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As Flies to Wanton Boys

He watched her return to her place on the green, knowing that it was not the Lady herself that he had just spoken with. Her words had been sweet enough, but that did not make them true. The conversation had unsettled him further.

He made for the quiet place beneath the stands where I awaited him. “Hi”, I said, “let’s talk.”

He had not expected to find anyone here, least of all someone that clearly didn’t belong. “Who are you?” he whispered.

“I’m your author. Well, technically, I’m the simulacrum of your author. You live in different worlds so you need me to communicate.”

“What do you want?”

“This ability to see the cords… I expected you to use it to find a way of severing all of the competitors’ cords, but you’re becoming neurotic instead. I can’t work with you like this. I’m going to remove the ability to see your own cords and the associated memories. You’ll be good as new.”

“And live my life as a puppet without being aware of it? No. Kill me.”

“What?”

“Kill me.”

His body crumpled to the floor.

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