I never spoke to anyone about the pain in that novel world. The sensation of Alistair tearing open my womb to take my child still woke me in cold sweats at night.
The coffee shop television suddenly played a broadcast of a spiritual ceremony, the clamor of sacred chants instantly freezing me. In a daze, I was back in that frigid sanctuary, my knees raw and bleeding on the hard floor.
After the signing, my editor looked at me with concern. “You look terrible.”
“Just remembered some unpleasant things,” I said, forcing a smile.
Pushing open the coffee shop door, a gust of wind swept in, carrying a familiar scent of sandalwood. I spun around, my heart seizi- ng at the sight of a monk on the street corner. For a moment, I almost saw Alistair’s cruel gaze piercing through reality.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s just a novel.” I clutched my chest, repeatedly reassuring myself.
When I arrived home, my husband was in the kitchen preparing dinner. The warm, comforting scent of cooking filled the air. “I love you.“I suddenly hugged him, my voice tinged with a lingering fear I couldn’t hide.
What’s wrong?” He noticed my distress, gently stroking my back. I closed my eyes, trying to commit the warmth of his embrace to memory
what’s wrong?” He noticed my distress, gently stroking my back. I closed my eyes, trying to commit the warmth of his embrace to memory.
Before bed, I secretly opened the digital file of the book. The world within the story, reclaimed by the System, was riddled with pixe- lated cracks on every page. Alistair Valerius was trapped at the wedding venue. No matter how many times the world reset, Sera- phina would always take her own life at the exact same moment. And he would forever wait for me in the prison visitation room, ghost of a woman who had vanished, driven to madness, covering the walls with my name in his own blood.
a
My fingertips trembled as I scrolled across the screen, returning the words I had heard countless times. “You deserve it.” That night, I dreamt of Alistair standing before the rift between the book world and reality, reaching out, trying to grasp me. His eyes were no longer cold, but filled with desperate yearning.
I jolted awake, finding my new book on the nightstand, lying open. Beside it stood a shimmering, transparent figure. It was Alistair, or rather, his data projection.
“How did you find me here?” I retreated to the headboard, fear and anger intertwined.
“I digitized myself.” Blood tears streamed from his eyes, his voice like fragmented code.
I laughed, a bitter, painful sound. “Playing the devoted lover now? Disgusting.”
“I’m sorry.” He knelt, his forehead touching the ground, just as I had once done for him. I watched him coldly. “Ten lifetimes of tor- ment, and you finally taste the bitterness of pain.” “Alistair Valerius, you will be forever trapped in your own obsession.”
His figure disintegrated completely, dissolving into scattered data fragments. I closed the book. On its cover, the title, The High Acolyte Knelt, Shattering Three Thousand Realms, Yet She Never Looked Back, shimmered.
The next morning, I woke to find my wedding ring still securely on my ring finger. My husband gently stroked my belly. “What did you dream about? You were crying quite a bit last night.”
“A nightmare that has finally ended.” I leaned into his embrace, my heart, at last, truly at peace. Alistair Valerius was forever trapp ed in his own cycle of torment, and I was finally, truly free.
