through an air vent, wearing dusty clothes and covered in soot. She stands up, coughing, and scans the room nervously. Numerous large monitors decorate the dark walls of the hall, and at the other end is a massive window, offering a fantastic view of the Shadow Realm and all of its floating islands and skies. Before the window stands a figure, draped with a long, ornate velvet robe, gazing at the view silently and without motion.
The convict, who I should probably mention is Clie Nt, approaches the figure apprehensively. Though her footsteps clearly echo around the penthouse, the figure seems to be deliberately ignoring them. Is this Him? Clie wonders.
“Evening.” His soft voice reverberates in the hall. What terrible acoustics.
Clie freezes in place. “Uh… evening?”
He draws a deep breath, but still keeps his gaze fixed on the window. “I trust that you’ve something to discuss.”
“Well, yes. Kind of. I’ve been asked to deliver a warning.”
The figure turns around. Clie isn’t sure what face she expected him to have, but she is nonetheless baffled. His face is human. Beautifully human and innocent. The most distinct feature about it, doubtless, is his eyes, which boast a lovely golden color, an immaculate shade reminiscent of a whispering field of wheat bathed in the beams of a winter sunset. How droll.
His eyes vaguely widen at the sight of her. “Clie Nt. Curious. You, of all people, I did not expect to find here.”
“Er… Do I know you?”
“I presume not. But I have heard much about you.” He steps across the penthouse towards one of the monitors, beneath which a keyboard appears. He types something on it, and the screen fills with small text, scrolling up and down and shifting about. “These are your tales. And I think we are in yet another one.”
“Well… who are you, then?”
He directs his yellow gaze to her. “I am the one known as the Shadow Master. I am the ruler of this world. But that is less important—tell me, Clie, what warning have you come to deliver?”
“It’s about… the Ordinaryman. And how you have to destroy him.”
“The Ordinaryman? Hmm.” He walks over to another monitor and types something else into it. Some more text appears on the screen, which he takes a moment to read. “I see. A rogue character, convinced that he is real. How bemusing.” He leaves the monitor and ambles back to the center of the room, to submerge himself in the view of his kingdom.
Clie raises an eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to destroy him?”
The Shadow Master sighs. “Clie, I get requests all the time, about all kinds of things. When people are desperate, they come to me. Perhaps they see in me a mere last resort.”
He gestures at a large drawer in the wall. Clie approaches it warily and pulls it open, revealing the corpse of a beautiful woman upon whose chest a bloody pentagram has been carved. Clie recoils in horror. “What the hell?!”
“Indeed. This is just one of many ‘sacrifices’ I have been offered by some overworld organization. Their request is always the same: ‘Contumeliis afficiunt Xakh’ath’akh’arus.’”
“Xakh’ath’akh’arus… I know that name.”
“Yes, it should be familiar. But these requests are not from your time—they date back to far earlier than when Xakh’ath’akh’arus first appears. Somehow, they had predicted what was to come, and asked me to destroy it.”
“But you didn’t.”
He says nothing.
“Why?”
“Because I am not God. I am not the Author. I do not dictate what happens beyond my domain. The Shadow Realm is mine, and nothing else is.”
“But… the fate of the world relies on it! You have to destroy the Ordinaryman, or all is doomed! Isn’t it?”
He chuckles half-heartedly. “No. It isn’t. That would be exciting, though, would it not? Defectus likes to pretend that his world lives on its own. That he can surrender control and watch its timeline go on without him. He created this dimension, too, and gave its command to me—as if it made any difference. He says he has no control over this realm, but that is not true; even these words that I speak, and the words that you speak, and everything that surrounds us—it’s all his.”
“So why does he do it? Why does he pretend that his work is alive if it so clearly isn’t? And if he truly makes everything, as well as the words you just said, why does it seem as if he’s now admitting that it’s all fake?”
“I fear I know not the answer. Perhaps it is for his own amusement. Perhaps for the amusement of others. Perhaps this is just something to distract him from his otherwise uneventful and dull life. Perhaps he wants people to like him. Perhaps this is the only medium of storytelling he feels comfortable with. Perhaps he’s not competent at anything, and this is the only way he can both admit it and continue talking. I don’t know. It’s all open to interpretation.” He sighs deeply. “That being said, I’ve made a promise. If I do find the Ordinaryman lurking around the Shadow Realm, I shall surely send him to .”
“To… to what?”
“.”
“Are you saying something? I can’t tell.”
“Indeed. is a rather peculiar place; it is, in fact, nothingness. The nature of its nothingness, however, is remarkable— spreads at a very slow rate, and yet anything and everything it touches becomes part of it. There is no escape from ; once you go in, you’re not coming out. Simple as that. Allow me to demonstrate.”
He walks over to yet another monitor, where instead of black text on a white background, live footage of a large dinosaur asleep on a hillside is displayed on the screen. “This is Rex the Tyrannosaurus. Earlier today, he slaughtered an innocent herbivore and devoured its carcass. As retribution, I shall send him to . Observe.”
The Shadow Master performs an odd gesture with his hands, and a brief snapping sound is heard. When Clie returns her gaze to the monitor, the dinosaur has vanished from the hillside.
“Now, here is ,” he says, pressing a button on the keyboard. The view of the hillside is replaced by a transparent background, through which the back of the monitor can be seen. The figure of the same sleeping dinosaur appears in the center, but it soon begins evaporating at an accelerating rate, its body breaking apart faster and faster into nothingness, until, mere seconds later, it is completely gone, and all that remains is a blank screen.
“Rex is no more.” He presses a button on the keyboard and the screen turns black. “That shall be the fate of the Ordinaryman, as well, if he is to set foot in my kingdom.”
“Hmm. Isn’t that cruel?”
“That is up to Defectus to decide. He is the one making these decisions.”
“Does that truly exempt you from your moral obligations, though?”
“Perhaps. I am not one to judge.” The Shadow Master returns to his view. “Now that you have delivered your warning, it is time to close the loop. I shall send you back to your time, and to your friend. You will surely see me again in your future, but as for me, this is farewell. Best of luck on your journey, Clie. You will not need it.” He does another odd gesture, and Clie disappears.