SAVE POINT 45

Loading A Confrontation, Boss Level [Pro-Tip: For Phone, Turn Sideways To View Map]...66%

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1111044643572949082/889df988-db92-4593-8de5-578768034f3c.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1111044643908485190/957ff6d7-5499-481e-b86e-765d8d72d3a5.png]

Rosabella

Goran and I circle each other like crows in the air, pacing our feet on the hard floor of the balcony, readying our hands. If he can use creator magic to destroy everything good and fight us, I can use it to do the opposite. I can save us all, just as Callen said. I have to believe it.

I swallow nervously, finding my throat almost completely parched—from nerves?

Maybe this was a stupid idea...challenging Goran. I've seen his stats. He's -300 in creator magic; he's obviously practiced in black magic...but, then, again I have to try.

I can't back down.

Finally, here's my chance.

To prove to him I'm not weak.

I close my eyes for the briefest second, attempting to focus there. And I ready my own magic—

An enormous snake slithers out of Goran's fingers—made of his magic. It's charcoal-black form shimmers in the air, swimming its massive coils towards me, blinking slitted ruby-red eyes. Its jaw unhinges with a hissing snarl, displaying rows of thin, razor-edged fangs...

Oh God.

Can black magic...bite me? I don't want to wait around and find out!

I dive inwards, summoning the creator magic, balling it into my hands and fists—

The giant snake rears its head, lunging for me. I feel it's hot breath on my forehead even as I clamp my eyes shut—

The creator magic.

I let it course out of my body. I don't know why, but I get the strangest idea of what I want to create, and I imagine it, there, already in my hands—held up between me and the creature—to protect my face. And, then, I feel it—scratchy against my palms—

I concentrate harder, till I feel something sticky on my skin.

Snap.

The beast's fangs come together with a scream but—

My face...

My face is...okay...???

I open my eyes, wincing like there will be pain even though I don't feel anything. Instead, something jumps, jubilant, inside of me.

—What? Did I do it?!

The snake is held captive by the massive, corrugated sponge I created—its teeth stuck in both the holes and the Gorilla glue I'd imagined both sides slick with. The yellow sponge sticks firmly to the roof of its mouth. The animal tries to shake it off, but the glue holds tight. And it can't do anything with a sponge stuffed in its fangs. Squirming and wreathing in annoyance, the thing dances around in the air completely harmless.

Breathless, I stifle a chuckle, but the smile still gets through.

I DID do it. This is hilarious—

"You think this is funny?!" Goran spits, frustration lining his face, "Creator magic is not something to play around with—"

He whips a dagger out of his belt, chucking it at the head of the snake, seeming to want to put it out of its misery...or use it as a dartboard for his. The throw isn't aimed at me, but I'm having too much fun showing off. I wiggle my fingers in the air, engorging the sponge so that it all but engulfs the knife as well as the snake.

"—Says the man who broke the world playing around with creator magic," I throw back, proud of my snarky retort. I raise a determined eyebrow, trying to steady my breath and bracing myself for another attack. "I wouldn't have to use it this way at all if you'd leave me and my friends alone while I fix The Game—"

"That's not going to happen." Goran clenches his jaw and throws his arms out at me.

All of a sudden, sand stings my eyes and a windstorm kicks up my hair, thrashing it around my head. I try to gasp in air, but find it clogged with rough particles that scratch at my throat and nose. I cough, hacking—

It's his magic!

I can't open my eyes to see it, but I know it. Think, Rosabella, I tell myself, What gets rid of a sandstorm? I clamp my eyes shut and try to ignore the howl of the wind and the pain in my eyes as I struggle to tap into the creator magic again, envisioning a huge vacuum far over my head, sucking up all the dust and sand, taking it out of the air so I can see—breathe!—again—

There!

Overhead, a loud, mechanical noise sound.

The sand spirals faster for a minute and, then begins to dissipate. I peel my smarting eyes open, just barely able to make out my surroundings. My throat is bone dry and my eyes, watery, even though I'd currently like them to be opposite.

Goran says he's not going to leave us alone? ...Well, then, there's only one thing left to do.

"If you won't let us be," I rasp, "Then I'm going to keep stopping you. Every punch you throw. Everything you do. I'll stop it. Just like this." My voice is so frail, but my chin is held high in determination as I push a strand of sandy hair out of my eyes, "You're going to have to face it, Goran; I'm stronger than you think."

I glare at the man, but he doesn't seem affected by my words in the least.

In fact, he looks smug. Like he's won the stuffed animal at the carnival game, and I didn't see it.

And it sets me off-balance as I wonder why his eyes are gleaming black like that. What's his next move? I have to wait for the creator magic to refill.

But Goran's fingers aren't swirling magic. Instead, he lifts his face grandiosely to the sky. "I don't need to face anything," he snickers, "but you and your so-called friends going to have to. Have it your way. Commandress! Emerge!" He yells the words into the dark clouds above, and colossal, bronze wings beat in the night air overhead—so large that they obscure the moon.

And my jaw drops.

Because the dragon the man had been riding is not only the largest dragon I've ever seen, but the whole sky is filled with them.

Hundreds of dragon silhouettes.

And they're carrying warriors on their backs, waving weapons and shouting—their army.

Who needs bridges when you have dragons? —Goddamn! They're easily—literally—flying over the damage that Dormouse inflicted!

Shock and hopelessness course through my limbs in a sickly toxin.

"What do we do?" I whisper as I notice Goran slip sideways and out of view.

And I don't know if Rainer has moved up or I've moved back, but the burly warrior is close enough to hear my plea. He turns to me, his brown eyes intense and pleading, "If there ever was a moment to fix The Game, it's right now, Rosabella. Callen said you could do it. I stand with Callen."

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

And there's such resolve in his voice—such belief.

...In me.

He believes in me.

And I'm the last shot—the last hope of a miracle.

And it's now or never.

I close my eyes again—ignoring the doubt rising in my heart.

Ignoring the flutter of the organ there.

Only listening.

To me.

To the strength inside.

To the creator magic.

And I feel it roar to life, ready again, after taking the battering from Goran.

Refilled.

Can I do this?

The darkness behind my eyelids greets me. This time, instead of leaning into it, I pull out from it. I imagine The Game world like a map and—strange. I see it!

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1111260514790686801/The_Game_Revised_1.jpg]

The bodies of water and the land—some green, some desert-brown where the darkness has infiltrated. I see it the way it is now. The city names are written in script, but some of them are crossed out with red x's which almost look written in marker or crayon. A hand drawn legend on the bottom marks them as 'fallen'. Those are probably the ones that were affected by the earthquakes and are all but deserted piles of rubble now... There are, also, black, scribbled lines scrawled across whole sections of the topography. I squint at them. It looks like the Darken have taken over those areas...

Grand Dragon? I ask inwardly to the echoing abyss around me, Are you there?

> Yes, child; I'm here.

A wave of security washes over me just hearing the beast's voice in my mind.

Where am I on the map now? I ask, waiting in the stillness for a reply.

> Here.

A red dot appears, glowing briefly on the map in about the middle. If I could only scroll in—

Oh! There!

I use two fingers in the air, moving them outward like I would on my cell phone in reality to enlarge something, and it zooms the image in.

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1111051350462173286/Screenshot_2023-05-24_180221.jpg]

I can easily read the words around a turreted building symbol: "The Temple".

Yes!

Three bridges are marked to the side...and all the black hatching.

> Rid the land of darkness and you will win this fight.

The Grand Dragon tells me clearly.

I stare at the black, scribbling marks across the page. But how do I fix it? And how do I know that, even if I do fix it, the army won't have already decimated Joy, Rainer, Dormouse and I? I have less than a few minutes while they hold them off—

> Do you trust me?

Trust?

The Grand Dragon?

I'm not sure. All I know is that I have to trust someone right now—I have to trust myself.

I squeeze eyes even further shut and imagine the map again. I imagine taking a pink eraser to the dark lines etching the surface, slowly erasing them—eliminating them from sight. I watch as the level of my creator magic, which had been refilling, whittles down again:

Then, I imagine greenery, flooding the land there instead.

Vibrant trees.

Lush grass. Life.

I imagine bringing life.

Blossoming flowers.

Running, clean water...

My eyes dart back and forth—rebuilding—underneath my closed eyelids. And I'm vaguely aware of an audible murmur running through the valley like a thousand voices seeing the same thing at the same time.

But the clanging of metal on metal and the smell of smoke is still there too.

An image of the decimated city I'd first entered The Game in flashes to life. And it sticks out like a sore thumb that I need to fix. Gathering all my energy into my mind, I begin dismantling the broken buildings and stacking them upward again—like working with little LEGO blocks.

I right the crumbled skyscrapers.

Repair the cracking sidewalks.

I replace building signs, fix broken parks and vending stands and plant lush plants...design landscaping and streets...

And there's a busy ease to the work, like playing a world-building video game. Sweat rolls down my forehead as I concentrate, using the creator magic and, then, waiting for it to refill before working again. Am I running out of time?

I hastily add one last thing—one last thing the city street needs: a Chinese restaurant on the corner.

And everything is finally as it should be.

Standing.

Upright.

Good.

...Now, for the final touch.

I flip a switch in my mind, and the power goes on. And I flip my eyes open at that exact moment, watching as a million, tiny windows flicker into brilliance on the horizon.

And the army freezes. I watch as all the dark shadows fighting Joy, Rainer and Dormouse turn to stare, unabashed, at the glowing city in the distance—a city that had been dark for years, now, lit up like a towering Christmas tree on the night horizon.

And I hear metal hitting the ground as they drop their weapons.

I balk at it.

The entire army is frozen in shock, staring between others and their repaired world.

I've done it but...

I gather my magic around me, relishing the feeling as I collect it, swinging it easily in my hands. And I pull any last remaining darkness towards me. Joy stands close enough to watch the Darken rash peel off her neck and back. The blackness dribbles towards me in the air like loose paint, and I whisk it away. I watch others in the army staring down in awe at healed hands and arms, bumping each other and grunting as they show the proof of their clear skin. And everyone turns to gawk at me as my hands begin to glow—

As my body begins to glow and tingle with radiating light—

> Keep fighting! You fools!

The enormous bronze dragon roars overhead, but the crowd barely responds except for muffled exclamations of 'She's a Game Maker!'.

One warrior shakes his thick fist at the sky and the looming dragon, "Why should we fight for you?! You burned our home—killed our loved ones unless we agreed to join you!"

"Yeah!" A host of voices shouts in agreement.

It looks like the dragons are in agreement too. A group of smaller ones circle the largest beast, all spitting and hissing, forcing it backwards and down to the ground.

And I turn in shock towards the Game Wardens.

My friends.

To find their jaws almost on the ground.

"She's—"Rainer stumbles, gesturing at me, "Rosabella, you're glowing—"

Joy leans a jesting elbow on the burly warrior's shoulder, "How come no one ever says that about me?"

Dormouse stifles a giggle.

And, for a second, it's almost like everything is okay.

Like we're still all in one piece.

Like I just saved the world.

I stifle a blooming smile. "Guys, I—I think I did it!" I squeak. And my cheeks hurt from the wide grin, but the rest of me is okay. The rest of us are okay! A familiar set of blue boxes pops into view:

***Level Passed!***

***Shadows of The Past, Faced: Emotional Intelligence +20, Determination +10***

GAME MAKER ROSABELLA Strength +15 - 45/100 Endurance +10 - 35/100 Agility +2 - 26/100 Intelligence +2 - 50/100 Emotional Intelligence +20 - 70/100 Empathy - 39/100 Determination +10 - 85/100 Prophesy - 100/100 Creator - 90/100

And I feel...proud.

I did this.

I took control, and I finally made something beautiful. It's an amazing feeling. I could have stood there, feeling like that for days...weeks? I could have relished the feeling forever, just sinking into it, but I catch Dormouse out of the corner of my eye.

...And his face looks...

Frazzled.

He throws an anxious hand through his wavy, black hair, "Hey—uh, guys. You might want to see this."

It only takes three, large steps to get to the wall the kid is gesturing towards, and I reach it first, glancing at the nerd while I do—why is his face so white?

That's when I see it.

A message, cut into the plaster wall of the Temple in jagged, red letters:

IF I CAN'T HAVE HER, NO ONE CAN. I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL. GOODBYE, GAME. GOODBYE, ROSIE.

My heart hammers in my chest. My stomach twists.

Goddammit, Goran!