"What are you looking at?"

Davi quietly craned his neck, and he stared up at the figure that was before him. "Are you real?" He asked. He ignored the biting cold, he ignored the pain in his chest, and he ignored the fact that this couldn't possibly be real.

Fire spewed forth, going above Davi's head as his dull purple eyes processed what he was seeing. "What do you think?"

"I don't think it's real." Davi hummed.

"And why's that?"

"I don't feel like killing you right now," Davi said simply. "In fact, I don't feel like doing anything right now. Usually when I 'die,' or at least come close to it, I appear back in that vault, but yet here I am, watching a familiar sight. It makes me wonder. Did I seriously die this time?"

He stood in an endless field of cold. All around him, snow and ice stretched out. A place where the concept of time no longer mattered. It was like he was standing upon a blank page in a novel. One that had no quill taken to it. One that was forgotten by the author.

In the narrative, he was dead. His story had come to an end. But what happens when a character dies? When their words stop being written and no more pages with them on it will be turned. Davi imagined that those kinds of people would wind up in a place like this—an endless void of white.

A blizzard of nothingness.

All that remained in this place was himself, and of course, the other forgotten being. The one that remained here with him. The one who started his story would also naturally cease to be if his tale came to an end.

As big as a mountain, with four legs, a tail, wings, and a stretched-out neck, covered in red scales, it was, of course, a dragon. His dragon. The Great Dragon of Roads.

The beast had its body curled up, two massive arms crossed out in front of it, and its neck rested on its hands. Its eyes were closed, and small sprouts of fire would sometimes pour out of its nose, going nowhere in the empty snowy void. It looked almost like it was sleeping, yet it still spoke, and sometimes its tail would crash down into the field.

"Why do you assume what you see before you is fake?" The dragon asked, after a moment, its voice causing a deep, thundering boom that shook nothing.

"I told you my answer." Davi pointed out.

"Was that the correct answer, though? You think that because of how you feel now, this current you is experiencing something fake because the real you felt differently, but is that actually the case? Who is to say those emotions are real, or even that other you? Couldn't they perhaps be a fake, and you are the real one?"

Davi raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but that doesn't sound right either. Especially when this scene surrounds me." He looked around, and it reminded him of how it all began.

This was just like the start of the adventure, when he first walked through an endless blizzard carrying his brother on his back, only this time he didn't have his brother, and the dragon wasn't here to hurt him. Instead, he was an adult, one who had just had his heart ripped out and had just died in the arms of Olivia.

His friend.

Davi sighed. Was this actually where he ended up when he died? He always assumed it would be back in the vault. Somehow, this seemed more cruel. An endless void with only him and the creature he should hate. Davi shook his head, and he began to walk. The ice and snow didn't even crunch under his foot. It was hard to say whether it was actually real or just something his brain was creating to make sense of the blank page he was on.

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"Where are you going?" The dragon asked, its eyes still closed.

"No clue. Somewhere, I'm sure."

"There is nowhere to go."

"How do you know?"

"Because you know. This dream is never-ending."

Davi stopped, and he frowned. He turned to stare back at the dragon. "Dream? Oh. That makes sense. I'm dreaming, huh." He glanced down at his hand. "I guess even though I'm dead, life hasn't fully left my brain. This is like a limbo dream or something. The last thoughts I'm having before I die. Haru, that's kind of depressing."

"If you don't want to die, then just leave." The dragon grunted.

Davi made a face. "Okay? And how do I do that? Just walk? Will a door appear or something?"

"No, there is nothing here."

"So?"

"We are on the blank page. A realm of nothingness. Just make something, just as you made me."

"I made you?"

"I'm not actually the one you seek, you know this. That would be impossible." The dragon let out another loud snort. "In here we exist, but nothing else does. It is a blank page. So, if you want to leave, if you want to escape, then all you need to do is add something to the blank page."

"And how do I do that?"

"How does a quill leave its proof on the page?" The dragon's eyes finally opened up, and it began to outstretch its hand to Davi, pointing a claw at him. "It leaves a trail of ink. Give me your hand."

Usually, he'd never follow through on such a command from this creature, but this was a dream, and the rules of normalcy didn't exist here. Davi outstretched his hand, and on instinct, he ran his palm along the edge of the claw, slicing the flesh open.

To his shock, it wasn't blood that poured from his wound. It was ink. Black and spotty. It dripped onto the ground, leaving its mark and wiping away the white.

"Ink controls the page, not the other way around." The dragon explained. "When a story is told, it is born from the ink that forms its world on that blank paper. When a story has an end that one does not like, all they have to do is wipe it away with more ink. Destroy the words, destroy the nothingness, and in its place, tell a brand new story. Take root, leave your mark, and make the story you want."

The ink kept coming. Davi held his hand out, and it flowed and flowed, beginning to bubble and twist as the liquid shaped itself. When it was all said and done, something else remained in the white void. A black door, forged of ink.

Davi stepped toward the door and then stopped. "Why did you tell me how to escape?" He glanced back at the dragon.

The dragon was back to its sleeping position. "I didn't. You did."

A dream. A version of him. A subconscious part. One who can employ the flawed logic of this world. Maybe this wasn't real, or perhaps it was.

It didn't matter.

Davi nodded, then turned back to the door and reached out, using the ink to create a handle that he turned. He opened the door and was about to step through but stopped. "No. It should matter." He turned to look back at the dragon. "All of this—I don't want it to be a meaningless dream. That wouldn't seem right. There should be meaning."

The dragon's eyes opened, and they looked back at him. Bright and red, meeting his purple. That was also how he knew this wasn't his dragon. After all, his dragon had blue eyes. Blue like his mother's, and blue like his. "It does have meaning. The meaning that you want."

"The meaning I want?"

"Yes. It's your story after all."

"My story?" Davi blinked and he stared into those red eyes. Then, he stared into blue eyes.

The dragon's eyes were now blue...

And then, the dragon's eyes exploded. Blood flowed out, black and twisted, staining the world, and a true beast screamed in fury and rage as a hand stabbed out of the dead dragon's skull. Davi stared in shock at a pure white figure, one that was screeching and deadlier than death, that tried to reach for him, shadowy hands jutting out of it.

He was so shocked and caught off guard that he slipped and fell back, right through the door.

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, in the arms of Olivia Lot, as she cried over him.

"D-Davi?" Olivia asked slowly, still trying to process everything. His hand raised up weakly, and she took it in hers, squeezing it. "Davi!"

Davi stared up at her blankly, trying to process everything. His body ached, and he still felt like he was about to die. He couldn't meet her eyes, though. His blue ones instead stared up at the roof above her.

"I saw it…" His voice croaked out, barely above a whisper, and a slightly jagged smile crossed his face. "It was only for a moment, but I did." His eyes felt heavy, and his breathing grew shallow. "I. Think. I. Get. It."

And then his eyes shut once more. He held a knowing smile on his lips, though. The second step of the adventure was about to begin.

He was pretty sure he had just seen his mom. Or at least, the thing that used to be his mom.

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