AROUND THE SAME TIME
ADRIAN'S POINT OF VIEW:
I barely caught the flicker of movement. One second, the Author stood there half-translucent, smirking like the world was his stage. The next, a shimmer danced in the air where he had been, and he started to vanish again into digital static, like a bad hologram fizzling out. But before he did a small crashing sound was heard.
A notebook hit the ground at my feet. Old, leather-bound, its cover etched with strange symbols and that irritatingly familiar glitching crest in the center , the same one from the system interface.
I blinked.
''What the hell—''I asked.
''Adrian.'' The Author said? his voice sounding distant now, like it was echoing from inside a dream. ''This one's yours.''
And then he was gone. Just like that. The forest was silent again, save for the sharp wind cutting through the trees.
