Since the destruction of Gakuda village, two months had passed.

Gonell was gone.

Theora and Dema stayed with its former residents to help build a new place to live in. Dema’s magic affinities proved rather useful at putting up some fast shelters, and, later on, more intricate constructions too. She kept trying to convince people to use her crystallised blood as a material rather than earth, but not everyone was willing to live in a house made of her bodily fluids. Those who did found themselves with very sturdy homes quickly, and Dema was able to modify things according to their wishes even after construction was finished.

It turned out she had a fair bit of artistic talent. She engraved pictures and complex ornaments into her blood crystals; they also did well in complement with wooden beams, since her blood could seep between the fibres to make them sturdier too, and it looked well together.

Meanwhile, Theora simply helped out with other kinds of manual labour.

Lostina stayed too, although she was busy with other things. For one, she kept lying to villagers to level her Class. Made herself out to be some kind of oracle, and put herself into precarious situations to talk her way out of. She also acted as a reverse-thief, mysteriously placing lost objects from before Gakuda’s fall into people’s drawers.

When she wasn’t pursuing those shenanigans, she spent her time writing down elaborate notes on everything she still remembered about this world of fiction. She still seemed determined on finding a way to help Gonell, especially now that she had personally supervised crushing Gonell’s soul.

Overall, the atmosphere in the village was somber but hopeful. Theora and Lostina had at least managed to come clean to some degree — weaselling their way to divulging as much as they could about why and how they tricked everyone into evacuation without outright violating the restrictions they were placed under, although the oracle-class cover-up was hard to avoid.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Auburn had summed things up. “The fact is we are alive, and wouldn’t be if you hadn’t helped out. I’m sure you did what you could.”

Not everyone was this lenient; some few had questions. At the very least Theora’s eagerness to help with rebuilding made them reluctant to show outright hostility. She was also the only one capable of getting the gigantic rhino out of the way when people needed to transport things, which she accomplished by asking nicely.

“So, how’s the scheming going?” Dema asked one day as she tried to take a peek at Lostina’s notes, who was sitting in a little shelter.

It was a roof of two rather thin crystal slabs of solid blood, merged at the top, and as the sun shone through, they bathed everything beneath in a soft scarlet glow. It sat on the plateau of the cliff, overseeing the by now mostly cleaned-up ruins of what used to be Gakuda village.

Dema had put blood shelves inside the slanted walls, as well as a heavy blood desk supported by thick stone pillars, and a stool made of basalt rock for Lostina to sit on. Both sides of this shelter were open, so Dema could bother her whenever she felt like it.

“I’m not scheming,” Lostina said, rolling her eyes.

Dema gave a mischievous hum. “You’re not?”

“No.”

“Well, you gonna tell us what you’re planning, then?”

“No.”

“Then that’s scheming!” Dema rejoiced. “My scheme-pal! Solidary schemer-dreamer! My fellow schemestress!”

“Can you tell her to shut up, please,” Lostina whined, looking over at Theora, who was close by on the meadow, finding flowers to gift to all her friends.

“No, I can’t,” Theora said.

Lostina let out a dissatisfied grunt. “Don’t you already know anyway? Or did your meddling already fuck your secondary author’s plot to no repair?”

“Why, I don’t know everything,” Dema said. “Look, I’ve got bad memory! Plus, that’s like, your final big scheme, isn’t it? Don’t you know by now how you’re gonna save her?”

“If it’s the ‘final big scheme’, shouldn’t that be all the more reason for you to remember? Is your memory a sieve? Or did you not even finish reading your favourite book?”

Dema grimaced, and hid herself between her hands. “Why, not my fault. Didn’t choose this book to visit. Can’t help it!”

Lostina blinked. “Wait, you actually never finished?”

Dema squirmed. “I don’t like when things end! Makes me sad when they do! So I just don’t read the final pages, because endings are bad! I’m gonna be sad when it’s over.”

Theora stared up at Dema. She had never considered the possibility, but now, it somehow made perfect sense. The woman obsessed with immortality didn’t like endings. 

“I can’t believe you,” Lostina blurted out. “But… Alright, you didn’t read everything, but surely you read enough to know the final results…? You can’t possibly call this your favourite book without knowing, right? I was hoping you’d at least tell me if this impossible plan of mine succeeds, but— You don’t even know? This is unbelievable.”

Dema pouted and turned away, walking out the shelter towards Theora with her usual little stumbles. “She’s being so mean to me, li’l rabbit…”

“I know,” Theora said. “Come here for a hug.”

Lostina rolled her eyes as she was watching the embrace. “There really is no winning with you two.”

“You could be nicer to her,” Theora replied. “She was just trying to cheer you up.”

“Yeah, yeah! You tell her!”

Lostina t’ched. “Fine, whatever. Sorry, I guess.”

A few moments passed, and while it first seemed like she wanted to go back to work, her eyes shifted to Dema again and again. Finally, she sighed. “Speaking of your reading habits — I was curious about something. If I may ask.”

“Sure!” Dema let out. “Ask away!”

Lostina took a breath. “So. I’m from Earth. And, from what I gather, the two of you come from a world that would be a pretty standard Fantasy setting on Earth. So I’m wondering how I ended up being the main character in a story in your world. Doesn’t really make sense to me — wouldn’t the main character in a transmigration story for you be someone from your world?”

“Ah!” Dema started nodding. “That’s because… Like…” She scrunched up her face. “See, there’s this very niche genre that was really popular in Hallmark for a few decades, called DespairLit. It imagines a planet where everything is bleak and sad and industrialised and exploited. It wasn’t super popular, cause like, it just seemed too terrible to be realistic, but honestly if you get really into it, it starts to be believable.”

At this point, Lostina seemed to be regretting her question.

“And so,” Dema continued, “To Hell With the Author is a meta-narrative spin-off that imagines what would happen if you put a DespairLit protagonist into a standard dystopian setting!”

Lostina shook her head, staring blankly. “Is there no escapism even in death?”

This made Theora want to give her a hug, too. Considering that background, wasn’t it almost guaranteed that this story could only ever be a tragedy? With how things had turned out in Gakuda village, it seemed like the success Lostina had in preventing the death of the residents had come with a high price. Not only for Gonell, but for the residents themselves too, who had lost most of their lives’ possessions, their homes, their livelihoods, and countless things relating to their past as well. They lived, and they still had each other, and of course, they were in progress of making new homes for themselves, but what had happened was still, all things considered, a tragedy.

Would the finale of this story play out similarly? Would she achieve her goal by sacrificing something else? If so, what price would she have to pay?

“I would also like to know a little more about your scheme, and how it is coming along,” Theora eventually said. “If you are willing to share.”

After eyeing Theora for a while, Lostina sighed in resignation, leaned back against the blood roof, and tossed her pen onto the papers spread across the table. “Fine, whatever. I can’t tell you everything, but…”

Theora raised her brows. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pretty sure if I tell you what I’m planning, you’ll try to stop me.”

A few playful shouts of children were carried across from the distance, accompanied by soft and heavy thumps. Skulduggery was probably chasing them as a game again.

“You keep saying things like that, but in fact, I have never once stopped you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lostina said, giving a wry smile. “I just don’t want to risk it.”

That wasn’t a good sign. A knot was forming in Theora’s stomach. “Is it going to be difficult?”

“That’s actually one of the main reasons why I’m looking into this gruesome idea at all,” Lostina said. “Because it might be the easiest. Like, okay. I want to prevent Gonell’s death. That’s the main goal. The issue is, of course, that the outline demands for her to die. So, if we use the same approach as with the village, we have to somehow pretend that she dies, when in reality, she survives.”

“That makes sense to me,” Theora said. “So, if you are saying that it’s gruesome… Will you have her be gravely injured instead of killed…?”

“Damn,” Lostina let out. “Well, that’s probably completely impossible to manufacture without risking her death anyway. It’s not a possibility to ignore, though. We may want to visit someone who’s good at healing or alchemy—”

“Fiantanne!” Dema interjected.

“Yes. But even if we have someone with knowledge like that, it would be tough. Plus, Gonell is the strongest person in the world. She might have countermeasures to being poisoned, or she might recover too quickly. Overall, it is a fall-back option at best.”

Theora nodded. If Gonell and Theora were comparable in strength, it would be hard to decommission her. That said, ultimately, Theora’s talents lay mostly in her own sturdiness. If Gonell was focussed on offence, maybe it could be done. “So your actual idea is better…?”

Lostina slowly shook her head, and shrugged weakly. “‘Better’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. For what it’s worth, I might know whether it worked hours or even days before her scheduled death. Meaning that, if this idea fails, I’ll still have time to scramble together a more risky strategy. The other way in which it is ‘better’ is that it doesn’t rely much on luck or the actions of other people. For example, let’s say I would try to prevent her death by shapeshifting into the Erratum that kills her. And then I would act out her death somehow, maybe by tricking her… It’s still possible that she would just kill me, or stuff like that.”

Meanwhile, Dema, still sitting cross-legged next to Theora, fidgeting nervously. She seemed uncomfortable. Perhaps she knew more than she was letting on after all.

“I really wish you would just tell me,” Theora murmured, and didn’t direct it at anyone in specific, just muttering the words at the grass.

“Hey, don’t be sad,” Lostina went, and attempted a reassuring smile that came out wistful more than anything. She fished for a piece of paper and held it up. It showed a scribbled calendar with dozens of entries, spanning over months. “Still working it out. Nothing’s fully decided yet. Perhaps I’ll find another way.”

Theora gave a sigh. “So, what are our next steps, then?”

“I need three things,” Lostina said. “First — a Frame of the Lost. Then, my Ultimate Class Skill. Lastly, access to Gonell.”

“Frame of the Lost?” Theora echoed.

“Yeah. It’s the most important thing, so we’ll start with that. It’s a magical item. There exist three in the world, but I believe two are currently in use. The only accessible one is—”

“Fiantanne!” Dema chirped. “Can’t wait to meet her!”

“Yes,” Lostina said. “The accessible one is where Fiantanne lives. There are some other magical items that would perhaps work, as a substitute, but the frame offers the best properties for what I want to do, I think.”

Theora nodded. “What does the Ultimate Skill do?”

“Well, to make it short,” Lostina went on, “It’s heavily restricted, but it gives me a bit of combat power, which my Class usually doesn’t have. In addition, it fixes one of the larger problems that being a shapeshifter or intelligence gatherer comes with; which is lack of information. Like, if you infiltrate a place — and haven’t been, say, undercover for months or years — then you need to know a lot. The more you improvise, the higher the chance of being found out eventually.”

“Yeah!” Dema added, nodding wildly. “That’s why I would never use shapeshifting schemes! Just too risky.”

Lostina scoffed. “Your schemes amount to having children think you’ve stolen their nose. You and I are not the same.”

“Why, you little—” Dema launched herself forward in playful anger, and Theora had to hold her back at her hips or all the documents in the shelter would soon fly across the meadow with the wind.

“In the end,” Lostina continued as if nothing happened, “Gonell dies to serve as an emotional beat when the structure of the story demands it, and she dies so that she can’t just solve the later plot problems on her own. My idea is awful by all accounts, and I’m not expecting applause for it, but as long as I make sure the above stays true, I think I have good chances.”

“I’m rooting for you,” Theora said.

Lostina huffed out a smile. “Thanks. Let’s hope you won’t regret that.”

“So…” Theora started again, after a moment, “Who’s Fiantanne then?”

Immediately, Dema lit up. “Her big day’s coming!”

Lostina shrugged. “She’s a side-character villainess-princess. But we shouldn’t go there on her ‘big day’. I was considering fetching the item in the aftermath.”

“Bummer… I wanna hear her speech,” Dema said. “Also, Gonell will be around right after.”

Lostina frowned. “From what little I know, I don’t think listening to her speech would end well for any of us. And, I don’t even want to meet back up with Gonell, after what I did to her. I’m not that vile. I was thinking of meeting her towards the end.”

That came as a surprise. So, that meant whatever Lostina’s plan was didn’t entail gaining Gonell’s trust? Didn’t include travelling together, or anything like that?

Dema jumped up. “Village is almost rebuilt, so we gotta go cheer Gonell up! She’s gotta be all sad after leaving! Plus, we never got to find out who was stronger.”

“What?” Lostina let out. “Stronger between whom? Gonell is the strongest in this world. What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Dema said, “Theora is the strongest of our world. So. I wanna know who wins! Theora didn’t join in playing catch last time.”

“Oh,” Theora said. “I wasn’t aware you were trying to goad me into joining. Walking around is effort…”

“I swear to god, you two… Anyway, Gonell should win, since for you, this is fiction. Who’d write a power fantasy if the strongest character in it can’t even compete with people of your own world?”

At that, Dema fell silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two, her gaze eventually resting on Theora. “You’d lose?”

That question made Theora think.

Of course, in her home reality, it amounted to basically a fundamental rule of reality that she would never lose. It was why she had been chosen to defeat the Ancient Evil in the first place. It was why she had been chosen to fetch the Fragments of Time. 

It was why she was an empty shell, a mere automaton walking through the centuries to serve as a weapon — until Dema came along and somehow managed to breathe a bit of life back into her, as fleeting as it felt.

But, this was a work of fiction, and in addition, a fundamentally different reality. That’s why they were here, after all. The Fragments were hidden in places entirely unlike where they came from. So, perhaps that ironclad rule did not apply here. Especially considering that Theora wouldn’t truly lose; chances were, if things went awry, she’d just reanimate in the sarcophagus in the Grand Observatory, like waking from a dream.

“I don’t know,” Theora said. “I can’t feel auras in here. It’s hard to judge.”

“No! You can’t lose! Don’t lose!”

For a moment, nobody said anything — Dema just stared in what seemed like genuine panic.

Lostina frowned. “What’s got you so rattled up?”

Dema bit her lips, standing up and walking a few steps backward. Her head turned between Lostina and Theora, and she looked like she was about to cry. “Why, little rabbit likes to be thrown around. If she loses, she’s gonna fall for Gonell! And abandon me!”

“I’m not going to fall for Gonell,” Theora said. “And I won’t abandon you.”

“What if she beats you into submission? You can’t fall for her. You already have me!”

Theora stood up, reached out with both her hands and fetched Dema’s. She looked her in the eyes. Who was looking like a scared animal now?

“Dema,” she said, “First of all, it’s possible to love more than one person—”

“Damn, wise words from one of the densest I’ve met on the topic, if the poor girl’s stories are to be believed,” Lostina murmured.

“—And secondly, I will not abandon you.”

“Also,” Lostina added, “You should be careful what you say.”

Dema looked confused. “What? Why?”

“We’re in a story. You told me that you’ve been reading a lot lately, so you must be aware of what that means?”

“What that means,” Dema let out. “’Course I’m aware what that means! Little rabbit, what does that mean?”

Theora blinked, but Lostina came to her aid, saying, “You’re providing setup.”

Dema’s head swirled, but Theora didn’t get it. “Setup?”

“Yes. By bringing this up, she’s making it more likely to happen, because the author will have means to refer back to it later, in a narrative arc.”

Dema’s grip on Theora’s hands fastened. “Damn, I didn’t mean it! Li’l rabbit! [Obliterate] what I just said!”

Theora couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, what a cutie Dema was. Theora really just wanted to stay with her forever. Her giggle echoed around, and the world seemed to fall silent in response. Lostina stared in mild misbelief. Dema’s mouth stood open, eyes wide in surprise.

“What?” Theora asked.

Lostina shrugged. “Nothing. Just never heard you laugh before.”

“Same here,” Dema said mirthfully. “You’ve got dimples too!”