The world outside roared in chaos. Gronach's hulking shadow stretched across the city skyline, his guttural growls reverberating like thunder. Nia sat frozen on her knees, staring at her ink stained hands like it was not really her own hands she was seeing. She felt hollow inside, her mind a storm of fear and helplessness.
Her thoughts churned. How had it come to this? She was a writer, a creator, a master of her own worlds. Now, she was a pawn in a story that had slipped beyond her control. She was master of her own creators but now her creations has fell out of her hands.
The sound of splintering wood jolted her out of her stupor. Her apartment door had burst open, and a figure staggered in a young man, bloodied and wide eyed and inosent but handsome features with big brown eyesand about 5.9 height he was nothing like tht monstrosity Jax .He looked like a ray of sunshine in all the darkness and chaos. He looked at her, then at the wreckage of her desk, and back to her again.
“You... you’re the writer,” he gasped, clutching his side.
“Who are you?” Nia asked, scrambling to her feet. Her voice was thin, trembling.
“I’m from your story,” he said, wincing in pain. “Eli Wynn". You created me to lead the rebellion against Jax. Don’t you remember?”
The memory hit her like a cold wave. She had written Eli as a charismatic revolutionary, someone who believed in justice but was haunted by loss.He was a believer but His arc was supposed to be a tragic one he was destined to fail.
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“You’re not supposed to be here,” Nia whispered.
“None of us are supposed to be here,” Eli shot back. “But your words brought us here, and now we’re all trapped.”And now you have to stop this madness and choes.
Before she could respond, the ground shook violently like a earthquake. A deep, resonant roar followed, louder than before. Gronach was getting closer.
“We don’t have time,” Eli said, his voice urgent. “If we don’t stop him, this entire world ,your world will be destroyed into pieces.”
Nia shook her head, panic rising. “I can’t stop him. I tried to rewrite the story, but I can’t. It’s out of my hands!”
We have to try “Then we need to find the heart,” Eli said.
“The heart?”
Eli nodded, his expression grim. “Every story has a heart. A core where its essence of lives. If we can reach it and maybe we could rewrite this mess and fix what’s happening here.”
Nia’s breath caught. She had written about the heart once a mythical concept, a place where every stories began and ended. She had thought of it as a metaphor, a poetic flourish. But if her creations were here, alive, then perhaps the heart was real too and I have to find it for this worlds sake.
“How do we find it?” she asked, her voice unsteady but firm and resolute .
Eli hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder toward the window. “We have to go through the chaos. Through the parts of your story you left unfinished.”
Her unfinished stories. The thought sent a chill through her. She had written countless tales over the years half-formed ideas, abandoned drafts, entire worlds she had left incomplete. What horrors might lurk within them?
A sudden crash brought their attention back to the window. Gronach was closer now, his monstrous form towering over the buildings. He raised a clawed hand, swiping at the air, and the apartment building across the street crumbled like sand dust and paper.
“We have to move,” Eli urged.
Nia’s legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to follow as Eli led her toward the door. “Why are you helping me?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Because you wrote me to care,” he said simply. “Even if it’s killing me.”