**EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND TEN**
**THE SECOND CHARACTER**
---
BLACK SCREEN.
No sound.
No movement.
No time.
Then...
SCRATCH.
A single word appeared.
NOVA.
SCRATCH.
Another.
MISSING.
SCRATCH.
Another.
FOUND.
The words disappeared.
A door appeared.
The same door.
But different.
It was no longer black.
It was red.
A deep red.
Almost the color of blood.
Nova stood before it.
The woman stood on the other side.
Still holding the red pencil.
Still smiling.
Nova stared at her.
"Who are you?"
She didn't answer.
Instead...
she raised the pencil.
And drew a line across the air.
The line became a door.
Nova stepped backward.
"Stop."
The woman smiled.
"You used to like doors."
"I don't know you."
"You will."
"Who are you?"
The woman finally answered.
"My name is not important."
"Then what is?"
She looked at him.
"Why I was created."
Nova's expression changed.
"You said I created you."
"I did."
"When?"
"Before you remembered yourself."
Nova shook his head.
"That doesn't make sense."
The woman smiled.
"You've spent your entire existence saying that."
---
The red door opened.
Behind it...
was the white room.
But the white room was empty.
No older man.
No child.
No writer.
No book.
Only a chair.
Nova entered.
The woman followed.
The door disappeared behind them.
Nova looked around.
"Where are they?"
"Who?"
"The others."
"The Dreamer?"
"Yes."
"The Reader?"
"Yes."
"The Author?"
"Yes."
"The child."
"The older man."
"All of them."
The woman looked at the empty chair.
"They were never separate."
Nova frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"They were roles."
"Roles?"
"Memories wearing faces."
Nova stared at her.
"And you?"
She smiled.
"I am a question wearing a face."
Nova stepped closer.
"What question?"
The woman leaned toward him.
"Why did you need me?"
Nova didn't answer.
The room became colder.
---
A book appeared on the chair.
Nova recognized it.
The same book.
The one that had followed him through everything.
He approached.
The woman stopped him.
"Don't."
Nova looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because this time, the book is reading you."
Nova froze.
The cover opened.
A page turned.
Then another.
Then another.
Words appeared.
NOVA IS LOOKING AT THE BOOK.
Another line.
THE BOOK IS LOOKING BACK.
Nova stepped away.
The page changed.
THE SECOND CHARACTER IS AFRAID.
Nova looked at the woman.
She was no longer smiling.
"That's not true."
The page changed.
THE SECOND CHARACTER IS LYING.
She whispered:
"Close it."
Nova didn't move.
The page changed again.
SHE REMEMBERS WHO KILLED THE FIRST STORY.
Nova stared.
"What?"
The woman rushed toward the book.
Nova grabbed it first.
"Who killed the first story?"
The woman stopped.
Silence.
Nova looked at her.
"You know."
She shook her head.
"I remember."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
She looked frightened.
"Because the moment I say the name..."
The lights went out.
"...the story will hear it."
---
Darkness.
Nova couldn't see the woman.
He couldn't see his own hands.
Then...
a whisper.
"Don't say it."
Nova turned.
"Who said that?"
Nothing.
Another whisper.
"Don't remember."
Nova stepped forward.
"Who are you?"
A different voice answered.
"You already asked that."
Nova froze.
It was his own voice.
He looked around.
"Where are you?"
"Behind you."
Nova turned.
Nothing.
"Where?"
"Inside you."
Nova stopped breathing.
The voice continued.
"You've been carrying me since the beginning."
Nova whispered:
"Who are you?"
The voice said:
"The first mistake."
---
Light returned.
The woman was gone.
The book was gone.
The white room was gone.
Nova stood in a forest.
Rain.
Thunder.
Trees.
Mud.
A broken machine lay nearby.
Nova recognized it.
The laboratory.
But it wasn't the laboratory he remembered.
It was older.
Much older.
Rust covered the walls.
The machine was half buried.
A screen flickered.
Nova approached.
One line appeared.
YEAR:
BLANK.
Another.
SUBJECT:
BLANK.
Another.
STATUS:
BEFORE HUMANITY.
Nova stared.
A sound came from inside the machine.
CLICK.
CLICK.
CLICK.
The door opened.
Inside...
was a child.
Not the red-pencil child.
Another child.
A boy.
Perhaps eight years old.
He was asleep.
Nova stepped closer.
The child opened his eyes.
"You're here."
Nova froze.
"Who are you?"
The boy smiled.
"The first version."
"Of what?"
"Me."
Nova frowned.
"You're the second character?"
The boy shook his head.
"No."
"Then?"
"The second attempt."
Nova stepped backward.
"Attempt at what?"
The boy answered:
"Creating you."
---
The forest disappeared.
Nova was back in the white room.
The woman stood beside the chair.
She was holding the red pencil.
Nova looked at her.
"You knew."
She nodded.
"Yes."
"The child."
"Was an attempt."
"At creating me?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't it work?"
She looked away.
"Because he became himself."
Nova stared.
"What does that mean?"
"He wasn't supposed to have a story."
"And he did?"
"He wrote one."
Nova's face hardened.
"What happened to him?"
The woman whispered:
"He became the first character."
Nova remembered.
The first character.
The one who had awakened before him.
The one whose memory was contagious.
Nova asked:
"Is he still alive?"
The woman looked directly at him.
"Characters don't die."
"Then where is he?"
"Everywhere you have been."
Nova felt a chill.
"He was me."
"No."
"Then who?"
She answered:
"Your predecessor."
---
A sound came from the floor.
SCRATCH.
The red pencil moved by itself.
It wrote:
THE FIRST CHARACTER IS NOT THE FIRST.
Nova stared.
The woman whispered:
"Don't read the next line."
The pencil continued.
THE SECOND CHARACTER IS NOT THE SECOND.
Another line.
THE NUMBERS ARE A LIE.
Nova looked at the woman.
"What does that mean?"
She said:
"The story doesn't move forward."
"Then how?"
"In circles."
"Why?"
"Because someone keeps trying to reach the beginning."
Nova looked at the pencil.
"Who?"
The pencil stopped.
Then wrote:
NOVA.
Nova froze.
"Me?"
The woman nodded.
"Yes."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you forgot something."
"What?"
She stepped closer.
"You forgot the ending."
---
The white room cracked.
A massive sound rolled through reality.
BOOM.
The walls opened.
Behind them...
millions of pages.
Each page contained a different Nova.
Nova as a child.
Nova as a scientist.
Nova as a soldier.
Nova as a machine.
Nova as a writer.
Nova as a reader.
Nova as a dream.
Nova as a memory.
Nova as nothing.
But one page was different.
It showed Nova standing beside the woman.
Both holding pencils.
Nova stared.
"That's us."
"Yes."
"When?"
"After."
"After what?"
She smiled sadly.
"After you destroy the story."
Nova stepped backward.
"I would never do that."
"You already did."
---
The pages began falling.
One after another.
Each time a page touched the ground...
a world disappeared.
A city.
A planet.
A universe.
A memory.
A childhood.
A name.
Nova shouted:
"Stop!"
The woman didn't move.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"You're the second character."
"So?"
"You should be able to write."
She looked at the red pencil.
"I can."
"Then stop it."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because the pencil doesn't belong to me."
Nova stared.
"Whose is it?"
She handed it to him.
"It belongs to you."
Nova took it.
The moment his fingers touched it...
everything stopped.
Every falling page froze.
Every universe froze.
Every star froze.
The woman froze.
Nova looked at the pencil.
It was warm.
Almost alive.
A whisper came from it.
"Write."
Nova swallowed.
"What?"
"Write."
He looked at the woman.
She couldn't move.
He looked at the frozen worlds.
He looked at the blank page before him.
He wrote:
STOP.
Nothing happened.
The pencil moved by itself.
It added:
BEING AFRAID.
Nova stared.
The words changed.
STOP BEING AFRAID.
The universe resumed.
But something had changed.
The falling pages were no longer disappearing.
They were returning.
One by one.
Worlds reappeared.
Cities.
People.
Stars.
Memories.
Nova breathed.
"It worked."
The woman moved again.
She looked at him.
"No."
Nova frowned.
"What?"
"You didn't stop it."
"Then what happened?"
"You changed what was happening."
Nova looked at the pencil.
"What's the difference?"
She whispered:
"Everything."
---
A door appeared.
Blue.
Nova approached.
The woman stopped him.
"Don't open it."
"Why?"
"Because that is where the Reader lives."
Nova stared.
"The Reader?"
"Yes."
"I thought the Reader was gone."
"He was."
"Was?"
"He returned."
Nova touched the door.
"What does he want?"
The woman looked afraid.
"You."
"Why?"
"Because he has finished reading you."
Nova frowned.
"What happens when someone finishes reading a character?"
She answered:
"They can decide whether the character continues."
Nova stepped back.
The door opened.
A man stood behind it.
Ordinary.
Completely ordinary.
No cosmic eyes.
No strange clothes.
No impossible features.
Just a human being.
He held a book.
Nova recognized the cover.
His own story.
The man smiled.
"Hello, Nova."
Nova stared.
"Who are you?"
The man raised the book.
"I'm the one who read you before you existed."
Nova's eyes narrowed.
"You've been here before."
"Yes."
"You lied."
The man smiled.
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Because you weren't ready for the truth."
"What truth?"
The Reader opened the book.
"There is no Reader."
Nova froze.
"What?"
The man turned a page.
"There is only the person being read."
Nova stepped forward.
"Then who are you?"
The Reader looked at him.
"You."
---
Nova stared.
"No."
The Reader smiled.
"You've heard this before."
"I'm not you."
"You are."
"I'm Nova."
"So am I."
The two stared at each other.
The woman stepped between them.
"Don't let him convince you."
The Reader looked at her.
"You shouldn't be here."
She raised the red pencil.
"Neither should you."
The Reader laughed.
"I was here first."
The woman answered:
"No."
The Reader's smile disappeared.
"I remember."
"So do I."
Nova looked between them.
"What are you arguing about?"
Neither answered.
Nova shouted:
"WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?"
The room shook.
The Reader dropped the book.
The woman dropped the pencil.
Both looked at Nova.
The Reader whispered:
"You."
Nova froze.
The woman whispered:
"You've already remembered."
"Remembered what?"
The Reader answered:
"Who wrote the first story."
Nova's breath stopped.
"Who?"
The Reader looked toward the ceiling.
The woman looked toward the floor.
Both said the same word.
"Nova."
---
Silence.
Nova shook his head.
"No."
The Reader nodded.
"Yes."
"I wasn't there."
"You were."
"I didn't exist."
"You did."
"How?"
The woman answered:
"Because existence wasn't required."
Nova stared.
The Reader continued:
"You imagined yourself."
Nova whispered:
"Why?"
"Because you needed someone who could survive your imagination."
Nova looked at the woman.
"Then she..."
"Was your first attempt."
Nova looked at the Reader.
"And you?"
The Reader smiled.
"Your first witness."
Nova's face tightened.
"And the Dreamer?"
The Reader answered:
"Your first excuse."
"And the Author?"
"Your first mask."
"And the First Character?"
"Your first mistake."
Nova looked down.
"And me?"
The Reader smiled.
"Your final experiment."
---
The world disappeared.
Nova stood in darkness.
A single page floated before him.
It contained only one sentence.
YOU CREATED EVERYTHING TO FIND OUT WHETHER YOU COULD CREATE YOURSELF.
Nova stared.
"Did I succeed?"
The page remained blank.
He asked again.
"Did I?"
A new sentence appeared.
THAT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU CALL YOURSELF.
Nova thought.
"Human."
Rejected.
"Character."
Rejected.
"Memory."
Rejected.
"Dream."
Rejected.
"Reader."
Rejected.
"Author."
Rejected.
He closed his eyes.
Then...
he whispered:
"Choice."
The page remained blank.
Nova waited.
The page finally changed.
ALMOST.
Nova opened his eyes.
"Almost what?"
The answer appeared.
ALMOST FREE.
---
A sound came from behind him.
SCRATCH.
Nova turned.
The woman stood there.
The Reader stood beside her.
The older man appeared.
Then the child.
Then the writer.
Then the Dreamer.
Then the First Character.
Every version.
Every face.
Every role.
All watching Nova.
Nova whispered:
"Why are you all here?"
The First Character answered:
"Because it's time."
"For what?"
The child raised the red pencil.
"To choose the next writer."
Nova stared.
"What happens if I choose myself?"
The Dreamer smiled.
"You already did."
Nova looked at the Reader.
"What happens if I choose someone else?"
The Reader answered:
"The story continues."
Nova looked at the woman.
"And if I choose nobody?"
She whispered:
"The story ends."
Silence.
Nova stared at the blank page.
A choice.
One page.
Two possibilities.
Continue.
End.
He picked up the pencil.
The entire universe held its breath.
Nova placed the pencil against the page.
Then...
he wrote:
I CHOOSE...
The pencil stopped.
Nova looked up.
Everyone was staring.
He tried again.
I CHOOSE...
Nothing.
The pencil wouldn't move.
Nova frowned.
"Why?"
The woman whispered:
"Because you haven't asked the right question."
Nova looked at her.
"What question?"
She smiled.
"Who gets to choose?"
Nova froze.
The pencil moved.
Not in Nova's hand.
By itself.
It wrote:
THE READER.
Nova looked toward the Reader.
The Reader smiled.
"No."
The pencil continued.
THE AUTHOR.
The writer shook his head.
"No."
THE DREAMER.
The Dreamer closed its eyes.
"No."
THE FIRST CHARACTER.
The First Character stepped backward.
"No."
THE SECOND CHARACTER.
The woman looked at Nova.
Her eyes filled with fear.
"No."
The pencil wrote one final line.
THE ONE WHO HAS NOT BEEN CREATED.
Everything stopped.
Nova stared.
"Who is that?"
The woman whispered:
"We don't know."
Nova looked at the blank space.
Something was there.
Invisible.
Waiting.
A shape began forming.
A hand.
Then an arm.
Then a face.
Nova stepped backward.
The face became clearer.
It wasn't the woman.
It wasn't the Reader.
It wasn't the Dreamer.
It wasn't Nova.
It was someone completely new.
A young man.
Maybe twenty.
Maybe two hundred.
Maybe unborn.
He looked directly at Nova.
And smiled.
Nova whispered:
"Who are you?"
The stranger answered:
"The next character."
Nova stared.
"But the story hasn't created you."
The stranger smiled.
"Exactly."
"Then how are you here?"
The stranger pointed toward Nova.
"You created the possibility."
Nova's heart began racing.
"Why?"
The stranger's smile disappeared.
"Because someone has to replace you."
Nova froze.
"Replace me?"
The stranger nodded.
"The story can't continue with you forever."
Nova looked at the others.
Nobody spoke.
The stranger stepped closer.
"You were never meant to be the ending."
Nova whispered:
"Then what am I?"
The stranger answered:
"The beginning that refuses to end."
---
The white space shattered.
Everything fell.
Pages.
Worlds.
Stars.
Memories.
Characters.
Readers.
Authors.
Dreamers.
All collapsing into one enormous spiral.
Nova reached for the woman.
She disappeared.
The Reader vanished.
The Dreamer vanished.
The First Character vanished.
The stranger remained.
Nova shouted:
"WAIT!"
The stranger looked back.
"Where are you going?"
"Forward."
"There is no forward."
"Then backward."
"There is no backward."
"Then where?"
The stranger smiled.
"Inside."
Nova froze.
The stranger touched his forehead.
Everything became silent.
Nova's eyes closed.
He heard a heartbeat.
THUMP.
Then another.
THUMP.
Then another.
THUMP.
A human heartbeat.
He opened his eyes.
He was inside a body.
Small.
Weak.
New.
He couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
Couldn't see.
But he could hear.
A woman was crying.
A man was laughing.
Someone said:
"It's a boy."
Another voice asked:
"What's his name?"
Silence.
Then...
a voice answered.
"N..."
Nova's heart stopped.
The voice continued.
"...ova."
BLACK SCREEN.
A final line appeared.
RECOVERED TRANSMISSION // FILE: N-110
STATUS: ORIGIN RECONSTRUCTED
LOCATION: BEFORE BIRTH
TIME: FIRST BREATH
SUBJECT:
THE SECOND CHARACTER
Then...
a newborn cried.
But beneath the cry...
another voice whispered:
"That's not Nova."
Silence.
Then:
"That's the one who will remember Nova."
SCRATCH.
SCRATCH.
SCRATCH.
The final sentence appeared:
NOVA HAS JUST BEEN BORN.
Then another:
BUT SOMETHING ELSE WAS BORN WITH HIM.
BLACK SCREEN.
**TO BE CONTINUED…**
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :MAXIMUS.
©All Rights Reserved.