Lord of Perverted Ladies

The bus continued down the empty road.

For several minutes, nobody spoke.

The message on my phone had disappeared again, leaving behind nothing but my reflection on the dark screen.

What will you do with a world that can finally hear you?

It sounded simple.

It wasn’t.

I looked out the window.

The forest had disappeared.

Alisster was slowly coming back into view, but something about the city looked different now.

Not physically.

The buildings were the same.

The roads were the same.

But I could feel something.

A faint pressure.

Like the city itself was listening.

I turned toward my father.

"Did you feel that?"

He looked at me.

"Feel what?"

"The city."

He was silent for a moment.

Then his expression changed.

"You heard it."

"Heard what?"

"The world."

Ryan, sitting across from us, frowned.

"Can someone please explain what that means before I lose my mind?"

My father looked toward the window.

"Before the Story was created, reality was passive."

"Things happened."

"People lived."

"Events occurred."

"But nobody could directly influence the structure beneath it."

I looked at him.

"And now?"

"Now Adrian can."

Noah stared at me.

"How?"

My father shook his head.

"We don’t know."

"That’s comforting."

"It’s not supposed to be."

The bus suddenly slowed.

I looked ahead.

There was a traffic light.

It was red.

The driver stopped.

I stared at the light.

Something felt wrong.

Not dangerous.

Just... familiar.

I looked at the red signal.

Then thought:

Turn green.

The light changed.

Everyone went silent.

The bus moved forward.

I stared.

Ryan slowly turned toward me.

"Did you just..."

"I don’t know."

"You looked at the traffic light."

"Yes."

"And it changed."

"Coincidence."

Ryan pointed at the road.

"There wasn’t a car anywhere near that intersection."

"Still coincidence."

Noah leaned forward.

"Try something."

"What?"

"Something small."

I sighed.

"Like what?"

He pointed toward a streetlight.

"Make that turn on."

I looked at it.

Nothing happened.

"See?"

Then the streetlight flickered.

Once.

Twice.

It turned on.

Everyone stared.

I slowly leaned back.

"Okay."

Ryan looked horrified.

"Okay?!"

"I didn’t mean to."

My father looked concerned.

"Don’t try anything else."

"Why?"

"Because you don’t know what you’re doing."

The bus continued.

I looked at my hands.

The power didn’t feel like the System.

There was no interface.

No energy.

No sensation.

It was simply...

intent.

I wanted something.

Reality responded.

That was terrifying.

We reached the city center.

The bus stopped.

My father stood.

"We’re getting off."

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

I frowned.

"My mother’s house?"

"Yes."

We stepped off.

The city was busy.

Cars moved through intersections.

People walked along sidewalks.

Stores were open.

Everything was normal.

Except for one thing.

Everyone was looking at me.

Not staring.

Listening.

I could feel it.

Every person we passed seemed to react to my presence.

Some turned their heads.

Others paused.

A child pointed at me.

His mother pulled him closer.

A man dropped his phone.

A woman stopped walking entirely.

Noah noticed.

"Okay."

"What?"

"They know."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

I looked around.

The entire street had become strangely quiet.

Then someone shouted.

"Adrian!"

I froze.

A man was standing across the street.

He looked familiar.

Not someone I knew.

But someone from the Outside City.

One of the possibilities.

He pointed at me.

"You’re real."

People began murmuring.

Another voice:

"That’s him."

Another:

"The missing boy."

Another:

"He’s alive."

Another:

"He came back."

My father grabbed my shoulder.

"Keep walking."

"Why?"

"Because they don’t understand what you are."

"Neither do I."

"Exactly."

We moved faster.

Then a woman stepped into our path.

She looked directly at me.

"You came back."

I stopped.

"Who are you?"

She smiled.

"Someone who remembers."

"Remembers what?"

"Your first life."

My father immediately stepped between us.

"Move."

The woman didn’t.

"You can’t hide him anymore."

"That’s not your decision."

"No."

She looked at me.

"It’s his."

I stepped around my father.

"What do you remember?"

The woman studied my face.

"Your first question."

I frowned.

"What is this?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

"Where were you?"

"Here."

"In Alisster?"

"Before Alisster."

"Then where?"

She smiled.

"You’ll find it beneath the city."

My father grabbed my arm.

"We’re leaving."

I pulled away.

"No."

He looked surprised.

"I need to know."

"Not from her."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn’t remember the truth."

The woman laughed.

"Neither do you."

I turned toward her.

"Then tell me."

She pointed toward the center of Alisster.

"Go beneath the old clock tower."

"What will I find?"

"The first room."

"What first room?"

"The room where Adrian Cross was born."

She disappeared into the crowd.

I stared after her.

Noah approached.

"Was that supposed to happen?"

"I don’t know anymore."

Ryan sighed.

"That’s becoming a recurring theme."

We continued toward the old clock tower.

My father remained silent.

That bothered me more than anything.

"You know something."

He didn’t answer.

"Dad."

"Yes."

"You know where we’re going."

"Yes."

"What is beneath the clock tower?"

He stopped.

"The first laboratory."

I stared.

"Laboratory?"

"The Scriptorium didn’t create the Story beneath the hospital."

"Then where?"

"Here."

He pointed toward the clock tower.

"Under Alisster."

"How deep?"

"Deep enough."

"That’s not an answer."

"It doesn’t have a measurable depth."

Noah groaned.

"Of course."

We reached the clock tower.

The old structure rose above the surrounding buildings.

It had been renovated, but the original stone foundation remained.

My father walked around the back.

There was a small metal door hidden behind a maintenance panel.

He unlocked it.

Inside was a narrow staircase.

I looked down.

Darkness.

"You’ve been here before."

"Yes."

"With me?"

"Yes."

"How old was I?"

"Thirteen."

Again.

That age.

Everything seemed to return to thirteen.

We descended.

The stairs continued for far longer than they should have.

The air became colder.

Eventually, we reached a massive underground chamber.

Unlike the Scriptorium, this place wasn’t filled with books.

It was filled with machines.

Old machines.

Some looked mechanical.

Others looked impossibly advanced.

At the center was a glass cylinder.

Inside...

There was a body.

My body.

Again.

But this one was different.

It looked exactly like me now.

Not thirteen.

Not seven years younger.

Me.

I stepped closer.

"What is that?"

My father didn’t answer.

Noah looked at the cylinder.

"Is that..."

"Yes."

I touched the glass.

The body opened its eyes.

Everyone jumped.

The thing inside stared directly at me.

Then it smiled.

I stepped backward.

"What the hell?"

The glass cracked.

My father shouted,

"Get away!"

The cylinder shattered.

Liquid spilled across the floor.

The body fell forward.

I caught it.

It felt warm.

Alive.

Its eyes opened.

It looked at me.

Then spoke.

"Finally."

I stared at it.

"Who are you?"

It smiled.

"You."

I dropped it.

It hit the floor.

Ryan stared at me.

"Okay."

He pointed toward the body.

"How many of you are there?!"

The body stood.

It looked exactly like me.

But there was something wrong with its eyes.

They were completely white.

"I am the version that stayed."

I frowned.

"Stayed where?"

"Here."

It pointed toward the laboratory.

"While you were living."

"Who created you?"

"You did."

I shook my head.

"No."

The body smiled.

"Yes."

It stepped closer.

"You created me before you entered the Story."

My father raised his weapon.

"Don’t."

The body looked at him.

"You still think weapons matter."

My father fired.

The bullet stopped in midair.

Then dropped.

The body didn’t move.

Noah whispered,

"That’s not good."

The body looked at me.

"You finally understand what you are."

"I don’t."

"You are not a character."

"You are not the Writer."

"You are not the Observer."

"You are not the Witness."

"You are the listener."

I frowned.

"The listener?"

It nodded.

"Reality hears you."

The room trembled.

The machines began activating.

Lights flashed.

Screens turned on.

Every monitor displayed the same sentence.

VOICE RECOGNIZED.

Then:

COMMAND AUTHORITY: ACCEPTED.

My heart started pounding.

The body smiled.

"You wanted to know what you’d do with a world that could hear you."

I looked at the screens.

The answer was becoming obvious.

But I didn’t like it.

"What happens if I give it a command?"

"Reality obeys."

"And if I don’t?"

"Someone else will."

"Who?"

The body pointed toward the ceiling.

I looked up.

Nothing.

Then a voice came from the speakers.

Not the Witness.

Not the Observer.

Not my own.

A voice I had never heard before.

"Finally."

Every machine turned toward me.

"The Listener has returned."

My father went pale.

"That’s impossible."

I looked at him.

"What?"

He whispered,

"The first command."

"What first command?"

He stared at the body.

"Your grandfather discovered this place."

"What did he do?"

"He asked reality a question."

"And?"

My father looked at me.

"It answered."

The lights went out.

A single screen remained.

Words appeared.

COMMAND ONE: IDENTIFY THE SPEAKER.

I stared.

Then another line appeared.

COMMAND TWO: CHOOSE THE WORLD.

The body beside me smiled.

"Now you have to decide."

"Decide what?"

"Which reality gets to be real."

I looked at the screens.

The Outside City.

The academy.

Alisster.

The Story.

The discarded worlds.

Millions of possibilities.

All waiting.

My father stepped toward me.

"Don’t."

"Why?"

"Because once you choose..."

He looked terrified.

"...everything else disappears."

The body laughed softly.

"That’s how reality has always worked."

I stared at the command.

For the first time, I understood the true meaning of the message I’d received.

What will you do with a world that can finally hear you?

It wasn’t asking what I wanted.

It was asking what I was willing to sacrifice.

I looked at the countless possibilities.

Then at my friends.

My mother.

My father.

The academy.

The person I had loved.

The versions of myself.

And finally...

I looked at the body standing beside me.

"None."

It frowned.

"What?"

"I’m not choosing one world."

I stepped toward the central machine.

"I’m choosing all of them."

The laboratory shook violently.

My father shouted,

"Adrian, stop!"

I placed my hand against the machine.

Every screen went black.

Then one sentence appeared.

COMMAND ACCEPTED.

The body screamed.

The entire underground chamber began splitting apart.

Above us...

Alisster’s sky changed.

Thousands of doors appeared across the city.

And from every door...

Another world began pouring through.

I had refused to choose.

Reality had heard me.

And now...

Everything was becoming real.

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