I stared at the message on the screen. I see you.
It wasn't a coincidence. It wasn't a joke. Someone—this third force—had taken my words from The Phantom's Hand and thrown them into reality. The second foreteller wasn't the only one manipulating events anymore.
And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
The system chimed.
[New Quest: Identify the Third Force.]
[Reward: Special Authority Unlock – ???]
A quest? This was new. The system never gave me direct objectives before. Usually, it just responded to my actions, rewarding me based on influence. But now it was pushing me toward something.
I had to figure out who—or what—this third force was.
I refreshed the news feed. Officials were scrambling, reporters throwing out theories. Hackers? A rogue AI? A supernatural entity? No one had answers. The government had no leads.
But I had something they didn't.
I pulled up my system's history. Every time I made an impact, the system logged it. If this third force was responding to me, there had to be a pattern.
I scrolled through past notifications. My first real disruption had been with Spider-Man, when Peter Parker started noticing his own life in my comics. That was expected.
Then came Iron Man and Death Note. The public debates. The government's attempts to ban my work.
And then The Phantom's Hand.
That's when things changed.
The second foreteller reacted first, trying to erase evidence. But immediately after, this third force stepped in—not to stop them, but to observe.
They didn't interfere. They didn't attack. They just made themselves known.
I frowned.
If they weren't an enemy, then what were they?
The system chimed again.
[New Influence Detected: A Third Force Has Responded.]
I blinked.
Responded?
Before I could react, my screen glitched. The system flickered. For the first time since I arrived in this world, I lost control of my own interface.
And then, a new message appeared.
"Tell me. Who is writing your story?"
My breath caught. This wasn't like the second foreteller's desperate moves. This was direct. Deliberate. They weren't just watching. They knew.
My hands hovered over the keyboard. How was I supposed to respond?
I typed back.
"Who are you?"
The system flickered again. Another response.
"A reader."
I felt a chill crawl up my spine.
This wasn't just some random hacker. This wasn't another foreteller trying to play god.
This was someone—something—that understood exactly what was happening.
And they were watching me.
I exhaled. If they wanted to play, I'd play.
"Then enjoy the next chapter."
I closed the screen and started writing.