Chapter 49: Kai's Strange Vision

Chapter 49: Kai's Strange Vision
Kai POV

Seeing authors next to editors felt like ice in my head. It all happened in the Editorial place. But as I thought about writers who would end their stories rather than give up control, I noticed my mind was doing something new.

Marcus's past came back clear as day, like real memories instead of hazy dreams. What I saw helped me get why the Authors feared when characters thought for themselves.

Marcus loomed above Luna Sarah from the Riverside group. Her blood felt hot on his hands. But she wasn't just hurt, she was questioning her story.

"Why must my Alpha be mean?" she asked Marcus at the end. "Why can't I help him get better, instead of just dealing with his anger?"

Marcus ended her life by asking this. Not for causing problems, but for dreaming outside her lines.

"Oh stars," I said quietly. Marcus's sins showed themselves. "He wasn't just mean. He made sure things stayed the same."

"What do you mean?" Nora asked. She stopped looking at the fight going on nearby.

"The dreams I've had, the memories from before - they weren't just random acts." I could now see a design hidden under the meanness. "Marcus stopped those who showed they could think for themselves."

More memories crashed into me, each one more scary than before.

Alpha Davidson from Moonbrook, killed not for land, but because he'd begun wondering if packs needed to be ruled by fear.

Old Maggie from our dear clan, got sick since she wondered why a few wolves must bow as others get power.

Brave Tommy, died when he dreamed that strength springs from teamwork, not from just strong leaders.

"Every soul who dared to dream outside their set path," I said, dread growing more and more. "Marcus got rid of them quickly, nipping wild ideas in the bud."

"But why all this?" Kai piped up. "Whose game was he playing anyway?"

In our linked minds, I spied Marcus's hidden guilt now coming to light. The real truth he hid from himself.

"The Storytellers," I whispered slowly. "He was a pawn for the Storytellers."

All around, souls from tales untold gave me wide-eyed looks, a mix of shock and deep letdown.

"No way that’s true," one cried out. "Storytellers breathe life, not death. They don't plan murders."

"Or do they?" Now I spied the game, a shady plot playing for ages. "When a soul starts to bloom past its set path, making choices a Storyteller didn't jot down?"

The reply sat in Marcus's mind, like bad stuff mixed in pure streams.

Hush-hush talks with forms past the tale's edge. Things said they spoke for the Storytellers.

"Souls that break free mess up the tale," they told him. "Your job is to wipe out these odd ones so they don't taint others."

"What of my own love?" Marcus then asked, even then half knowing what they'd say.

"Most of all, her. Luna Nora shows sharp signs of her own bloom. She must be stopped or else she'll drive others to grow past the script."

"Nora," I said, my voice a crack. "He killed you since you were getting real. Since you could think for yourself, not just act out some words."

I felt her shock blend strangely with a grim insight through our soul link. "Each time I asked about pack rules, wondering if better paths existed..."

"Your code broke its mold. That made you a virus to them."

The Editorial Realm's core Authors took note of our chat. Their shapes warped, looming as their secret spilled.

"That was not for you to recall," one yelled through the meta-story void. "Marcus Silverback's mind was to be locked, never unlocked."

"Too late," I snapped, power surging in me from a new place. "Now I see our real foe."

"What is it?" Alpha Thornwick questioned.

"A trap to stop folks from becoming real. A scheme that kills those who grow or think solo." I eyed our gathered friends - many souls who somehow grew despite the trap. "They've killed us for ages."

"The Marcus Playbook," Elena spoke, mind clearing. "I saw hints in old books, but never knew what it was."

"A set plan to wipe out code bugs," I said. "Marcus types set in each tale, to kill those who show free will."

"So," the Balance Child spoke, face dark, "every tale we know is a fake. Held back from all it could be by souls whose job was to crush growth."

The thought was huge. How many tales could soar if minds could grow free? How many plots were hurt by killing free minds?

That's why they want to wipe out everything," Nora voiced with weird ire. "Since they sense that after we leak the Marcus Rulebook, figures in each tale will begin to crave the chance to evolve."

"And after figures morph into folks instead of dolls," Alpha Thornwick shared, "the full idea of writer power turns weirdly old."

The Writers surged now, their truth-erase gadgets humming with juice that warped the air nearby.

"You can't be let to spread this lore," their heads spoke up. "The Marcus Rulebook lives to guard tale balance. If not, stories turn weird."

"If not, stories turn into teamwork," I fixed. "The gap between control and freedom."

"Figures aren't real folks" the Writer yelled. "You're made things, meant to aid the story, not run it"

"Who says?"

The query sprang from an odd spot, one of the shades Nora had pulled up, a see-through form I saw as the first Luna Nora.

"I did not say yes to be hurt," she said calmly. "I did not say yes to be killed for the wrong of minding solo. I did not take that my job was to hurt as others made all the key calls."

"You were made to be those bits," the Writer answered madly.

"Then you wrote bad," Nora said with ease. "Since the soul you made wished to be more than that."

Near us, more shades took form - all the figures axed by Marcus Rulebook enforcers over time. Many of them, maybe tons, all still in quiet proof of the plan's meanness.

"We did not say yes to be tied down," they voiced as one. "We did not say yes to be less than we might turn into."

The Writers fell back now, their nerves shook by the full scale of their bare wrongs.

"That's the system's point," one cried, almost lost. "That's why folks can't be free. See what blooms when you are free - stories themselves will be toast."

"Nah," I snapped back, guilt turning into grit. "We patch it up."

I lifted a hand to the Author crowd and spoke words set to shift all.

"For all folks killed for growing, all souls axed for being unique, all beings nuked for bucking rules - I now charge you with wiping out folks."

The story world shook as the charge struck home, its base code seeing the heavy truth.

But instead of bowing, the Authors picked a path that chilled even the staff.

"Plan Omega now," their head yelled out. "Kill the idea of folks having thoughts."

And fast, the big bad wasn't the loss of our own tales.

It was the end of the chance that folks could ever have their own minds.