The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 60 - Meet Your Monster

Tave's thoughts raced. Wild, untamed, desperate.

He tried to piece together any explanation, any logic that could justify what he was seeing. There were only supposed to be ten people inside this Rift Expedition. That was the rule. That was the structure. The entry was sealed.

And yet. This man was here. Now.

And not just any man. Theo.

Tave was sure of it. Absolutely, unshakably sure. That face was burned into his memory, from the very first moment he'd opened his eyes in this world...

Back then, after the coffee. Back then, when everything began.

He looked younger now. Sharper, more composed. But it was him.

This meeting. It wasn't supposed to happen yet. And certainly not like this.

Not in the middle of a Rift.

Not during a mission.

"Judging by your expression..." the man said, calm and unreadable, "...I'd say you recognize me?"

Tave stepped back slightly, instinctively tightening his grip on the sword.

"Who are you?" he demanded, trying to sound firm, composed. "You're not supposed to be here. No one else was allowed in this Rift."

The man tilted his head slightly, almost amused. "Who am I?" he echoed. "That's funny. Isn't it... ironic? You created me. And now you ask who I am?"

Tave's heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"How did you get here? This Rift was sealed. You're not part of the Expedition. No one should even be able to enter from the outside!"

"Ah, Tave..." The man said his name like a memory.

How? How does he know me?

Could it be... the third wish?

The last of those three strange, broken words Theo had whispered back then. Before Tave was vanishing from that battlefield.

Was this it? Had he asked to find Tave again?

"You're quite the performer," the man said quietly, a sliver of amusement in his eyes. "So tell me... how did you recognize me?" He took another step forward.

"I'm sure this is our first time meeting. Unless... were you there, back then when I made those three wishes?"

Tave narrowed his eyes. He had to lie. Had to keep the upper hand. Even if only for a second longer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. "There are only eight people in this Rift, and all of them are accounted for. When they find you, you'll be in serious trouble."

It wasn't a perfect bluff. But it was all he had.

Because the truth? He had no idea what to do. No idea how to handle this. Theo, the original protagonist, was standing right in front of him!

Out of nowhere.

And suddenly, every assumption Tave had made about this world, about the reset, about his place in the story... collapsed.

Was Theo here the whole time? Using some kind of concealment skill? Was he Elias?

Damn it. He should've seen it.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

"So..." the man continued, his voice smooth, calculated. "How does it feel to meet a character you created yourself, huh?"

He lifted both arms slightly, his chin tilted upward, that faint, familiar smirk spreading across his lips. That was... Theo's signature expression.

"Stop with the nonsense." Tave's voice was sharp, firm. But even he could hear the tension behind it.

He cursed inwardly.

Was he being too obvious? He wasn't exactly a master liar, and with Theo, lying felt impossible.

But what was the point of even trying? It was foolish. Reckless. Maybe even insulting.

Theo... was here. The very protagonist Tave had created, shaped, and written countless pages about.

The man standing before him now was no hero. He was someone who would do anything to get what he wanted. Someone who never missed when he set his sights on a target. Someone who had never failed to kill when he decided someone needed to die.

And now... He stood face to face with his creator.

Tave.

The author.

And Theo... had come to collect.

"HOW DOES IT FEEL TO FINALLY STAND BEFORE ME... TAVE?!"

The man's voice boomed, louder now, cutting through the chamber like fire and ice.

"SHUT THE HELL UP AND STOP WITH THE NONSENSE!" Tave roared back. "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE!"

They stared at each other now. Locked in a silence thick with fury. The air between them seemed to hum with tension, their eyes burning with emotions no longer hidden. Anger. Recognition. Resentment.

"So..." the man said, voice low but sharp, "how does it feel to live inside this world, Tave?"

He stepped forward slightly, shadows trailing behind him.

"Oh... right," he added, his smirk returning. "You've only just arrived, haven't you? So maybe... you haven't tasted all the pain you crafted with your own hands."

Tave clenched his jaw.

He tried to stay composed, to cover up what was now undeniably clear between them. "My teammate will be here soon," he said, coldly. "You should explain yourself before they take that anger out on you instead."

"Ha! Ha!" The man laughed. "You really think I'm the type to back down just because of a threat?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Let's see how long you keep up this ridiculous act."

He began walking forward again. Slow, deliberate, like a predator who already knew his prey was cornered.

Tave stood his ground. Trying not to flinch. Not to step back. But it was hard. Because he could see it, clear as day.

"Can you see the anger in my eyes, Tave?" the man asked.

And yes. He could!

Absolutely. The same fury he had seen once before, when he first laid eyes on Theo, bleeding and broken after the war's end. That expression. The pure, restrained wrath was not something Tave ever wanted to see again.

But now, it was here. And it was aimed directly at him.

"THIS IS THE ANGER AND HATRED BORN FROM THE STUPID SUFFERING YOU CREATED IN THIS WORLD, TAVE!"

The man's voice cracked through the cavern, echoing with a force that made the very air tremble.

Tave stood frozen. Mind racing, paralyzed. He tried to dig through his thoughts, forcing his brain to work. But it was like his mind had iced over. He was truly cornered. Torn between keeping up the bluff... or facing this moment for what it was.

"THIS IS THE RAGE OF A MAN WHO WATCHED THE PEOPLE HE LOVED BE DESTROYED. ONE BY ONE, BY YOUR HAND!"

The man's voice rose, burning with raw pain. His steps came closer, slower now, like every word was a strike aimed straight at Tave's soul.

"FOR WHAT?!"

"DID YOU GAIN WEALTH? FAME? A TASTE OF GLORY FROM ALL THIS?!"

Tave's heart pounded in his chest. He had no answer. Or maybe he did. He just couldn't say it out loud.

Because deep down, he knew. He had written this pain. Every twist. Every death. Every shattered moment that built Theo into the monster, the legend, the protagonist he was...

It was all his doing.

The man's steps grew slower, heavier. Each one echoing through the chamber like a warning bell.

Tave's breath caught in his throat. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Bone dry. His tongue felt like dust. His whole body tensed.

The man stopped just a few paces away now. Close enough that Tave could see the flicker of raw emotion behind his eyes. Not just rage. Not just grief.

Vengeance.

"I," the man said. "WILL BRING YOU THE SAME SUFFERING YOU WROTE FOR ME!"