I was sure then to never tell Harriet about the existence of Imperfect Knight and her being fictitious.
Wings made of skin and bones and veins pushed through the skin near his spine, eventually ripping and unsnarling out of his body.
All the meat in Justin's bones dissolved, his ribcage was obvious even from afar.
"Harriet," said I, turning around. "Leave the chamber for a moment."
She was baffled at this.
"What. Why?" I stood in front of her now, almost shielding her eyes from the scene. She moved her hair to look anyway. "He's going insane!"
"That much I can tell." I hugged her, feeling the warmth from her body reach her head. "I have a plan."
For a moment, she was skeptical, her body stiff in my arms. But, in due course, she eased into my body.
"Yell if you need help."
Opening the tall wooden but ancient door, she left.
I turned around to face Justin, who was writhing in pain.
"Argh…!"
He was more akin to a devilman with the face of a behemoth now.
Eyeballs bursting, a pair of horns forced their way out.
His voice was just as gruesome.
[Re…verie..!"
"Yes, yes, Justin," I said calmly, still holding the torch in one hand.
I walked closer to him.
There was still some sense, despite having lost control, in Justin's head, for he walked away with every step I took.
He tripped on the rims of the pool of liquid, coating himself in the liquid.
I had difficulty remembering it, but I was sure now.
I tipped the flame of the torch into the oil that Justin landed on.
-
It was strange to someone like Justin Fleming when he was invited by his circle of friends to apply at NASA.
As a child, Justin knew better that becoming an astronaut, despite it being his dream, was unrealistic.
The most he could do was work as an engineer behind the scenes.
But, even then, his parents had refused him to take aeronautical engineering.
By their words, "You are far too precious to us."
A clear lie, even to the younger version of Justin. What they truly meant was that, though he was healthy, he was incompetent.
Right.
When he was first asked by Chris if he wanted to join them in the journey of mankind's first step on the moon, he was ecstatic.
At least, that was how he remembered it.
He first met Reverie in high school after Chris introduced him.
Since then, they have been friends for more than ten years.
Right?
Right?
Justin couldn't help the sunken feeling in his stomach.
Why was he so surprised upon meeting Reverie on the train when they'd seen each other a few days ago?
Why was his presence so unfamiliar to him?
Upon meeting Reverie Schneider, memories he did not recall belonging to him surfaced.
It was at the dungeon when it happened.
Tired of walking, Justin told the rest to move on. They didn't seem to realize the same breakthrough as he did.
In truth, he was waiting for the leftover members, Harriet, and mostly, Reverie.
As he sat on the rims of the pool of the chamber, he contemplated the memories he received.
A story unfamiliar to him: Imperfections of a Knight.
In the memories he received, it was all but contradictions, like an alternate universe.
In this universe, Justin had a heart disease.
Reverie and him met during their first year at college.
The lives of Chris, Harriet, Richard, Beatrice, George, and Jack were non-existent, for they were fictional.
For a moment, he could've sworn he saw a white figure, but he ignored it.
What did that make Justin then?
A being that existed in two worlds, that was what he managed to understand.
It was strange, this dungeon, for it happened to be built, in the universe where Imperfect Knight existed, like the dormitory of their college.
He did not understand that part at all.
As for the chamber he stood in, it looked like the fountain in the lobby of the dormitory.
The only difference were the torches that were now fixed on the walls.
But Justin had a feeling that could never be erased.
His love for Imperfections of a Knight.
From the memories he now shared with the actual Justin, the story was sub-par, but the characters felt so alive.
I suppose, thought Justin, blowing into his palms, they are reality now.
Archie shouldn't have done what he did to Reverie.
And Reverie shouldn't have stopped writing Imperfect Knight because of what he did.
Now, he stood in front of a duo, but his eyes only focused on Reverie Schneider.
"I resent you so much, Reverie!"
His golden hazel eyes appeared to glimmer, nearly tearing up, under the red flame of the torch he held.
He shouldn't have said that. But the information he received was too massive to simply ignore.
Why did Reverie create him? For the enjoyment of other people, his readers, or for the sake of the actual Justin?
Reverie approached him, slowly and gradually, torch in hand.
Afraid that he may accidentally hurt him, Justin avoided him, taking a step backwards.
The story cannot end without its author. And Reverie, being the writer of the current reality, must be present at its peak and ending.
Moments after falling onto the pool which was less shallow than he realized, he noticed that the liquid left residue on his skin.
Oil?
Justin watched him as Reverie bent over and lit the oil.
At once, more of the memories from another world came to him.
Justin's only wish was to witness the ending alongside Reverie.
Abruptly, flames burst from nothing. It flickered like candlelight, the ember spreading in the pool of liquid.
Justin, who he himself reckoned could not be recognized by his fictional circle of friends, let it all happen.
He did not fight back for one simple reason.
As my final act of love, his last thoughts leaked as his skin, roaring in a sea of flames, dissolved into nothingness, I will become unrecognizable to the author for the sake of the movement of the plot.