The forest outside our town has never seemed so alive. The glowing stones I created earlier guide the way like faint stars strewn along the ground, illuminating a narrow path through the trees. Each step I take feels weighted, not just by the mud and roots beneath my feet, but by the knowledge that every word I've written, every creation I've made, has consequences.
Lorean sticks close to my side, her small hand gripping mine tightly. Her eyes, wide with wonder and fear, reflect the soft glow of the stones.
"Are you sure this is safe?" she whispers.
I squeeze her hand. "As safe as we can make it. But remember… the notebook listens. And it reacts."
The deeper we go, the more the forest seems to respond to our presence. Branches shift as if nudged by invisible hands, leaves whisper like distant voices. My skin pricks with the awareness that we are not alone. Varek could be anywhere—watching, waiting, calculating.
I reach into my bag and pull out the notebook. The leather feels warm against my fingers, pulsing faintly.
"This is going to be dangerous," I murmur. "But we need answers. We need to know what he's done with the other book, and why he took Mom and Dad."
Lorean nods, her grip tightening. "Then we do it together."
I open the notebook and flip to a fresh page. My pencil hovers uncertainly. I need something bold, something that will reveal the truth.
A vision of Varek's universe appears before us, showing the world he controls and the book he wields.
The pencil moves across the page as if guided by unseen hands. A shimmer rises from the notebook, enveloping us in a haze of light and color. The forest around us fades, replaced by a strange, warped version of reality.
We see it: a twisted, magnificent kingdom, built entirely of the antagonist's will. Cities of black stone rise impossibly high, rivers of molten silver wind through them. The sky glows a deep crimson, and in the center stands a massive tower—Varek's throne.
And there, in the very heart of the world, he sits. Calm. Commanding. Everything bends to his control.
Lorean gasps. "It's… his creation. He's… God there."
"Yes," I whisper. "But not entirely. There's a flaw. The notebook he has—without the second book, his control isn't complete. That's why he needs ours."
A shiver runs down my spine. I feel the danger of our position more sharply than ever. If Varek finds our notebook… if he completes the two together… everything we know, everything we love, will be erased or rewritten.
I close the vision slowly, gasping for breath. The forest reappears around us, ordinary and silent, the glowing stones flickering faintly as if unsure we're still worthy of their guidance.
"Do you understand now?" I ask Lorean. "We're not just trying to save Mom and Dad. We're trying to stop him from reshaping the entire world."
Her face pales, and she shakes her head. "I… I don't know if I can do this, Wren."
I take her hand, holding it tightly. "You don't have to do it alone. We'll figure it out… together."
I glance down at the notebook. It seems to hum in response, warm and alive against my hands. I realize, with a shiver, that we've crossed a line.
Small creations no longer feel sufficient. We need power, precision, and understanding.
And every time I write… reality shifts.
I can feel it. I can almost see the strings of fate twisting, weaving, pulling us toward inevitable confrontation.
Somewhere, in that other universe, Varek knows we've begun. He can sense the awakening of our book. And he will come for us.
As night falls in the forest, I tuck the notebook safely under my coat. Lorean and I sit by a small stream, listening to the water ripple. My mind races, thinking about what to do next.
We can't fight him directly—not yet.
We can't confront him in his universe—not yet.
But we can prepare.
And I realize, with a thrill of fear and determination, that the first step toward victory is understanding the full scope of the notebook.
The first step toward saving our parents… may also be the most dangerous thing we've ever done.