CHAPTER 2: Not His World Anymore
Samuel felt like he was falling.
Not the normal kind of falling… this was different. It was like his body had no weight, like reality itself had let go of him.
Then—
He hit the ground.
Hard.
"Ahh!" he groaned, quickly sitting up.
The air felt strange. Thick. Metallic.
He looked around.
And his heart stopped.
It was the same place.
The marketplace.
The one from his phone.
Metal tools hung from rusted racks. Wires stretched across broken poles. Flickering lights buzzed overhead. The ground was dusty, like no one had cleaned it in years.
But people were there.
Walking.
Moving.
Living.
Yet something was… wrong.
A man walked past Samuel—then suddenly jerked backward and repeated the same steps again.
Like a broken video.
A woman picked up a tool… dropped it… picked it up again… dropped it again.
Over and over.
Samuel stood slowly, fear building in his chest.
"This… this isn't real…"
A loud glitch sound echoed through the air.
BZzztt—
Everything froze.
For one second… complete silence.
Then—
Everything resumed.
Samuel stumbled back.
"No… no, I need to wake up…"
He slapped his face.
Nothing changed.
He looked down.
His phone was still in his hand.
The screen turned on by itself.
A message appeared:
"Welcome to Draft 1."
Samuel's breathing became faster.
"Draft…?"
Another message appeared:
"Unfinished world. Unfinished people. Unfinished story."
Samuel shook his head.
"I didn't write this… I didn't create this…"
A soft voice spoke behind him.
"Yes… you did."
Samuel spun around quickly.
A girl stood a few steps away from him.
She looked normal—but not fully.
Parts of her flickered, like weak signal on a screen. Her eyes were sharp, serious… like she had been here for a long time.
"Who are you?" Samuel asked.
"My name is Mira," she said calmly.
Samuel pointed at everything around them.
"Where is this place? What is going on? Why are those people glitching?!"
Mira looked around, almost… tired.
"They're not people," she said quietly.
Samuel froze.
"What do you mean…?"
"They're ideas," she replied.
"Unfinished characters. Half-written lives. They repeat because their stories were never completed."
Samuel's heart pounded.
"That's not possible…"
Mira stepped closer.
"You opened the page," she said.
"You saw the message."
Samuel swallowed.
"…Yes."
Mira looked directly into his eyes.
"Then that means you're the Writer."
Silence.
Samuel shook his head immediately.
"No. No, I'm not. I didn't write anything!"
Mira pointed at his phone.
"Then why does the world respond to you?"
Samuel slowly looked down at it.
The screen lit up again.
A blinking cursor appeared.
Waiting.
Mira spoke again, her voice serious now.
"Try it."
Samuel hesitated.
"Try what?"
"Write something," she said.
"Anything."
Samuel's hands trembled.
Slowly… he typed:
"The lights stop flickering."
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then suddenly—
The buzzing lights above them stabilized.
No more flicker.
Everything became… steady.
Samuel's eyes widened.
"No way…"
He looked at Mira.
Mira wasn't surprised.
She just nodded.
"Now you understand."
Samuel stepped back slowly.
"This… this means…"
Mira finished his sentence:
"You can change reality here."
A deep, distorted voice suddenly echoed across the marketplace.
"Not… for long."
Everything froze again.
The air became heavy.
The lights dimmed.
Samuel felt fear crawl through his body.
"W-what was that…?"
Mira's expression changed for the first time.
Fear.
Real fear.
She whispered:
"He's watching…"
"Who?" Samuel asked.
Mira looked up into the dark sky.
"The one who writes back."