Leona's heart jolted as the air finally thickened around her chest, pressing against it like an invisible weight. Then, like a shot, the infamous monotone robotic voice reached her head, but it came with an ominous echo this time, as though vibrating through her bones.
"Alignment progress at 95%. Entering final phase."
The room she stood in seemed to ripple, its walls and shelves bending unnaturally, as if the very fabric of it had suddenly grown fluid. Books flew from their places, torn from their binding by an unseen force, and scattered like wounded birds.
Leona stumbled backward, clutching her head. "No! This cannot be!"
The voice spoke again this time, and the tone echoed through the room as if the walls themselves had become a living entity.
"Subject Leona. Your utility has reached its peak. Preparing for transition to the new narrative."
Before she could utter a word, a blinding light exploded from the center of the room, coalescing into a figure. The light dimmed, revealing a tall, faceless humanoid form. Its surface shimmered like liquid metal, constantly shifting as though it couldn't decide on a single shape.
Leona stumbled backward, her breath caught in her throat. "You're… the voice?"
"I am the Author," it said, its voice cold and emotionless. "This world is flawed. Its story broken. I will remake it, perfect it. You were chosen as my instrument. Now, you will serve your final purpose." The Capture Leona turned to flee, but the Author raised an arm, and shimmering tendrils of light shot out, wrapping around her. She screamed as they pulled her toward it, her limbs immobilized.
"Let me go!" she cried, fighting the bonds.
The Author cocked its faceless head, regarding her almost as if it were an insect. "You don't understand. This isn't punishment. It's transcendence. You shall become the foundation for the new narrative—a central character in the perfect story."
Leona struggled harder. "I won't be your puppet! These people, this world—it's not just characters! They're real!"
The Author paused, as if considering her words. Then it spoke, colder than ever. "Reality is subjective. Their purpose is to serve the narrative. You will understand soon enough."
Before Leona could protest further, the light enveloping her grew brighter until it swallowed her whole.
Elsewhere, deep within the palace, a loud, unnatural crack boomed down the corridors and interrupted Cedric's training session. He froze mid-swing as his sword vibrated in his grasp, a cold wave of unease sweeping down his spine.
"Leona," he muttered, his chest clamping with an instant sense of dread.
Without hesitation, he left the session and ran toward the disturbance. He burst into the library and found the room in disarray—books all over the floor, furniture overturned, and some weird, pulsating light disappearing into nothing.
But no Leona.
"Where is she?" Cedric growled, his voice shaking.
A shadow moved at the far end of the room. From the darkness stepped Elias, his usual smirk replaced by a grim expression.
"She's gone," Elias said in a low tone.
Cedric strode forward, grabbing Elias by the collar. "What do you mean, gone? Where is she?"
Elias didn't flinch. "The voice-the thing pulling the strings-it's taken her. It's finally revealed itself."
Cedric released him, his hands shaking. "How do we get her back?"
Elias hesitated, his eyes dark. "It won't be easy. That thing isn't just controlling the story—it is the story. If we're going to save her, we'll need Vivienne. And we'll need to rewrite the rules."
In the training yard, Vivienne was sparring with Magnus, their swords clashing in a rhythmic dance of steel. She had grown stronger, more confident—a far cry from the hesitant girl Leona had first encountered.
When Cedric and Elias entered, Vivienne immediately knew that something was wrong. She lowered her sword, a frown on her face. "What happened?"
"It's Leona," Cedric said, strained. "The voice took her."
Vivienne's hand tightened around her sword. "Took her? Where? Why?"
Elias stepped forward, his expression serious. "The voice—what I've called the Author—wants to rewrite the story entirely. Leona was never meant to fix this world; she was meant to help destroy it. Now, it's using her as the keystone for its new narrative."
Vivienne's eyes blazed with determination. "Then we'll stop it."
Elias raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
"Leona believed in me when no one else did," Vivienne said firmly. "She helped me reclaim my role, my strength. I won't abandon her now."
Magnus stepped forward, his usual arrogance tempered by a rare sincerity. "If we're doing this, we're doing it together. The Author won't stand a chance."
The group gathered in Cedric's chambers, where Elias laid out their plan.
"The Author exists in a space outside this world," Elias explained, drawing a crude diagram on parchment. "It's tethered here through its influence over the story. To reach it, we'll need to exploit the very fabric of the narrative."
Magnus crossed his arms. "And how do you propose we do that?"
Elias smiled faintly. "By creating a deviation so large, so catastrophic, that it forces the Author to manifest fully. Then, we strike."
Vivienne frowned. "A deviation? Like what?"
Elias glanced at Cedric. "You're the male lead. The Author depends on you staying true to your role. If you abandon it completely-reject your destiny, your love for the heroine-it will destabilize everything."
Cedric's jaw clenched. "You're asking me to betray the story itself."
"No," Elias said, his voice softening. "I'm asking you to save her."
After a long pause, Cedric nodded. "Whatever it takes."
It worked sooner than expected: the moment Cedric publicly renounced his role - declaring himself not to follow the script of the story - the world around them started to change. The sky darkened, and cracks appeared in the palace, spreading like veins of lightning.
A shimmering portal of light materialized in the throne room, pulsating with energy in an unnatural way. From within came the Author, its faceless form radiating power.
"Deviation detected," it said, its voice shaking the very ground. "Stabilization required."
Cedric stepped forward, his sword drawn. "You want stability? Come and take it."
The Author paused, cocking its head. "Futile resistance. Your role is irrelevant now."
Vivienne stepped beside Cedric, her own sword raised. "We'll see about that."
With a roar, the Author unleashed a wave of energy, but the group was ready. Magnus summoned a shield of fire, deflecting the blast, while Cedric and Vivienne charged forward.
Meanwhile, in the Author's domain, Leona floated in a sea of light. Tendrils of energy wrapped themselves around her, feeding her visions of a rewritten world: she was the perfect heroine, adored, powerful, unchallenged.
"Why resist?" the Author's voice echoed in her mind. "This is your destiny."
Leona gritted her teeth against the pull. "It's not real. Not mine."
The voice of the Author turned even colder. "Reality is what I create. Accept it, or be erased."
But Leona was not alone. A faint warmth spread through her-a reminder of the bonds she had forged. Cedric's unwavering loyalty, Vivienne's friendship, even Magnus' reluctant respect-they were real, and they gave her strength.
"I won't let you win," she said, her voice steady.
The tendrils constricted harder, but Leona was only more determined. She shut her eyes and thought of the people who were fighting on her behalf. If they could believe in her, then she would not give up.
Meanwhile, back in the throne room, the battle continued. Cedric and Vivienne fought as one, their swords rising and falling together, while Magnus cast wave after wave of fire to hold the Author back.
But the Author would not relent, its shape twisting and re-forming with each strike.
"We can't keep this up," Magnus growled, wiping sweat from his brow.
"We don't have to," Elias said calmly. "Just a little longer."
As the Author raised a mighty tendril of energy to strike, Cedric shouted, "Now!"
Vivienne sprang forward, plunging her sword into the tendril. The Author let out a deafening screech as its form faltered, giving Elias the opening he needed.
Elias activated the device he had prepared—a small, glowing orb that pulsed with unstable energy. He hurled it at the Author, and the room was engulfed in blinding light.
When the light faded, the group found themselves in the Author's realm, standing before a weakened but still formidable foe. In the center of the void floated Leona, her form flickering like a fading star.
"Leona!" Cedric shouted, running toward her.
The Author tried to intercept him, but Vivienne and Magnus held it back, their combined strength enough to weaken its defenses.
He finally reached Leona and took her hand. Her eyes flickered open, a small smile on her lips.
"You came," she whispered.
"Always," he replied, pulling her close.
Together, they faced the Author, determination burning in their eyes. The Last Stand
Backed into a corner, the Author launched one last attack. Its body fractured under the stress of it, but Leona, imbued with the power of those bonds, braced herself.
"This is not your story," she said, her voice unwavering. "It is ours."
With one final, collective blow, the group destroyed the form of the Author, its light bursting into nothingness.
As the void around them began to collapse, Leona felt a sense of peace. The battle was over, but the story was just beginning.