A lot of time passed by. At least it passed by in this place. As Kai assured, in the world of main story, time does not move now. The very first Clain did not talk about the structure of reality anymore, although it was obvious that he knew way more than what he already explained to Oliver. Oliver has already lost track of time due to constant training. However, results were right here. Not only did he learn to wield a sword better, and such, could use weapons outside of usual telekinesis shooting, but he was also able to gain control over his Emotional Turbulence – Clain could activate and deactivate it as he wanted, while controlling himself in that state. Oliver didn't sleep, eat or drink. Of course, considering that there is no metabolism in his body, because he is a soul attached to a corpse, he does not need it, but even if he were a normal human, there was no need for such needs in Kai's pocket dimension.
–Well, I think you're almost ready to carry out the plan... we just need to do the one last training session, – said Kai, looking at Oliver without coldness in his eyes for the first time.
–What, another one?
–Well, it will be completely different. Before this, we increased your combat skills, and now it's time to learn how to work with Narrative.
–Narrative?
–Yes. Well, you know, story, characters, reality, text... everything you can and cannot imagine is a part of the Narrative. If you want to significantly influence the world, and potentially change the way everything is, you need to be able to change the Narrative... or at least be able not to die from those who are capable of it. Sit down.
Kai sat down on the floor, on this ice, which is colder than absolute zero. Oliver followed his example, but for such a long time he got used to the cold and almost did not feel it, like any other temperature. Now he was immune to any kind of temperature... for better or worse.
–Imagine the world that surrounds you as a text... this can be difficult in the real time, so first imagine the events that happened to you before as such. Your whole journey... think of it as a book. Since you're Clain, you should be able to do this quite easily, most likely right away, on the first try. Most Clains could master it very easily.
"Imagine the events of the past... as a book?" Oliver closed his eyes, not thinking he could do it. He concentrated, lining up text in his mind describing the events of his little adventure. Kayen, Schrodinger, Shabby, Sean's madness, Necronomicon... Clain suddenly opened his eyes.
–I think I did it.
–Great. I told you it would be a piece of cake. Alright, if you had enough practice, you could change reality just by thinking about it... but we don't have much time to train it. Not because of some time limit, but because of my patience. So I'll only teach how to block others' control over the Narrative. Now I'll try something...
Oliver's right finger was torn off. He felt no pain.
–See? I wrote that your finger came off, and this happened. You need to develop immunity to the control of the Narrative. It won't stop likes of Gerda, but will work on this layer. Eventually, you will have to face the Necronomicon... you remember our plan, right?
–Yes I remember. But how can I do this?
By that time, the finger had already grown back.
–Hmm... that's a good question. Even the energy of Hate, which dispels everything that is considered magic in the Narrative, will not save you from someone changing the Narrative itself. As for me, I simply can do this, I didn't study this... hmm... let's do it this way. You will imagine that nothing bad is happening to you. Just consider yourself in a normal state. Ok?
–I will try.
Oliver's finger came off and blood splattered. Oliver himself looked at his hand, with which nothing had happened. The finger was still there.
–How strange... I'm sure my finger was just cut off, but here it is.
–Yes. I wrote that your finger was cut off, but you were able to ignore it. Don't get me wrong, if I wrote that I delivered a strike that was aimed at your finger... then you would have to act on your own, and if you would not avoid it, you would have received damage. But directly changing the world through Narrative is no longer something you fear... as long as you can maintain the "nothing happens to me" mentality. Well... it's time to move out. Let me remind you that in order for everything to succeed, you need to defeat Necronomicon. And you don't need to know more yet. Kayen will most likely stand in your way, because he obviously won't like the fact that the story was not restarted as Gerda wanted...
–You still haven't told me who this Kayen is. Can you please explain to me? I've been wanting to find it out for quite long time.
Kai scratched his chin and sighed. After that, he said, although it was clearly not everything he knew:
–Kayen is a Clain, who was the main character right after me. The writer prewritten him absolute love towards the writer herself, towards Gerda. But then she realized that it was like when 12-year-old girls write in their fanfiction that their favorite K-Pop singer has a crush on them. Therefore, she soon finished his iteration, and, one might say, threw Kayen into the recycle bin... but he was transported to the next iteration and, retaining his memory, as well as his love for Gerda, began to desire "the creation of an ideal story," because, in his opinion, this will certainly draw the attention of his beloved writer to him. By the way, Kayen is his real name, and not a name taken from literature, just like Oliver is yours. Well, that's all. It's time for you to save your iteration.
–Yes. I'll save the world. The next end of the world will not happen.
Oliver jumped up from the floor and Kai stood up. The magician was surprised by Oliver's words, after which he laughed a little.
–You will "save the world"?... do you even know what the so-called "end of the world" is?
Oliver looked at Kai with bewilderment and replied:
–Well... the destruction of the universe or the multiverse, obviously.
Kai laughed again. He leaned back and sat in the air as if there was a chair underneath him. First Klein continued:
–Do you even realize how funny your words sound? You see, even if all the universes ceased to exist, it would not be the end of the world. After all, fiction will remain, people will continue to write stories... and even if they don't, if all the writers stop to write anything at some Narrative layer, someone will continue to do it on a higher layer.
Oliver seems to have completely lost track. Fiction, continue to write, layers of Narrative... what is Kai even talking about? However, Kai did not even think about stopping:
–The end of fiction as a whole can only come when The Sueno Finito is achieved.
–What is The Sueno Finito?...
–Hmm, I'm not sure that you can fully understand, but... it is a hypothetical point on the timeline of humanity when everything will be written. Everything that in theory can be imagined will already be imagined and created in the form of a book, movie, cartoon, game, comic or whatever. Down to the smallest details. There simply won't be anything new left to imagine. Fiction will stagnate without the opportunity to develop and, because of this, will cease to exist as such. I would say that The Sueno Finito is a compilation of everything that humanity has ever imagined, is imagining right now and will imagine in the future. It is everything that is within the limits of imagination and what is still beyond it. And you are going to stop this, huh?
Oliver just looked at Kai without expressing much emotion. It seems that he did not understand even half of what the magician said.
–Alright, that's not important at all for what we're going to do. Let's go
Kai walked along the corridors already explored by Oliver, leading to an already familiar clearing with roses. First Klein pointed to the word "Eternity" laid out in ice.
–"When Gerda found Kai, she saw him collecting assembling on the floor from pieces of ice. "What are you doing," she asked. "I must assemble the word "Eternity" from ice, then I will get new skates and a whole world to boot. That's what the Snow Queen said," answered the boy with an ice shard in his heart."
Oliver looked at Kai confusedly. The magician sighed and continued:
–Hans Christian Anderson, "The Snow Queen". Unfortunately, unlike the fairy tale, the "Eternity" puzzle was already assembled, even without my participation. I tried to take it apart, but the restarts and iterations continued with no end. Perhaps this time we can finally destroy Eternity and put an end to this endless farce, – Kai lowered his hand and Oliver nodded. – Let's go. Now I'll send you back. Make sure to remember: this will not be exactly your world. So, for your own good... don't look for your home and your friends. Promise me this. You are on your own now.
–But why?
–Just don't... although I know that you still won't listen to me. I'll just give you advice: don't do it. It will be better for your mental health.
–I'll think about it.
–Eh... okay, go on. Find Necronomicon and consume him. Now you will find yourself in a familiar world, although it will look... slightly different. 3, 2, 1.
It was about noon. The bustling streets of the capital were in full swing with hundreds of people and carts moving back and forth between the two-story buildings. No wonder, Arai – the main city of the kingdom of the same name – has always been full of humans... and non-humans too. If it wasn't enough, there was a big fair right now, in the height of summer, so the streets were very crowded. A stream of people, like a tsunami, walked into the center of the capital. More and more merchants arrived from the sea, to which more than half of the streets faced. White brick houses with red roofs surrounded people scurrying here and there. On the roof of one of the buildings Oliver has appeared.
The tiles creaked under his feet, and the wind blew in his face and blew his hair and cloak back. Approaching the edge, he looked down – the crows was as huge as he remembered. After stagnating time that he spent in Kai's world, that seemed like years, it was incredibly nice to feel the real breeze again. Smiling a little and placing the palm of his right hand on the back of his head, Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He stood there for a few seconds and could stand there for way longer, but time waits for no one. Opening his eyes and looking around again, Oliver realized that everything around him looked different... more real, one might say. This must be because he now perceives the world with his own eyes, and not with Gerda's descriptions.
With his hands in his pockets, Oliver walked along the roof in the direction where his house was. Kai said that he shouldn't go see his wife for the good of his mental health... however, Oliver decided to immediately break this rule. After all, he had at least t try to meet his friends again. Having reached the edge of the roof, he squinted and looked into the distance – it was hard to see from here, but over there, behind hundreds of other houses, his mansion could be seen. Some onlookers have already noticed that some fool has climbed onto the roof and is standing on the edge. But they still had a big surprise ahead of them – Clain turned around and jumped from the roof with his back down, crossing his legs in flight and placing his hands behind his head, as if lying down. However, literally in one meter from the ground he disappeared.
He immediately appeared in front of his mansion. Unfortunately, he was still in the same position, and at the same distance above the ground, so he hit the ground with his butt in a fall. He, of course, didn't feel any pain, so he quickly stood up, saying: "Eh, sadly, I couldn't do it the cool way." In front of him stood a large two-story – or three-story, if you take the attic into account – white stone mansion with a blue roof. It had a basic rectangular shape around the perimeter, if you do not count the protruding "tower" that was on the entrance side. Oliver approached the front door that was in that extension of the house.
Clain smoothed his hair, straightened his collar, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Only after that did he knock on the door. "I'm on my way!" a woman's voice was heard from behind the door, in which Oliver immediately recognized his wife's voice. Cirael opened the door and looked questioningly at Oliver. Behind her, or to be precise, behind her vast wings, Oliver could see a large living room in which some unfamiliar person was sitting. Sean and Ciel were nowhere to be seen.
–Do you... need anything? – she asked.
Oliver raised one eyebrow. The smile disappeared from his face. Cirael speaks as if he doesn't know him. How strange... the unfinished restart erased her memory? Or is this some kind of parallel world?
–Um... I'm Oliver. Don't recognize me?
–What a coincidence, my husband's name is also Oliver, – Cirael pointed to the living room, and the stranger sitting there waved his hand with a thoughtful look. – Maybe you mixed up the universes? Anyway, okay, we have friends coming over soon, it's my darling's birthday, so I'm afraid we need to make arrangements for the guests. Sorry!
The door loudly slammed almost right into Oliver's face. "So Kai transported me to an alternate universe? No, everything here looks literally the same as at home... although how do I know how alternate universes work?", Oliver thought and shrugged. He turned around and walked away from the door. Looking up and spreading his arms, he said:
–Hah, before I might have gone mad because Cirael didn't recognize me... it seems Kai underestimated how much stronger my mental health had become during the time spent in training.
Even though he said this, he was torn apart by his emotions inside. He could barely hold back his tears and screams. Oliver still had a smile on his face, but he was almost cracking inside.
–So, okay, I can't ask old friends for help, but I need to defeat Necronomicon, according to his plan, so it's time to get going. But first...
In an instant, Oliver transported from "his" mansion to the bar that he, alongside Sean, were frequent visitors of. The man who suddenly teleported here was almost hit by a cart, but he managed to move back. The small building greeted him with loud voices from inside. Not surprising, considering that now this city is full of people. Entering the bar, Oliver, out of habit, dodged a mug flying towards the entrance. This happened almost every time someone came in. When the mug broke and its fragments fell to the floor, they automatically flew up to the bar counter and reassembled, forming a new, unbroken mug. Oliver himself approached the bar counter and, sitting down at it, said, like a frequent customer:
–As usual, Joe.
The bartender looked at the arrival with bewilderment.
–It is the first time I see your face, – he said. – Moreover, only friends can call me "Joe".
–Yeah, whatever you say, Mr. Ligma. I'd like 3 glasses of milk, please.
Shrugging his shoulders, the bartender called "Joe Ligma" poured Oliver 3 mugs of milk, which Clain drank in one gulp. Having placed the empty glasses on the bar counter, he was about to leave when the bartender, slapping the counter, reminded Oliver of something that no visitor should forget: "You forgot to pay." Since Oliver was not the Oliver they knew now, "I'll pay later" wouldn't work. And, of course, he didn't have any money right now. Oliver turned to Joe and began to go through the options in his mind on what to do, however, the most sensible thing that he could think of, was just "run." Fortunately, a familiar voice was heard from the entrance.
–I'll pay his bill, – said seemingly Cirael, judging by the voice.
Following the sound of these words, the sound of breaking glass was heard – it seems like someone's mug flew right into the girl's face, as it happens to anyone who is here for the first time. Turning towards the voice, the person who Oliver saw... was not Cirael. It was still a beautiful female angel with white hair and blue eyes, but her height, facial features and clothing were quite different. The black dress with purple parts that covered her from her shoulders to the floor did not look at all like something Cirael would ever wear. And the face was... more "rough", so to speak. Not in the sense that it was unfriendly – on the contrary, there was a warm smile on the stranger's face – the face was as if it was the face of a sculpture into which little effort and time had been invested.
There were shards of broken glass from a broken glass in her hair, and a trickle of blood was coming from her forehead. However, the unknown woman did not seem to notice this. Joe Ligma, sighing, snapped his fingers and all the glass shards rose into the air and, flying up to the counter, assembled back into a whole container. Without saying a word, the winged girl came up and placed a bag of coins on the bar counter, which the bartender took and began to count. About 30 seconds later he nodded and pseudo-Cirael waved her hand behind her as she walked out of the bar, calling Oliver to follow her. In any case, he had nothing else to do here, so Clain followed the woman.
As soon as he took just one step outside the front door, he found himself not where he was supposed to be, on the streets of the capital Arai, but in a clearing of some forest. There were no sounds of birds, no rustling of leaves, and the color of the grass, earth and trees was somehow unnatural, as if painted in watercolors. The stranger stood in front, with her back to Oliver, and looked somewhere up.
–Well, tell me. Who are you, why did you help me, and, more importantly, why do you look so much like Cirael?
Oliver crossed his arms. There was no sense of danger from the unknown woman, but he was still ready – if she attacked, he would immediately create a shield of blades or teleport to the side.
–"Cirael"... yes, I it was once my name. However, I suppose now I am Beatrice.
"Beatrice" lowered her head. Her voice was quiet and melancholy, despite the fact that a couple of minutes ago her face was almost shining with a smile. Sighing and turning around, she continued, looking Oliver in the eyes.
–You already know about the true nature of everything around you, right? About Gerda, about fiction, about Narrative... about all this? – when Beatrice asked this, Oliver nodded. – Well... your wife, Cirael... originally, it should have been me. However, Gerda did not like the design, so she abandoned me without finishing writing my character. I floated in the Sea of Unrealized Ideas, devoid of feelings, emotions, motivation and... color. However, just recently, a flash, an explosion of color broke the veil of emptiness and, having gained feelings, I was able to escape from the Sea. It seems that this happened just when Gerda was unable to restart the story once again. Of course, the Clain who are not the main characters lose their true names, so for all of you I will be Beatrice Portinari...
Oliver couldn't look her straight in the eye. Looking sideways and down, he sighed and replied:
–I... I'm sorry, but I don't know what to say. I don't even know what is that Sea you're talking about... okay, never mind. Why did you help me?
–You see... I'm scared. I'm really scared. Look around.
Looking around, Clain noticed how high in the sky, the blue color paint of the sky ends and there is only white nothingness.
–Where we are right now is not some point in space-time and not another universe. This is... my inner world, the state of my mind. The colors that fill it gradually disappear. I'm scared, Oliver. One day, all the color that broke the shackles of oblivion will dry up... and I will again sink into the Sea of Ideas. Before this happens... I want to help as much as possible to the one for whom love was prewritten in me at the moment of my creation.
–I don't know what to say... okay, first, Beatrice... what is this "Sea of Unrealized Ideas" that you keep mentioning?
–I'm surprised that you don't know about it... I thought Kai would tell you about this first, because it's important for your survival... let's keep it simple. I don't know everything myself, it's better for you to ask someone who understands the structure of the world better. But I'll try to explain it to the best of my capabilities! When a character dies in a story, they aren't actually "dead". The true death of a character is oblivion. Only then can someone die when stories are no longer written about that character, and he himself is forgotten by people in the higher layers of the Narrative... or such a character is abandoned at the concept stage. This is my case. I am a half-baked character with no backstory, motivation, or abilities... all I have are appearance, emotions, and a desire to help the one person named Oliver Clain.
–But I... I'm not even Oliver right...
Oliver did not have time to finish, because Beatrice took his hands and, smiling sweetly, closed her eyes.
–But you are. You are Oliver. You always have been and always will be Oliver. Even if no one else considers you as such... for me, there is still only one Oliver Clain. And this is the one who had this name originally. It's you, Oliver.
A tear rolled down Oliver's cheek. He had never felt such pure kindness, even when he spoke with Cirael. This was not love or selfish flattery. Beatrice radiated positivity like a light bulb radiates light or the Sun radiates warmth. "But why do I feel this?" thought Oliver. And, although it was only his thought, Beatrice, opening her eyes and tilting her head to the side, answered that thought:
–Because despite my love for Oliver Clain was originally prewritten... my desire to help you is my own choice, for which the writer is not responsible. Cirael, although she loves you sincerely, has these emotions only because Gerda wrote her as such. Don't be afraid, I'm not going to say that you should leave her and go with me, although, undoubtedly, I would be pleased if that would be the case. After all, I will not exist forever, and soon enough I will disappear. Moreover, you are prewritten with the love for your Cirael, and this cannot be changed. So... I just ask that you let me help you before I lose myself.
Beatrice snapped her fingers and the false nature that surrounded the two changed, turning from the edge of a forest in the middle of the day into a cliff of rock at night. She sat down on the cliff and motioned for Oliver to sit next to her. Down below there was an unnaturally blue sea, and over it there was an overly white line, as if from the light of the moon, but the moon that should have been in the sky was only partially there – most of it was in that part of the dome of the fake sky where there is now no color. Sitting down next to Beatrice, Oliver sighed and lowered his head.
–I need... I need to defeat and absorb the soul of Necronomicon. After that, Kai will do the rest.
–So... wait a second, how are you going to do that? You already know what he is capable of...
–Kai taught me how to protect myself from this... at least I think so. Well, we'll see when we get there... you know, Beatrice, I'm scared too. If I fail, then my whole life will cease to matter. I'll lose the future, and I'll be lucky if I can move on to the next iteration as a useless background character. I only have one chance... that's what he said.
–Useless? I wouldn't say that. Both Kayen and Necronomicon and many others are also "background characters passed over from previous iterations," however, they are definitely of great importance for the world... of everyone who exists, I may be the only one who is useless.
–I wish I could say something like "don't say that about yourself"... but actually, how can you help me? You said that your abilities were not even finished. And it seems like I have to go through a goddamn hell.
–They weren't finished, yes. But exactly this is my strength. Since my abilities were not complete by the writer, I can do much more than Gerda originally planned for me. At least, I will be able to do all this to until...
When she said this, the paint of the sky, at the very top, slid down a little more, revealing more of that white blank nothingness. During that loss of color, everything around shook, but both Oliver and Beatrice did not fall.
–Yes... I don't have much time left, – said Beatrice.
–I see. Then let's get going, if you want to help.
Trying not to think about the "Sea of Ideas" and "Narrative Layers" that Beatrice mentioned, because he lacked information anyway, Oliver wiped a tear on his cheek and, now taking her hand, teleported away. Oliver and Beatrice appeared in a city already familiar to Oliver – that was the city where, last time (and, given that on the timeline they are now in the past, it would be more correct to say, next time) the Clains first met with Necronomicon. Way less people were here this time – the bulk of the local population must have been in the capital. Those humans and non-humans who were still here did not even pay attention to Oliver and Beatrice appearing out of nowhere.
–And... what are you going to do here? – Beatrice asked, looking around.
–Of course, I didn't get all of that, but Kai said that Necronomicon resides in a world that was created by him and which is 4-dimensional, which means it is infinitely superior to our three-dimensional world... I can bring him down here, into three-dimensional space, however, Kai said that in order to do so, I need to be in the very same location where I met him the previous time... previous time, which is in the future, but has already happened... you got it. We must first disperse the crowd somehow. I don't want any innocent people to get caught in the crossfire.
–Okay. Just give me a second then.
Beatrice raised her right hand and snapped her fingers. Absolutely all the living creatures that inhabited this city stood rooted to the for a second, but then walked away, towards the city gates. Oliver looked at Beatrice in shock.
–H... how did you do it?
–It's simple. They are extras. Crowd scene. Those who are intelligent and free can control them. Even you could... but you, of course, had no way of knowing.
–But isn't this... cruel?
Beatrice looked at Oliver in surprise.
–It's just extras. Yes, each of them is a living person, with their own desires, fears and the like. In the end, any Narrative is a whole full-fledged world, and sometimes more than one. However... not all characters are equally valuable.
Beatrice said this with an absolute calmness, without a trace of doubt. "Don't think about it for now. You have a more important task at the moment," said Beatrice and she was right. Oliver sighed. He doesn't like his new friend's approach to the people... however, he's not a hero in shining armor, or a great moralist, so he decided not to convince her otherwise. At this very moment, such a treatment of the locals was really for the better. Deciding not to wail again – without Beatrice's help, Oliver would have had problems dispersing the crowd – Oliver closed his eyes. All he had to do was imagine that...
Necronomicon sits in a white space on some kind of mattress-chair, holding in his hands a strange device on which he presses something while looking into some kind of box on which the pictures change. It seems like it is some kind of game. Whistling some melody, the young man, dressed in sheets of paper, closes his eyes... and falls down, through space itself. "What the hell?!", Necronomicon shouted as he jumped up from the ground. Even his chair was not there, but standing next to him was the already familiar Clain – Oliver, and someone who strongly resembled Cirael.
–What do you want from me?! I already told what you wanted to know and I don't want to have anything to do with this iteration! Actually, why hasn't it been restarted yet?...
With every word, the Necronomicon looked around with even greater fear in his eyes and voice. It seems that the ability to manipulate text does not provide knowledge of what is happening... or maybe it was Kai specifically who made sure that the Necronomicon did not know about his interference.
–It is not so important. What's important is that you're going to die now, – Oliver said.
Dozens of blades appeared around the Necronomicon and immediately converged on the center. They would have pierced the guy in the paper, but the Necronomicon instantly transported several meters to the side.
–I don't know how you managed to delay this iteration from being deleted, Clain, but it doesn't really matter. I don't even know why you decided to fight me. You know yourself how this will end.
Necronomicon was talking for a very long time, and during this time he could have been killed a million times, however, while he spoke, no one moved. And it didn't matter. In the end, Oliver completely disappeared while Beatrice looked on in it horror.
–Is there something wrong? – said Oliver, who was still here, despite the fact that he should have disappeared.
–What the hell?! – said the Necronomicon.
Oliver died and stopped moving, after which he fell to the ground and began to decompose... however, Clain remained on his feet and slowly walked towards Necronomicon. Necronomicon began to back away. Oliver stopped moving. Oliver disappeared. Oliver ceased to exist. Oliver was erased from reality. Oliver died. Oliver died. Oliver is dead! OLIVER WAS NEVER BORN AND NEVER EXISTED! OLIVER IS NOT IN THIS PLACE! ALL PROCESSES IN OLIVER'S BODY STOPPED AND HIS BODY DROPPED INTO ATOMS! WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?! YOUR DEATH IS CONFIRMED BY TEXT! DIE! DIE, DIE, DIE! NO ONE CAN RESIST THE PLOT!
–It doesn't matter who is standing in front of me – a person, a god, a writer, or even the plot itself! I will still achieve true freedom for myself and my family!... – having said this in the most pretentious voice, Oliver turned to Beatrice, who stood nearby and looked at it all indifferently, after which he awkwardly added, – uh, well, and friends, Yes.
Ha... ahaha! So that's it! Necronomicon burst into laughter. The horror on his face gave way to a casual grin, and he closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Yes, he understood everything. There was no reason to fight. In the end, Necronomicon will get everything it wants, all he needs to do is...
–I give up! – said Necronomicon while laughing. – Are you happy? You didn't even have to fight, heh. Well, you know, I just thought about it for a second and realized that you are my ticket to a great show. Well, come on, do what you have to! This is his plan, right? Well, carry it out. I will not disturb you. After all... Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the silly one.
Necronomicon held his arms out to his sides as Oliver tried to understand what had happened. It all was looking as unnatural and feigned as possible, however, trusting the young man dressed in paper, Oliver created a sword in his hand and pierced the Necronomicon's chest... and it was successful. The energy began to move from the body of Necronomicon into Oliver's body, until there was no life left. Oliver sighed and the sword that was in his hand disappeared, causing the Necronomicon's lifeless body to fall to the ground.
At that very moment everything froze. The world turned gray, and from behind Oliver, who was the only one who could comprehend what was happening, the Necronomicon came out.
–So, in the end, it was a trap... – said Oliver.
–Not at all. I, or, rather, my soul, is now inside your soul. It's just... I could show up at any moment to talk to you. After all, from now on, my very being is always with you, even if you don't want it. I see everything that you see... yes, even things, probably, should be something personal. Eh, anyway, that's not the point, – Necronomicon leaned back and seemed to lie directly on the thin air, as if on a bed. – Of course, I could appear to you without stopping time... but you must admit, it would be strange, because from the outside it would look as if you were talking to yourself. This way you can answer me and not look like a schizophrenic. Convenient, isn't it?
Oliver, shrugged and closed his eyes, after which he created a wide and blunt sword hanging in the air below him, on which he sat down. "Should I bring some tea?" asked Necronomicon, taking out two mugs and a whole teapot from under his clothes. Apparently it's also full. Necronomicon powers must have remained with him... then why did Kai need Oliver to absorb Necronomicon's soul at all?
–I won't refuse from tea, that's for sure, – said Oliver.
–Well, since we are now partners, let's talk, – while Necronomicon was saying this, a teapot flying in the air, despite the fact that time was standing still, filled flying mugs, one of which flew up to Oliver. – You probably think I saw you all from the higher layer of Narrative, right?
Oliver, who was just beginning to drink from his mug, choked and spat out his tea.
–What is this Narrative layer that you all keep talking about?! This is the third person in a row telling me about them!
–I don't wanna tell ya! – Necronomicon answered, barely holding back his laughter.
–You yourself said that we are partners now, didn't you?
–So what? Every team must have a troll teammate. And that will be me! Don't be afraid, I will definitely help... when the time comes. The very fact of my presence already helps a lot, you know...
–No, I do not know... okay, if you refuse to talk, then I'll just ask Kai!
–Yeah, whatever you say.
Having said this, Necronomicon simply disappeared, along with the teapot and cup Oliver was holding, and time began to move again. To Beatrice, it looked as if Oliver had instantly changed his position, causing her to look at Clain in surprise.
–What? I just drank tea with the soul of the Necronomicon in frozen time.
–Uh-huuuh... – Beatrice said drawlingly.
–Basically, we are done here. Now we need to somehow return to Kai. Oh, yes, you can cancel control over the locals, wherever they are, – in response to these words of Oliver, Beatrice nodded, after which Clain looked up and waved his hand. – Hey, Kai, pick us up!
Oliver didn't even have time to finish his sentence – at the word "up" he already found himself in the familiar ice palace. While Kai looked at Clain with a disappointed expression, Beatrice, who had been transported with him, was shivering from the cold.
–I left you unattended for like 5 minutes, and you're already dragging some girl to my house. Oliver-Oliver, you have a wife, you know... – Kai said, rolling his eyes. Of course, his "leaving Oliver unattended" was a lie. Most likely, Kai knew perfectly well about everything that was happening.
–Yeah, shouldn't complain. She helped me absorb the Necronomicon without unnecessary casualties, – Oliver replied.
–Cool. But if you also had to take care about not causing these casualties throughout the entire battle, it would be so much interesting... by the way, about the battle... it never happened! What was this all about? This is literally the most boring "battle" I've ever seen! And you can't even imagine just how much things I read and watched. Seriously, even the SCP Foundation documents were more fun to read than this shame.
Despite his words, after it, Kai still smiled, as he usually did. In the end, if it worked, then it's good enough. Kai must have decided that way. Shrugging his shoulders, Kai waved his hand towards Beatrice, and she stopped feeling the cold.
–Okay, it's still better than almost everything that Gerda wrote... well, that's beside the point. Since you succeeded, we can start... or maybe you suddenly have questions? Not that I know that you have questions, but... you never know, maybe... – Kai was clearly drawling.
–Yes, yes, your irony is unnecessary here. I do have questions. Something that everyone mentioned every now and then. And you, and Beatrice, – with these words, Oliver pointed at Beatrice, to which she nodded, not even understanding what Clain was talking about, – and Necronomicon.
The voice of Necronomicon rang in Oliver's head: "Well, it looks like it's time for that one chapter where one character takes a long, tedious time explaining the worldbuilding to the others, while dumping an awful amount of exposition.
–I want you to tell me everything you know about this world. What are Layers of Narrative, what is the Sea of Ideas... and juts everything! – said Oliver.
Kai shrugged and chairs appeared next to Oliver and Beatrice. Kai himself began to sit down, and a chair appeared under him at the same moment.
–Make yourself comfortable. We have a very long conversation ahead of us. We will not have that one chapter where one character takes a long, tedious time explaining the worldbuilding to the others, while dumping an awful amount of exposition.