As soon as the meal was over, night had fully set in. It also meant that it was time for an evening outing. It had been a while since I went out without Leonardo, so I felt a little tense.
He sat on the bed, looking reluctant to part, so I picked up a blanket and wrapped him up tightly. He looked like a giant cabbage wrap. As I watched his face peeking out from the folds, I suddenly burst into laughter. He wriggled slightly and reached out his arms.
The bundle of blankets—closer to a cocoon than a pair of hands—greeted me, but it was still enough to pull me into an embrace. Wrapped up like a flying squirrel's wings, it felt warm and cozy. If I lazed around like this a little longer, I'd probably doze off.
"Are you trying to tempt me?"
"Mm…"
I could sense the wicked scheme—to keep me trapped in bed.
Leonardo frantically rolled his eyes, feigning ignorance. Not that it mattered—he was terrible at lying anyway.
'I'll be back soon, okay?'
I whispered through
Back when I first acquired it, the ability had been little more than a long-range radio. But at this point, I fully realized just how invaluable it had become. Being able to speak behind the curtain—free from the law that dictated all events on stage must be recorded—was a relief. Even if it was a bit troublesome at times, leaking my thoughts without warning.
After much coaxing and soothing, Leonardo finally relented with a sluggish sigh and released his arms. Escaping from the blanket monster was no easy feat.
「Be careful.」
His words lingered in my ears for a long time.
I lifted the entrance flap of the tent and stepped outside, where the cold wind bit into my cheeks. The torches surrounding the camp offered some light, but with the snow-laden wind swirling through the air, visibility remained poor.
[Sub-writer 1: Since you don't want to be seen sneaking out at night.]
I glanced at the message window, sensing the unspoken plea for praise, then pulled my cloak tighter.
In the corner of my vision, a map unfolded—painted in muted greys, with a dragon's tail marking my path. Now, all that was left to do was walk, and walk some more.
Once I had put enough distance between myself and the hunting party's encampment, I lit the lantern. The amber glow bloomed softly, casting a hazy light over the ground beneath my feet.
At last, when the encampment had completely disappeared behind the black silhouettes of the shrubs, Godric spoke again.
[Sub-writer 1: Leaving Leovald behind was a wise choice.]
[Sub-writer 1: That way, it's easier to look after you.]
Before I could fully grasp his meaning, the anomaly began.
The snowy mountain landscape, the towering conifers casting dark shadows, the gravel and jagged rocks beneath my feet—all of it started to lose form and collapse.
Outlines grew dull, colours flattened into monotony. The once three-dimensional scenery turned two-dimensional, like a backdrop painted on wooden panels. And then, everything became a vast, white plain—an immense sea of mist.
As if returning to its original state. A place outside the protagonist's perception, beyond the reach of the spotlight, existing in nothing but grayscale.
Even the distinction between ground and void blurred, making it feel as though I might plummet at any moment.
[Sub-writer 1: You should be careful.]
Something cold clasped my free hand—the one not holding the lantern. Startled, I turned around, but there was nothing there. I could barely sense a presence, a form pressed together from air without warmth. It felt as though I were holding hands with a ghost.
"What the…"
[Sub-writer 1: Just a little trick.]
He murmured, sounding amused, and with a gentle pull, he began to guide me forward.
"If you try to take me somewhere strange…"
[Sub-writer 1: So suspicious. Fine, fine—enough with the death threats.]
Drifting through a boundless white sea with no markers or reference points was a profoundly strange sensation. I couldn't tell if I was descending, ascending, moving in a straight line, or spiralling aimlessly.
It reminded me of a thought I once had while staring at a rare, star-sparse night sky.
They say the universe is constantly expanding every second, but if that's true, then what's outside of it? What does it mean for nothing to exist? Is it just an endless expanse of white light?
And now, here I was, walking through a place eerily similar to that vague, distant imagination.
A stage without set pieces. The space beyond the stage. A sight that never existed when I was by Leonardo's side—the protagonist's side.
The dragon's tail exploration rate was rising steadily, yet I had no idea what I was actually looking at. Just as Godric had said, this was a loophole. I turned to the formless entity holding my hand.
"Why are you helping me?"
And so devotedly, at that.
[Sub-writer 1: The night outing was inevitable anyway. Wouldn't it be wiser to take the fastest and safest route, ensuring that the chest holding my precious treasure remains undamaged?]
"So you're not just trying to lure me in?"
The words floating in the air wavered slightly.
Laughing again.
I wasn't sure if he genuinely found things amusing or if he was deliberately crafting that impression. Without a face to read, there weren't many clues to go on.
[Sub-writer 1: There's no harm in helping each other. We have no real reason to be enemies, do we?]
[Sub-writer 1: Leovald could be the only reason.]
[Sub-writer 1: But does it have to be?]
The unseen presence tightened its grip around my hand, firmer than before.
Godric's intentions were becoming clear. Not that I really needed to guess—it was obvious.
'He's trying to win me over since taking the corpse and the original manuscript by force isn't an option.'
No wonder he was being unusually cooperative with this nighttime excursion. Annoying as it was, I'd have to play along—at least until I reached 100% exploration.
I watched the steadily rising dragon's tail exploration rate and spoke.
"What do you mean?"
[Sub-writer 1: Just what I said… Think about the other writers. They push you to sacrifice yourself for Leovald, don't they?]
The unseen figure brushed aside my cloak and sleeves.
Fingers traced over scars—once deep wounds, now healed over with smooth, new skin. They glided over the faint remnants of the letters Ó.L and F.O, following the shapes gently, from top to bottom. The sensation was unfamiliar. Completely different from when Leonardo applied ointment, rubbing it in with careful hands.
[Sub-writer 1: I can offer you more than they ever promised.]
I wondered if he even knew what the main author had promised me. Even I wasn't sure what that was.
[Sub-writer 1: I could grant you everything you desire.]
He was whispering a sweet daydream.
"And how do you know what I want?"
[Sub-writer 1: Desire is the simplest answer of all. You don't need to agonize over what you thirst for—you just know.]
This was the part where people usually started thinking about their desires and longings. Endless wealth, glory, honour, vague dreams of happiness, eternal youth, immortality—things like that.
But I had never wished for any of those.
Contrary to Godric's claim that desire is instinctive, isn't knowing what you lack, something you only realize after you've had a taste of it?
If I'd never experienced wealth or glory, how could I be certain those were the things missing from my life?
How could someone too young to have aged ever truly long for youth?
How could I wish for eternity when I'd never experienced a moment of happiness so profound that I wanted it to last forever?
The reason I wanted my life back, the reason I wanted to return to my world—was simply because I had unfinished business.
Becoming a star on stage. Leaving something behind. Becoming a good actor—one that someone, even just one person, would remember.
[Sub-writer 1: What if you became the protagonist of a new story?]
Godric's message burned itself into my vision.
"A new story…?"
[Sub-writer 1: If we have the
[Sub-writer 1: This stage is already ruined. Too many hands have meddled with it over the past ten years. They struggled to hold it together, but in doing so, they only ended up destroying what was already there.]
[Sub-writer 1: So, we start over. From the very beginning.]
Fingers that had rested on my wrist slid upward, pressing lightly against my chest. They traced a slow, teasing circle.
[Sub-writer 1: Do you think I'm cruel? Because of the dead roles, the ones that vanished?]
[Sub-writer 1: But what if I could bring all of them back?]
[Sub-writer 1: I am trying to fix things. Yes, those poor souls—the Count's wife, the Duke's grandfather, and all the nameless shadows who disappeared.]
Godric whispered gently.
[Sub-writer 1: Everything can be set right. If you help me. And in the process, inserting you into a new role. That's hardly difficult.]
[Sub-writer 1: Don't you want to return their mother to the Count's family? Don't you wish for those who died in tragedy to live and fulfill their purpose instead?]
[Sub-writer 1: Don't you want a new story—one that's better for everyone?]
The words twirled in my vision like a dance before scattering away. I glanced at the dragon's tail exploration rate—it had already soared past 90%.
And finally, I answered.
"What about Leovald?"
For all of Godric's grand, noble-sounding words, there was one glaring omission—the protagonist of this story. Of course. In Godric's plan, Leovald had to disappear. His body had to be hollowed out, repurposed, so Sub-writer 1 could crown himself the new protagonist.
"How hypocritical. Everything could have been fine, but you ruined this story because of your own greed."
[Sub-writer 1: Which is exactly why I'm trying to fix it. A fresh start, from the very beginning.]
Just more pretty words. I was getting tired of pretending to listen to this nonsense.
"I'll pass."
[Sub-writer 1: Why?]
"Who knows… Maybe I've grown too attached."
After everything we'd been through, I just had to see Leovald reach a good ending. As I let out a short laugh, the map's exploration rate finally hit 100%.
Godric wouldn't let me go so easily, but before he could react, a familiar message bounced across the white waves, as if it had been waiting for this exact moment.
[The
It was time to end this little stroll.
"Quit being a nuisance and get lost."
The white fog peeled away in an instant, and the stage rebuilt itself. Towering peaks, a grey sky veiled in pale clouds, and the crisp, wintry night air that filled my lungs.
Though there was one thing I hadn't expected. Of all places, I had to return midair. A dizzying sensation flipped my stomach as gravity took hold—
And I began to plummet.