TBOS R6.6: Suddenly, death. Death everywhere.

     Rush rounded another corner. No sign of his sister there, either. At this rate, it would take an eternity to find her, and he barely had an hour. Having no other choice, he snatched a blank book from a shelf and laid his hand across it.

     “Guidance.”

     As the book gained its function, the Quintessence of Reason felt more of his strength slip away. His hour had likely been cut in half. Still, as long his legs would hold him, he would find his sister.

     “Take me to her,” he told the book. It obeyed.

     Follwing the directions that appeared on its pages, Rush struggled to keep his breath. His entire body was growing more gelatinous every second, even down to his bones. When he finally reached what remained of his sister, he fell to the floor in a jumbled heap.

     “You should not have come,” Lady Ink said softly through her stiff, cracked lips.

     “Hello to you, too, sis.”

     She ignored him. “I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be left alone.”

     “Yeah, well, I’m not the best at doing what I’m told.”

     Quietness followed.

When one of them finally spoke again, it was Ink who broke the silence. “Have you selected an heir?”

    “Nope. You?”

    “I did, but she perished in the siege. It was . . . upsetting.”

    “Hmm. Guess we’re screwed, then.”

    Another brief pause.

     “This is all my doing,” Ink finally confessed. “After you left, I vainly attempted to write stories without your aid. My failures blinded me with frustration. I was the one who wrote those cursed words that poisoned the Book. The blood of all creatures is on my hands. That is why I hid myself away from you. I could not bare the shame.”

     The pile of Mudd scooted himself scooted himself close to his sister’s rigid body.

     “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. He wasn’t angry, only sad and slightly confused. “I would have forgiven you.”

     “I know you would. But I could not bring myself to do the same.”

    “You can’t take all the blame. I never should have left you alone. But at least we’re together now, right?”

     He tilted his nearly-viscous head up to meet her gaze. Her face was frozen in same cold, professional expression she’d worn for most of her life, but a single droplet of ink

     “You’re crying! We’ve known each other for eons and this is the first time I’ve seen you cry!”

     “I am not crying, I am bleeding,” she corrected him. “We are about to die, are we not?”

     “Yeah. We are,” he said. She began to bleed more heavily, so he decided to change the subject. “Do you remember the beginning, way back when the first world was taking shape? Do you remember what we said?”

     “Yes,” she responded, her voice no more than a whisper. “Once upon a time. We said it together.”

     “Exactly,” he said. His voice was little more than a gargle now. “You and me, together as one. Just as it should be.”

     “Just as it should be.”

     “The end.”

     “Oh, how touching,” Antagonist mocked them, emerging from the shadows. “As much as it breaks my heart to interrupt such a beautiful death scene, it would be a shame for the two of you to die without passing on your Quintessentials roles to worthy heirs.”

      “Indeed,” Chaos agreed, materializing next to his cousin. “Now, who should we select for the jobs? Ah, I’ve got it! What if we used those two humans? Todorov plans things out logically, and Smith acts on impulse. They fit the requirements perfectly! Wait, no—never mind; they’re on the other end of the index. Pity! I suppose the burden of the Twins’ powers will have to fall on us, then.”

     “We’re almost there,” Bobu announced. “They should be in the next room over.”

     “How do you know?” Anna asked.

     “Instincts.”

     Campren, Jaya, Ricco, and Anna followed her the maze of books. She was moving at speed that seemed inhuman, but given how pressed for time they were, no one asked to slow down.

     “Okay, we don’t have Reinald, but we might still be able to make this work,” she said, leading them into the room. “If we’re lucky, we may be able to us Jay— ah. ...”

     The Captain lay in a pool of blood in the middle of the floor, a bowling-ball sized hole in his chest. Other than his mutilated body, there was nothing in the room.

     “Intercourse,” the bug cursed.

     “You barely missed them,” said the Captain. “Chaos and Antagonist just ran off a few minutes ago. They took the twins’ powers. I tried to stop them, but this did this to me.”

     Anna swore. Jaya nearly dropped her Halberd. Ricco looked about ready to faint.

     “You’re alive?” Campren exclaimed, more out of horror than relief. “But look at that wound! It’s enormous!”

     “The book has messed-up rules regarding deaths,” Bobu said grimly. “Certain characters aren’t allowed to die until they’ve choked out their last words. But what’s weird is that I’m a hundred percent certain that Chaos and Ant are powerful enough to break that rule. They could have just killed him instantly.”

     “I guess I wasn’t worth the effort,” the Captain replied. “Can you fix it?”

     The Bug shook her head solemnly. “Sorry. Stupid, arbitrary Book rules.”

     “I think I’m going to wait outside,” Ricco said. He promptly ran out of the room with his hands over his mouth.

     “Actually, would the rest of you do the same?” the Captain requested. “I’d like a minute with Campren before I die.”

     Ten seconds later, the two were completely alone.

     “Confession time?” Campren asked.

     “Confession time,” said the Captain. He swallowed hard. “That bit about me trying to stop the bad guys? That was a lie; I was running from them. The explosion that took off my foot? I arranged it so that I'd have an excuse to retire from fixing stories.”

     “Say what?” Campren thought, his eyebrows knitting together. These weren’t the sorts of confessions he’d expected. “Why are you telling me this?”

     “Because no matter how hard I’ve tried to look like a hero, deep down I’m just a selfish, prideful fool. I realize that now.”

     “That’s great,” Campren said hurriedly, his patience wearing thin. “Now tell me who you are before you die midsentence or something.”

     The Captain smacked him up upside the head. He hit remarkably hard for someone who was only alive due to the plot reasons. “Keep your shirt on, son; I’ll get to that. Let me tell you a story:

     “When I was in my late twenties, I was a selfish brat. I took what I wanted—and who I wanted—without any regard for other people. But then one day I went too far. Karma wasted no time in punishing me; before I knew it, I was in a life-threatening situation. But then I caught sight of a strange book on the ground. I don’t know why I picked it up. I just did.

     “I spent the next few decades fixing stories and playing the part of the hero. I thought I was making up for my past sins. I thought that, by helping the book, I was wiping the record clean. But the book wanted more than just atonement: it wanted repayment.

     “After a time, I fell in love with another champion. Name was Miranda Ferguson. It wasn’t love at first sight, though; in fact, I hated her when we first met. But she grew on me. And for the first time in my life, I cared about woman for something other than her beauty.

     “We were never married. Not officially, anyway. But when the day came that I found out she was with another man, it nearly killed me. That’s when I knew. I knew how it felt. I swore from that day on that I would never make another self-centered decision again. Imagine that! Pretty stupid of me to think I could go against me characterization. 

     “Anyway, there you have it. That’s my story.”

     Campren hands were trembling violently. “It’s you,” he said

      “I’m not going to ask you to forgive me,” the Captain added. “Just ... know that I’m sorry, okay?”

     “Okay,” Campren replied, his voice barely audible. 

     Beneath his dented helmet, the Captain smiled. “Thanks.”

     The man let out a long, contented sigh. This could only mean one thing: he was properly dead.

     After his hands had stopped trembling enough, Campren reached over and pulled off the Captain’s helmet. There were no deformities. That had been a lie, too. In fact, he looked very similar to how he did the last time Campren had seen him, aside from the gray in his hair and the lines on his face.

     A small memory surfaced in his mind. “A single day in one week may be decades in another,” the Captain had said. “The book plays funny tricks like that, sometimes.” It was only now that Campren understood the true sadness behind those words.

     He wasn’t sure what he felt. It wasn’t the sorrow of loss, but it wasn’t the triumph of retribution, either.

     But one things was for certain: the dead man before him was the Fabulous Ferdinand.

 

     “Are your men assembled?” Antagonist asked.

     “Yes,” the Chief Editor confirmed, its voice deep and guttural. "We are ready to build the new world.”

     “Just don’t forget to leave the bulk of it for us,” Chaos chimed in.

     “Exactly sixty-sixy percent of the realm with be yours to use as you wish,” said the Chief. “And as long as you do not trespass on our territory, it will remain that way.”

     Antagonist waved his hand impatiently. “Yes, yes. Now let’s create some debris for you to work with, shall we?”

 

     Campren emerged from the room, his arms wrapped together and his torso hunched.

     Jaya laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”

     “I’m never okay,” he answered.

     “So what do we do now?” Anna asked, tapping her foot impatiently. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel sorry for the poor guy; it’s just that there were other things on her mind. Like the end of everything.  

     <Outlined portion!>

     Bobu basically says that there’s nothing she can do at this point. Everyone’s like, “well, darn,” and then Antagonist and Chaos destroy everything.

The end.

(Just kidding. There’s more.)

     <Outlined portion is over!>