood why John was so adamant about keeping things from others. Why he'd been so hesitant to teach her what a [Story] was. When he'd called her real… that was the highest honour one could receive from him.

And now that she understood the world he lived in, she wanted to pull him out. She wanted to destroy that concept of "fiction" and keep him safe. But something like that would never be possible. To deny him that knowledge would be to destroy who he was.

So the most she could do was stay by his side and ease the pain as much as possible. All she could do was be herself. Something Destiny had told her came to mind.

If she were in pain, it wouldn't do John any good. When John had asked for a protector, he'd likely been playing around, but Prota understood now. There was something to protect.

That something was her.

It was egotistical to think, perhaps, but what John needed most was someone to be with. Someone to care for, as well as someone to care for him. And if she broke, he would lose the one person he'd developed a bond with, the one person he could call real.

"You did well, Prota," Leora smiled. "Very well. It is a shame that we have to hide this, but… know that you have impressed both me and Lupin. You weren't just impressive as a mortal. You simply astounded us by the feats you have produced. Be proud of yourself."

Joy rose in Prota's heart. She no longer needed to doubt herself. She'd grown.

She could say she was strong.

With that settled, Prota went to visit Lilith. However, she quickly realized that her friend was probably still asleep.

"They're awake," a nurse said, seeing her hesitant look. "You can go in."

Heart pounding, Prota approached. Ryan was there, too, meaning she'd be able to see them at the same time.

What would she say, though? How was she supposed to explain the situation? Would they still see her as friends?

With a hesitant heart, she pushed the door open.

"Prota!" Lilith exclaimed. "Thanks for visiting. I had the strangest dream, I swear. We were kidnapped by the headmaster, and then you came to save us, and then-"

"Lilith!" Ryan snapped, but then softened. "Sorry, it's just… it's a little strange to say the headmaster kidnapped us, don't you think?"

"No, no. I… I'm sorry, Ryan. I think… I think we just need to talk things out," Lilith smiled.

They were so busy talking to each other that they missed Prota's look of shock. They didn't remember what had happened? They'd been asleep this entire time?

"I'm going to tell her, Ryan," she heard Lilith say.

"...fine."

"Really? You're ok with it?"

"I just… I realized something," Ryan said quietly. "We can disappear, just like that. And Prota is a good friend. I don't think she'll mess anything up."

Lilith grinned, turning to Prota. "Prota! So… the thing is, Ryan and I are actually nobles!"

Prota sat, pretending to be shocked as Lilith explained their family's circumstances. The Rose household was a small household, but the land they ruled over was quite satisfied under their control. Their father, the head, was a kind man who believed all people were equal, regardless of status. He believed everybody deserved to smile, to live and be free.

"That's why… that's why that Draco guy pissed me off so much," Lilith grumbled. "He doesn't get it! What it's like to have friends, to have fun! He's just like, 'oh, I'm mister noble and I'm super important!' Seriously…"

Lilith continued to explain how she'd grown up roaming the streets, meeting the people and learning how her father ruled. However, one day, her father fell ill. Very ill. Nobody knew what happened. Bedridden, the Wynton household sent a vassal to take over, as their territory was near that of the Wynton's.

Things started going wrong from there. Their land started to crumble apart. The people began to complain. The overall satisfaction level plummeted, and people began to question where their Earl was. However, they couldn't reveal that he was weak. Too many things might happen. Conspirators might try and assassinate him. A different noble might try to strongarm their way into things and take over the territory.

"That's why we couldn't tell you," Lilith apologized. "We had to keep it secret…"

"Um…" Prota looked up, her face a little red with embarrassment. "I knew."

The Rose siblings just stared at her.

"What?!"

"Draco… Draco told me," Prota explained sheepishly. "Um… sorry?"

Lilith looked at Ryan for a second. That second felt like forever to Prota, but to her relief, Lilith burst out laughing.

"See? She was fine! She knew! And she didn't tell anybody! I told you we should've told her!" Lilith exclaimed, shaking her brother back and forth.

"Alright, alright, I get it!" Ryan yelled, trying to protect himself. "Jeez, I'm sorry, ok?"

"She didn't tell anybody! Even us!"

As the noise died down, the three began to talk. About school, Magecraft, casting, their friends… everything. The Rose twins didn't ask Prota why Draco had told her such a thing. There was no need to.

As they talked, though, Prota couldn't help but realize that John had protected this. The words Zero had said rang in her ears.

Lilith wasn't meant to be here right now.

To everyone's surprise, out of nowhere, Prota got up and hugged Lilith. It was just a quick hug. A touch, a brief gesture, but it was an amazing gesture from Prota, who always shied away despite claiming to be friends.

"P-Prota," Lilith said, tears welling up in her eyes. "Um… thanks?"

"...we are friends," Prota nodded.

Her face remained unchanging, but there was joy in her eyes. A joy that wouldn't fade for the rest of the day.

~~~

"You did that," Zero whispered as John stood outside the Rose twins' room. "I mean, I know you weren't that close to them. But… you did that."

"Tell me a little more," John said quietly, walking away.

The Mystics realized John was tired. He'd been through a lot. John had promised to talk to them tomorrow, then went to look for Destiny. He'd asked him to show up to tomorrow's meeting as well, and the hero had agreed.

After that, John went to look for Prota, but realized she deserved a little privacy. However, he couldn't help but peek in a little, and the scene that greeted his eyes was more than just a little heartwarming.

"So… Lilith was supposed to die in Prota's arms," Zero explained. "She was gonna tell Prota her whole backstory, then say something like 'I'm glad we were friends.' Ryan would've been devastated, obviously, but Prota even more so. She would've pleaded with you to revive Lilith, but you… Well, you wouldn't have been able to do so. That's it. Just some standard trauma."

"Some standard trauma, huh…" John couldn't help but smile.

It was disgusting, but that was the world he lived in. Knowing he'd diverted that tragic path… it made things a little more worth it.

"The school's gonna close soon, huh?" John muttered as he wandered the halls.

This had been a home of sorts for the past two and a half years. Almost the same amount of time he'd spent in Vulcan and the Town of Beginnings. What would come next? What was waiting for them?

Interestingly, a feeling of anticipation rose in his heart. He wanted to see what he would do next. He wanted to see what he was capable of.

"Yeah. It sure is," Zero said. "You gonna miss it?"

"School? No," John snorted. "This whole atmosphere… maybe. Just a little."

"Come on, don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying!"

"Liar says what?"

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Zero watched as his body walked back to his room with a smile.

Tomorrow would be the start of a whole new adventure. John wasn't exactly looking forward to it. The Mystics would surely tell him something, a clue as to where he was supposed to go next. But for now…

"Yeah. We always were the type to like happy endings. Nothing wrong with a little joy. Right?"

It was fine to stay in the present.

~~~

[Well done.

The benchmark has been reached. The end of your plan has arrived. The [Story] as you knew it will now take a sudden shift. Are you prepared for what comes next? Are you ready for the challenges that lie ahead?

You are not.

Of course you aren't. That is the point. What good is an [Author] who writes a [Story] in which its [Characters] trot through every adversary with ease?

That is not the purpose of this world.

But you understand it now. You understand the other side of struggle. Beyond every cloud, there is a silver lining. Behind the curtain of the storm lies a shining sun, waiting to cast its light upon the world once more.

But somehow.

Somehow, you have reached up, beyond the clouds, into space, and taken a piece of the sun for yourself. You have brought light into the storm and pierced through the darkness.

How peculiar.

What will you do now? Will you manage to hold onto that warmth? For a human to hold a piece of the sun, they must be prepared to sacrifice themselves. One cannot hold a star without burning. There can be no paradise without pain.

But then again, you were never meant to reach the sun. You were never meant to bring light into the storm.

So perhaps you will exceed expectations once more. Perhaps you will prove the world wrong.

Whatever path you take, they will be waiting.

The hero.

The fox.

The dwarf.

The blacksmith, the alchemist, the painter, the healer.

They march down the path carved out for them. It is a good path. They will live happy lives if they follow it until the end.

But somewhere down the line, there is one last pitfall. One last trap.

But you will not be the one to watch out for it. That will be the light you carry beside you. Ensure that the light is not extinguished. For your path will be dark. And without your light, you will be stumbling, blind to the hazards that block your way.

Surely you have realized it by now.

This is no longer their story.

It is their world. Their journey. Their sacrifice.

But it is not their [Story].

The people around you are no longer mere puppets. The setting you live in is no longer a stage.

You have saved those who were meant to die. You have spared lives meant to be forsaken. You brought brightness to a world that was meant to be dark. And few know of your sacrifice. Of what such an action has cost you.

So for now, smile.

But.

Now, destiny is more than just the [Plot] that guides you. Now, the [Characters] are more than the words that bind them to a page. For us, you may be nothing but imaginary.

But to you, it is all very real.

My [Writer]. My [Reader]. My [Character].

My [Anomaly].

What comes next? That is, of course, up to you. That is, of course, up to them.

But for your sake, as well as mine, I hope you choose well.

What will you do next?

The [Story] carries on.

The end is yet to come.]

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