For once, there was quiet.
No screaming chairs. No divine paperwork. No jam-based uprisings.
Just a weird little clearing beside a lake that didn't reflect our faces—only our memories.
Arc called it "Chronoglass." Grubnuk called it "Shiny Soup."
We called it… camp.
Kevin roasted marshmallows while mumbling his fanfiction aloud. Mortax was lounging under a glowing tree reading a book titled Peace and Quiet (A Myth).
Plotbert hovered gently, softly humming elevator music.
> "This is nice," Lyria said, curling up by the fire.
> "Too nice," I replied.
A frog in a top hat floated by on a lily pad. He tipped his hat and said, "Sup." Then vanished into a ripple of jazz.
Arc blinked. "Weird lake."
Kevin giggled. "I think it just showed me my third-grade math test. I cried again."
The lake shimmered. It showed me a moment I barely remembered:
Me. Before all this. Before swords, sarcasm, and squirrel gods. Just me. On a rainy day. Eating cereal. Dreaming of stories.
> "You okay?" Lyria asked, noticing my stare.
> "Yeah," I lied.
Plotbert drifted close.
> "You've changed more than you realize. Don't worry. It's not all bad edits."
I actually smiled.
Grubnuk tried to toast a pinecone. Clucksworth found a harmonica and played what could only be described as emotional chaos jazz.
We laughed.
And for one brief, bizarre, beautiful night—we didn't run. We didn't fight. We didn't question the talking log giving relationship advice.
We just… existed.
The stars twinkled like forgotten footnotes. Time slowed, then sighed, and tucked us all into narrative sleep.
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End of Chapter 45 (Peace achieved. Weirdness mandatory. Dreams incoming.)