Imagination Cursed Us All With Life

About two years after the studio went under, both Lacie and Norman got married at a courthouse. Norman was hesitant to ask her to marry him, considering how bad things went with Vincent’s mother. Thankfully, he and Lacie tied the knot, and you bet your ass that Lacie wore the coolest yellow wedding dress.))

A fond smile crossed his lips, and he gave a small bow. “I appreciate your desire to help. And frankly, I wish there was a way to do this without much bloodshed. But it can’t, so I have to continue it. It’s unfortunate, for sure.”

“I can certainly agree that much.” He looked down at his crossed arms, his face betraying a look of longing. 

“What’s to say it can’t be both? Even humans, wonderful and strange and naive as they are, do not want to be alone. They are a social kind of being. But an unfortunate thing about humans is that they die. So, some take the responsibility of making sure there are more humans in the world. I won’t sugar-coat and say all are this noble, but it’s undeniable that in order for humans to exist, there must be more made. Loneliness is a terrible, terrible kind of hell.”

“There might be. But there’s also consequences to systematically destroying any semblance of people with the ability to warp reality. And honestly, I wouldn’t call Authors ‘magic’.” He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his spine once. “I mean, you wouldn’t know, so I can’t fault you. But magic and Author’s abilities to warp reality is like comparing apples to oranges. Maybe there are consequences, and I’m more than able to shoulder that responsibility. But I also have a responsibility to make sure I am not the only living Creation wherever I go.”

“I get the feeling you are being sarcastic.”

“Of course. You can’t exactly push a circle block through a star imprint, can you? It’d be pointless to try and do this with others I was not certain were Authors in a different universe. At that point, it just becomes cruel. At least with my records and planning, it isn’t nearly as cruel.”

“As much as I can.”

“Well, I’ll admit that multiverse theories are a difficult field to navigate, so I’ll try to simplify. In my world, there have Creators for a long, long time. Even with the injustices done to them, many thrived. And since some came to America, many of them are able to register in a census. I have those records of Authors in my world. So, in a multiverse, there are copies of pretty much everyone. All I had to do was find this world’s copies of those Authors. And ‘encourage’ them to apply for work at Mr. Drew’s studio.”

“But we’ll never know, will we?” He glanced down to the anon, starting to wave his hand as he talked. “He refused to go home to his own world to try and fix things. When he discovered he might have a child out there, he went to ME. Not to his Creator, who he could find in a black void if he needed to, but ME. I’m a dangerous, awful being with powers imagined by an angry Author, and Enzo goes to me for help. Not his Creator, the one who never once chased him out of unrequited respect for him.”

“Ohhh, you are a funny one. You think I haven’t tried that?”

“Whether or not they want to isn’t necessarily an issue. I don’t know if you have noticed, but everyone who came to work at the studio was an Author in my universe. My hypothesis about them being able to translate into being Authors in other verses was at least partially correct.”

“...Oh. Oh dear anon, you are so close, yet incorrect.” He started to walk down a hallway, continuing his explanation. “They consummated that relationship. And instead of talking to his Creator afterwards about how he felt and how uncomfortable he was? He ran away. He ran off, never to talk to his Creator again, or to involve himself with her, or anything. To use a more modern equivalent, he went to the store to get cigarettes and hasn’t gotten them yet.”

A bit of irritation finally made it on his face, and he stood up straight. “Oh, you mean the manipulative, mawkish Mr. Drew? Or do you mean the two-faced, narcissistic Miss Hagen-Campbell? What do a handful of people, who have replacements in other worlds, matter in the whole scheme of things?”