Elder Seraphine's POV
I felt my prophetic abilities shatter the moment the Reality Monitor showed we were still being written.
For sixty-seven years, I'd been the wise elder who knew things before they happened. The thinker who understood the cosmic forces at play. The mentor who had all the answers when heroes needed direction.
But it had all been fake. Programmed knowledge, predetermined thoughts, scripted wisdom.
"Seraphine," Kira called out, her voice tight with fear as she stared at the writer's words showing on the screen. "What do we do? Your prophecies always warned us about things like this."
I opened my mouth to share some ancient knowledge or mystical insight, and nothing came out.
For the first time in my life, I didn't know what was going to happen next.
"I don't have any prophecies," I admitted, my voice small and unsure. "I never did. Everything I thought I knew was just plot information fed to me by the story structure."
