The Contradiction Forest eventually gave way to something that looked almost normal, which August found oddly disappointing.
"Come on," he said to the landscape as he emerged from between two trees that had finally committed to being oaks. "I put way more creativity into this world than just… regular countryside."
Because that's what it was—perfectly ordinary rolling hills covered in regular grass, dotted with trees that were just trees, under a sky that was boringly blue. August had definitely not written anything this mundane in his original story. Arthur's world was supposed to be dark and interesting, not pastoral and peaceful.
"Maybe this is the expanded version trying to be realistic," August mused, consulting his map. "You know, not everything can be dramatically twisted. Some places have to be normal for contrast."
According to Marcus's notes, this was the outer edge of the deep zones. It looked so peaceful that August half-expected to see farmers working in distant fields. Instead, he saw absolutely nothing alive except himself.
"Okay, that's more like it," August said, brightening. "Ominous emptiness. Much better atmosphere for the story."
He started walking along what appeared to be an old road. His Foundation monitor had settled back to steady blue, apparently satisfied that August was now immune to paradoxes and reality variance. Which was good, because as the creator of this world, he should definitely have some built-in resistance to its weirdness.
The silence was profound. No birds, no insects, no rustling of small animals. Just August's footsteps and the wind through empty grass.
"Very post-apocalyptic," August said approvingly. "I always did like the abandoned wasteland aesthetic. Really sets the mood for—"
Something howled in the distance.
August stopped walking and listened. The sound came again—long, mournful, and definitely not friendly. It was followed by another howl, then another, until it sounded like an entire pack of something was calling to each other across the empty hills.
"Okay," August said, checking his Foundation monitor. Still steady blue. "Hostile wildlife. That's more in keeping with the tone I was going for."
The howling was getting closer.
August started walking faster, not quite running but definitely moving with more purpose. He'd created this world, sure, but that didn't mean he wanted to test how creative he'd been with the local predators.
"Besides," he said to himself, "I only wrote ten chapters. I have no idea what the expanded version added to the ecosystem."
The first one appeared on a hilltop maybe two hundred meters away.
It looked like what would happen if a wolf had been redesigned by someone who thought wolves weren't quite nightmarish enough. Too many joints, too many teeth, and eyes that glowed with a sickly green light. When it spotted August, it let out a howl that sounded less like an animal call and more like breaking glass.
"Definitely not my design," August said, his voice slightly higher than usual. "That's way too metal for middle school me."
More shapes appeared on surrounding hills. Whatever these things were, they hunted in packs, and they'd apparently decided August looked like dinner.
"Right," August said, breaking into a run. "Time to exercise that adaptive immunity."
The pack gave chase immediately, bounding down the hills with a grace that was beautiful and terrifying. August ran harder than he'd ever run in his life, his Foundation monitor flickering green as his immunity system kicked into high gear.
The first one reached him just as August spotted salvation—a cluster of buildings in the distance that looked like they might offer shelter. Claws raked across his back, tearing through his jacket and shirt to scrape against skin. The pain was immediate and sharp, but within seconds, August felt his Foundation adapting. The next swipe from a different creature's claws skittered harmlessly off his skin.
"Immunity to slashing damage," August panted as he ran. "Thanks, Foundation!"
But the creatures adapted too. Instead of claws, they started trying to bite. Then to tackle. Then to use some kind of sonic attack that made August's ears ring. Each time, his Foundation adjusted within moments, making him immune to that specific threat.
By the time August reached the buildings, he was essentially invulnerable to the pack's attacks, but he was also exhausted and more than a little shaken.
"Okay," he said, leaning against a wall while the creatures circled outside, apparently confused by their inability to harm him. "That was definitely not in my original story. Someone's been adding content."
The buildings offered good shelter—thick stone walls, narrow windows, and heavy doors that August was grateful to bar behind him. The pack howled outside for a while, then gradually dispersed, apparently deciding August wasn't worth the effort.
August explored his temporary refuge while catching his breath. It appeared to be some kind of waystation, similar to Marcus's place but abandoned. There were signs of recent habitation—cold ashes in the fireplace, supplies that weren't completely spoiled, and a logbook on the table.
He flipped through the logbook, curious about who'd been staying here.
The entries were brief and professional:
"Day 23: Zone 31-B cleared. 15 Forsaken eliminated. Zone King (Architect-class) destroyed. Proceeding to Zone 32-A. - A.S."
"Day 30: Zone 32-A cleared. 8 Forsaken eliminated. Zone King (Nature-class) destroyed. Heavy resistance encountered. Requesting backup at… [illegible] - A.S."
"Day 35: Request denied. Proceeding to Zone 33-C alone. Standard protocol. - A.S."
August stared at the entries. A.S. Arthur Solvain. This was Arthur's handwriting. Arthur's logbook. Arthur had been here, maybe just days ago.
"This is perfect," August said, excitement overriding his exhaustion. "I'm on the right track. I'm following Arthur's actual route."
He flipped to the most recent entry:
"Day 40: Zone 33-C cleared. 31 Forsaken eliminated. Zone King (Combat-class) destroyed. Proceeding to deep zones. No backup required. Standard protocol maintained. - A.S."
"No backup required," August read aloud. "Of course not. Arthur always was the lone wolf type. That's how I wrote him."
Except… Arthur was supposed to be dead by now. August had killed him off in chapter ten. But here was evidence that Arthur was not only alive but actively working as some kind of professional monster hunter. The world had expanded Arthur's story far beyond August's original ending.
"Which means," August said, settling down to plan his next move, "Arthur's been living in this world for who knows how long. He'll definitely know what's going on. He'll be able to explain how I got here and how to get back."
Outside, the wolf-things had given up and moved on. August studied Arthur's map notations, trying to figure out where the "deep zones" might be. According to the logbook, Arthur was heading southeast, toward an area marked with warning symbols and the notation "EXTREME HAZARD - ZONE KINGS ALPHA-CLASS."
"Alpha-class," August mused. "That sounds appropriately dramatic. Very final boss tier."
He made his own notes in his journal, copying Arthur's route and adding his own observations about the hostile wildlife and his Foundation's adaptations. The pack attack had been unpleasant, but it proved his immunity system was working perfectly. Whatever this expanded world threw at him, he'd adapt to it.
"Plus," August said to himself as he prepared to continue his journey, "I created Arthur. He's my character. Even if he doesn't remember me, there's got to be some kind of connection there. Some recognition."
The thought was oddly comforting. In this strange, expanded version of his own story, Arthur was the one constant. The one thing August was absolutely certain existed. The one person who might have answers.
August shouldered his pack and headed back out into the empty landscape, following Arthur's trail toward the deep zones. The sun was setting, painting the hills in shades of orange and gold that were actually quite beautiful, despite the recent wolf attack.
"Not bad atmosphere for Chapter 24," August said to himself. "Building tension, establishing stakes, moving the plot forward. Still got it."
Behind him, the waystation fell back into silence. Ahead of him, the deep zones waited with their Alpha-class Zone Kings and extreme hazards. And somewhere in between, Arthur Solvain continued his endless work, unaware that his creator was following his trail through a world that had grown far beyond its original ten chapters.
August whistled as he walked, because even in an expanded version of his own story, he was still the protagonist. And protagonists always found what they were looking for, eventually.