Right after Lea and Dwyl had made up, William was summoned to his father's office. He wondered what this was about. Was it about Lea? Again? He thought he had convinced the president to let her stay.
Dwyl walked into the office, and this time Wayne Wright was by himself. He was sitting behind his desk, carefully examining some documents.
"Why am I here?" Dwyl asked annoyed, letting himself slump into the chair in front of his dads desk.
The president didn't look up. He kept reading, paying no attention to William's existence.
"Dad."
Wayne finished reading his sentence, and slowly looked up to his son. "Sit up straight," he commanded, seeing William slouching. He needed his son to know he was in serious trouble.
Dwyl raised an eyebrow. The president was acting really strange.
"Now." The president said, seeing William didn't do what he asked.
"Yeah, yeah. No need to fuss." Dwyl sat up straight.
"Speak properly."
"What is your problem?"
Wayne crossed his arms and leaned forward on his desk. "I will be the one asking the questions. You answer."
"Ask me one, then. I can't read your mind." Dwyl really couldn't. Yes, he could read Lea's mind, but that was only because she was his host. He could read basic information of world inhabitants that weren't in the main plot, but that wasn't much. And for world inhabitant's that were part of the main plot, like the president in front of him, well, he only had information that was provided by the plot. Systems weren't omnipotent.
"How do you know that woman you brought back with you?"
"I have already answered that question," Dwyl answered slightly confused.
"You gave me a lie, William. I want the truth."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I have no reason to lie to you."
The president opened his drawer reserved for William, and took out a dossier. He opened it to a certain page. "If that is true, you can give me a reasonable explanation for this, right?"
Dwyl leaned forward and glanced at the paper. "What am looking at?"
"Your search history from the past week. You have not once opened a list of civilians."
Dwyl cursed inside his head. Dammit. He hadn't thought the president would check his story so thoroughly. This was slightly problematic.
"So?" he asked pretending not to understand what his dad was getting at.
"How do you really know this Kailey King?"
Dwyl's head was working overtime. What kind of a believable excuse can he come up with? "I just walked into a random building, and pushed the doorbell of a random apartment."
"My report says you said her name before she could even utter a word."
"The name was written on the door."
"That's nonsense. Nobody writes their full name on their door here. Maybe they do that sort of thing in one of our neighboring countries, but not here. Last name only. You said her complete name."
"Why don't you tell me how I know her then? It seems you got it completely figured out." Dwyl said starting to panic. His host and him could do whatever he wanted, but he needed to stay consistent. If there was any plothole in the plot, the world needed to be rewritten or deleted. It wasn't that he would get in trouble with the System and Author community, because like he had previously said, there was only one rule he couldn't break, so that wasn't the problem. The problem was Writer would not forgive him. It was one thing to notice a plothole that was already there, but to create one? Writer would kill him. If it was Lea's fault, then maybe he would consider forgiveness. But this was mostly Dwyl's fault.
"I wouldn't ask you, if I knew."
Dwyl shrugged. "Well, I already gave you my story. Take it or leave it. You're not going to get anything else."
President Wright rubbed his temples. This was not what he wanted to hear. "You really have nothing left to say?"
"You're an asshole for going through my search history."
Wayne glared at his son. "That's not how you should talk to your president, or your dad."
"What do I care? It's not like you believe a word I say."
"You're in so much trouble."
"For what?" Dwyl said defensively. "For someone tampering with my search history? I swear I was telling the truth."
"Son, which story am I meant to believe? You going through a list of citizens, or you walking into a random building?"
"The first one."
"Nobody tampered with your search history. Other elites wouldn't be interested in doing something so silly, and criminals should not exist. Do you perhaps know a criminal?"
Dwyl eyed his father suspiciously. "Of course not."
"Oh? That's strange. I have reason to believe otherwise."
Dwyl swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The president sighed. "If you tell me everything you know, we might be able to negotiate your punishment."
"Father, I seriously have no idea what you're saying."
Wayne slammed his desk. "Tell the truth! I demand it. This is serious business, William. If you don't fess up, our country, our reign could be in danger! It is your duty to protect the country from all those vile criminals. Do you want criminality to run lose? For there to be anarchy? That's what will happen if we don't exterminate those creatures."
Dwyl stayed quiet. For the real William this would've caused quite a dilemma. He fancied Mason, and didn't want him to die, but on the other hand he was really faithful to his father, and although he would always do it with grumbling, if his father really wanted something he would obey. In the end the original William would've probably told his dad everything and given up his little crush.
Luckily Dwyl wasn't completely William, and so his duty and love to this country and this body's dad was not comparable to his love and duty for Writer, or Mason. If Dwyl confessed to the president, Mason would probably die, the revolution would be nipped in the bud and as a consequence the plot would be completely messed up. None of the above, would please Writer. Dwyl wanted to please Writer.
"I know what my duty is," Dwyl said. "And I can say with absolute certainty that I am not neglecting it."
The president pressed the play button on his computer, showing William the footage of him admitting to have known Mason was a genetic anomaly.
"How long have you known?"
Dwyl was considering his options. The president knew too much. He knew about Mason, and the revolution was still five years away. He couldn't let the president ruin the plot.
"Answer me, William! How long have you known?"
Dwyl looked around on the desk, until his eyes found what he needed. He stood up from the chair.
"Sit back down." Wayne said without an ounce of patience in his voice.
Dwyl took the heavy paperweight and let it go from his right hand to his left, and back.
"Stop playing, sit down, and answer my questions."
Dwyl ignored the old man, and clenched his right hand around the object.
"William!" The president leaned forward on his desk and grabbed his son by the collar. "How long have you known?"
Dwyl stared the man straight in his eyes and swung. The stone paperweight clashed against the presidents head with a sickening thump.
Dwyl had swung precisely and with just the right amount of power. The president, Wayne Wright, was dead.