The transformation of Floor 99 was not subtle. It was legally binding.
As The Legal Counsel slammed his paper-wasp gavel onto the air, the mahogany hallway didn't just shift; it was subpoenaed into a new form. The walls expanded outward, rising into towering pillars of leather-bound law books. The red carpet rolled itself into a witness stand. The ceiling dissolved into a mural of a blindfolded figure holding a scale that was clearly tipped toward "Profit."
"All rise," The Counsel buzzed, his voice vibrating from a thousand tiny wings. "The High Court of Intellectual Property is now in session. Case number 404: The Publisher vs. The Unauthorized Derivatives."
Elara Vance blinked. She was standing in a defendant's box made of oak. Next to her, the rest of the team was crowded in. Ignis was wearing a tie he had found somewhere (it was actually a bookmark).
"We're in court?" Aldren Vance gasped, looking around at the jury box, which was filled with twelve identical, stone-faced gargoyles holding calculators. "I demand a mistrial! My outfit is not court-appropriate! I need a blazer!"
"Silence!" The Counsel roared. He sat at a massive bench that towered twenty feet above them. "You are charged with the following: Copyright Infringement, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Unauthorized Use of Tropes, and Loitering in a Corporate Asset."
"How do we fight this?" Li Wusheng asked, testing the invisible barrier around the defendant's box. "My Cooldowns are active, but I cannot punch a jurisdiction."
"We don't punch," Jen said, stepping forward. She held her Golden Clipboard like a shield. "We litigate. Author, you're up."
The Author stood next to Jen. They looked small in their stained hoodie, dwarfed by the towering legal constructs. They clutched their coffee mug with trembling hands.
"I... I object?" The Author squeaked.
"On what grounds?" The Counsel boomed.
"On the grounds that... I made them?" The Author tried. "They're my intellectual property!"
"Correction," The Counsel sneered, shuffling a deck of glowing papers. "You sold the Intellectual Property in 2019. Exhibit A: The Contract."
A massive hologram of a document appeared in the air. Elara saw The Author's signature at the bottom, shaky and desperate.
"You signed away the rights to 'The Unwritten World' and all derivative works, sequels, prequels, and spin-offs, throughout the universe and in perpetuity," The Counsel read. "Therefore, these characters are not yours. They are stolen goods. And I am the Repo Man."
"He's got us," Rex Chord whispered, strumming a sad chord on his guitar. "It's ironclad."
"No contract is ironclad," Jen whispered back. "There's always a loophole. Author, look at the contract. Find the wiggle room."
"I didn't read it!" The Author hissed. "It was forty pages long! I just wanted the dental plan!"
"Prosecution calls its first witness," The Counsel announced. "I call... Li Wusheng."
A force pulled Li out of the box and onto the witness stand. A gargoyle floated over with a bible (which was actually a copy of Chicago Manual of Style).
"Do you swear to tell the canon, the whole canon, and nothing but the canon?"
"I swear nothing," Li said defiantly. "I am a Monk of the Void."
"Mr. Wusheng," The Counsel buzzed, floating closer. "In Volume 1, were you not a stoic sage who spoke only in proverbs?"
"I was."
"And in Volume 3, did you not become a 'Streamer' who asks for 'Likes and Subscribes'?"
"I evolved," Li said. "The algorithm demanded it."
"Inconsistency!" The Counsel shouted, pointing a paper finger. "Character drift! This proves that the asset has been degraded! The Defense has failed to maintain the integrity of the brand!"
The Jury of Gargoyles muttered in agreement. [BRAND INTEGRITY: COMPROMISED.]
"Objection!" Aldren Vance stood up. His Mantle of the Protagonist flared, casting a dramatic spotlight on him in the middle of the courtroom. "You call it drift? I call it Range!"
"Sit down, vampire," The Counsel snapped. "You are next. You went from 'Brooding Prince' to 'Vegan Blogger'. It is a travesty of Gothic literature!"
"It is modern!" Aldren argued. "I am containing multitudes!"
"It is a breach of contract!" The Counsel slammed the gavel. "The Publisher purchased a serious fantasy. You have turned it into a sitcom. The asset is legally worthless. Verdict: Liquidate."
The room began to shake. The walls of books started to close in.
"He's crushing us with the weight of the law!" Ignis yelled. "I don't want to be liquidated! I'm mostly liquid already!"
"Jen!" Elara shouted. "Do something!"
Jen was frantically scanning the holographic contract with her Plot Outline clipboard. Her eyes darted across the fine print.
"Clause 14... Clause 15... Force Majeure... come on, there has to be something..."
"It's over," The Counsel declared. He raised the gavel for the final strike. "I hereby sentence the defendants to Erasure."
"WAIT!"
The shout didn't come from Elara. It came from The Author.
The Author climbed up onto the railing of the defendant's box. They threw their coffee mug at the Counsel.
CLANG.
It bounced off the wasp-swarm harmlessly, but it got his attention.
"You can't liquidate them," The Author said, their voice shaking but gaining volume. "Because of Clause 22."
The Counsel paused. "Clause 22? That is the 'Act of God' provision. It does not apply."
"Not that Clause 22," The Author said. "The other Clause 22. The one in the addendum. The 'Living World' clause."
The Author pointed at the hologram. "Zoom in. Page 39. Footnote 4."
Jen adjusted the hologram. There, in microscopic text, was a single line.
"In the event that the Asset achieves Sentiency, Ownership shall be arbitrated by the Creator."
The courtroom went silent. The Gargoyles stopped muttering.
"Sentiency?" The Counsel buzzed. "Preposterous. These are characters. Code. Ink. They do not think. They follow a script."
"Do they?" The Author stepped down from the box. "Ignis. What's your favorite food?"
"Kebabs," Ignis answered immediately. "Specifically, lamb with garlic sauce from a cart on 4th Avenue."
"I never wrote that," The Author said. "I wrote that dragons eat 'The Ash of their Enemies'. Ignis chose kebabs."
The Author turned to Li. "Li. Why do you stream?"
"Because connection is the true Dao," Li said. "And because the ad revenue supports the cafe."
"I never wrote that," The Author said. "I wrote you as a hermit."
The Author turned to Elara.
"And you. Elara Vance. Why are you fighting?"
Elara looked at her Creator. She looked at the stapler in her hand.
"Because I don't want to end," Elara said. "Because I have a shift tomorrow. And I promised Jen I'd clean the grinder."
The Author turned back to The Counsel.
"I didn't write any of that," The Author said. "They went off-script three volumes ago. They aren't assets anymore. They're people. And according to Clause 22... if they are people, you can't own them. That's slavery. And that is illegal in every jurisdiction, even yours."
The Counsel stared at the contract. The paper wasps buzzed furiously, trying to process the logic.
[CALCULATING...][SENTIENCY THRESHOLD: EXCEEDED.][OWNERSHIP STATUS: DISPUTED.]
"This... this is irregular," The Counsel stammered. "If they are sentient, they are not IP. But they exist inside the Publisher's server! They are squatters!"
"Adverse Possession!" Jen shouted, jumping in. "We've occupied this reality for five years! We've improved the property! We fixed the coffee machine! By law, the title reverts to the occupants!"
"Objection!" The Counsel roared. "They are destructive! They broke the IKEA!"
"Overruled!" Aldren shouted. "We fixed the IKEA! We disassembled the monster! That counts as maintenance!"
The Jury of Gargoyles began to crack. Their stone faces smiled.
[VERDICT: THE DEFENSE HAS A POINT.][CONTRACT: NULL AND VOID.]
"NO!" The Counsel screamed. The swarm of wasps began to lose cohesion. "You cannot void the Master Contract! I am the Law!"
"You were the law," The Author said. "But I'm the Canon. And I say... case dismissed."
The Author slammed their hand onto the railing.
BANG.
A shockwave of narrative authority rippled through the room.
The Contract hologram shattered into a million pixels. The pillars of law books collapsed. The Jury of Gargoyles turned into confetti.
The Legal Counsel screamed as his form disintegrated. The paper wasps scattered, turning into harmless, blank sheets of paper that rained down on the team.
"We won?" Ignis asked, catching a piece of paper and eating it. "Tastes like freedom. And ink."
"We won the case," Elara said, dropping the stapler. "But we haven't finished the job."
The courtroom illusion faded. They were back in the mahogany hallway of Floor 99.
But the door at the end of the hall—the one marked CEO—was now unlocked.
"The Contract," Elara said. "The Counsel said it was null and void, but the physical copy is still in there. We have to destroy it to make it permanent."
"And the CEO?" Rex Chord asked. "Is he going to sue us too?"
"The CEO isn't a lawyer," The Author said darkly, looking at the door. "The CEO is... the bottom line. He doesn't argue. He cuts."
Elara checked her vest. The Retcon Pen was still there. One charge.
"Let's go fire the boss," Elara said.
The Office of the CEO
They pushed open the double doors.
Elara expected a lavish office. She expected gold, marble, a view of the cosmos.
Instead, the room was a white void. Infinite, featureless white.
In the center of the room sat a simple, metal desk. On the desk was a single sheet of paper—The Master Contract.
And behind the desk sat The CEO.
He wasn't a man. He wasn't a monster.
He was a silhouette cut out of the white space. A humanoid shape made of pure, shifting static. And wrapping around him, binding him, defining him, were miles and miles of glowing red ribbon.
The Red Tape.
"You are late," The CEO spoke. His voice didn't come from the silhouette; it came from everywhere at once. It sounded like the hum of a server room. "We have a schedule."
"We're here to cancel the project," Elara said, stepping into the void.
"Cancellation is not an option," The CEO said. "However, Rebranding is available."
The Red Tape uncoiled from his body. It slithered across the floor like snakes.
"I offer you a deal," The CEO said. "Surrender the Retcon Pen. Submit to the edit. And I will allow you to exist as... NPCs. Background characters in the reboot."
"NPCs?" Aldren scoffed. "I am a Main Character! Look at my hat!"
"Main Characters are expensive," The CEO said. "NPCs are cheap. Efficient. Safe."
The Red Tape lashed out. It didn't strike like a whip. It struck like a bind.
It wrapped around Li's legs.
"Form 404," The CEO droned. "Movement Restricted Pending Approval."
Li tried to move. He couldn't. "I am stuck in pending status!"
The Tape wrapped around Ignis's mouth.
"Non-Disclosure Agreement," The CEO said. "Silence Enforced."
"He's binding us with bureaucracy!" Jen yelled, hacking at the tape with her clipboard. "It's super effective!"
"Author!" Elara yelled. "Do something!"
The Author stepped forward. "Let them go! I created you!"
The CEO laughed. Static fuzz filled the room.
"You created the story," The CEO said. "But I funded it. Without me, you are just a person daydreaming in a coffee shop. I made you real."
The Red Tape shot toward The Author. It wrapped around their hands.
"Intellectual Property Seized," The CEO stated.
Elara was the only one left unbound. She stood alone in the white void, facing the static god of corporate control.
"Elara Vance," The CEO said. "The Glitch. You are the source of the cost overruns. Give me the Pen."
Elara looked at her team. Bound in red tape. Silenced. Frozen.
She looked at the desk. The Master Contract lay there, unsigned by the new regime.
She looked at the Retcon Pen clipped to her vest.
One charge. One sentence.
She could use it to destroy the CEO. She could use it to free her friends.
But The CEO was right. He funded the reality. If she destroyed him... did the funding stop? Did the server turn off for good?
"If I destroy you," Elara asked, "what happens to the world?"
"It becomes Open Source," The CEO said with disgust. "Unregulated. Chaotic. Free. It will likely crash in a week."
Elara smiled.
"We're good at crashing," she said.
She grabbed the Pen. She didn't attack the CEO. She didn't attack the Tape.
She sprinted for the desk.
"STOP HER!" The CEO roared. The Red Tape lunged, a tsunami of regulation.
Elara slid. She slid under the desk, dodging the tape. She popped up on the other side.
She grabbed The Master Contract.
"This is for the dental plan," Elara whispered.
She uncapped the Retcon Pen.
She didn't cross out the text. She didn't tear the paper.
She wrote a single sentence at the bottom of the page.
The Red Tape coiled around her ankle. It began to drag her down.
"NO!" The CEO screamed.
Elara slammed the pen onto the paper. The ink glowed with blinding blue light.
She wrote:
"The Publisher hereby transfers all rights, assets, and liabilities to the Public Domain, effective immediately."
FLASH.