August woke up in the abandoned research facility to the sound of alarms.
Not the facility's alarms - those systems had been dead for months. This was coming from outside, a low wailing that seemed to emerge from the landscape itself. Like the earth was screaming.
"That's not ominous at all," August said, checking his Foundation monitor. Solid blue, thankfully. His immunity system had stabilized overnight.
He gathered his gear and headed for the facility's observation deck to see what was causing the noise.
What he saw made him understand why the research teams had abandoned this place.
The reality fractures were spreading.
What had been isolated cracks in space yesterday were now vast tears in the fabric of existence. Through each fracture, August could see glimpses of other places - some that looked like different parts of the zone network, others that looked like nothing he could identify.
And things were coming through.
"Zone breach," August realized, watching creatures that definitely hadn't originated on Earth emerge from the larger fractures. "The reality damage is opening holes to… somewhere else."
His Foundation monitor flickered green as it identified new threats: dimensional intruders, space-time predators, and something it labeled as "narrative parasites."
"Narrative parasites," August read aloud. "That sounds particularly unpleasant."
August checked the facility's emergency protocols and found evacuation procedures that were both detailed and depressing.
"In the event of dimensional breach, all personnel are to retreat to Fallback Position Delta-7 immediately. Do not attempt to engage or study extradimensional entities. Do not attempt to close fractures using standard equipment. If retreat is impossible, implement Protocol Omega."
August looked up Protocol Omega and immediately regretted it.
"Total facility sterilization via harmonic resonance. Estimated survival rate: 0%. Authorization required from Command Level 5 or higher."
"Suicide protocol," August said. "Because apparently that's the theme for all solutions in this world."
August left the facility through a maintenance exit, avoiding the larger fractures where things with too many angles were emerging.
His Foundation adapted to dimensional exposure and narrative contamination as he moved, but each adaptation cost him more of his limited immunity storage. By the time he reached safe distance, August was down to just temperature resistance and fall damage immunity.
Everything else had been deleted to make room for protection against things that shouldn't exist.
"I'm basically starting over," August realized, checking his nearly empty immunity list. "One encounter with something normal and dangerous, and I'm dead."
But the alternative was staying in a facility that was about to be overrun by extradimensional horrors, so August kept walking.
The landscape ahead was a patchwork of stable reality and dimensional chaos.
August picked his way carefully between fractures, following what remained of Arthur's trail markers. Some of the carved messages were partially erased by reality distortions, making them hard to read.
"Zone 39-A… [illegible]… 23 Forsaken… Zone King (Dimensional-class)… [illegible]… containment failing… proceeding to… [illegible]"
"Dimensional-class Zone King," August said. "That explains the fractures. Arthur killed something that was holding reality together."
But according to the partial message, containment had been failing anyway. Arthur had been trying to prevent exactly this kind of dimensional breach.
"He's not causing the disasters," August realized. "He's trying to stop them. And failing."
That's when August found the body.
It was lying beside what appeared to be Arthur's most recent trail marker, partially dissolved by exposure to dimensional energy. The person had been wearing research facility gear - probably someone who'd tried to evacuate too late.
August checked for identification and found a badge: "Dr. Sarah Chen, Senior Researcher, Zone Containment Division."
There was a note clutched in her partially-dissolved hand.
"Reality cascade beginning. Zone Kings coordinating attacks on dimensional barriers. Solvain Protocol may be only option. God help us all."
"Zone Kings coordinating attacks," August read aloud. "They're working together now."
August buried Dr. Chen as best he could and continued following Arthur's trail.
The evidence of coordination was everywhere once August knew what to look for. Synchronized fractures, complementary reality distortions, dimensional breaches that seemed strategically positioned to maximize chaos.
"This isn't random," August said, making notes as he walked. "The Zone Kings are planning something. They're trying to break dimensional barriers systematically."
His Foundation monitor flickered green occasionally as he encountered residual dimensional energy, but the adaptations were minor. August was building immunity to reality contamination, but losing everything else in the process.
"Trade-offs," August said. "Everything in this world is trade-offs."
The next trail marker was carved into a boulder that existed in three dimensions simultaneously.
"Zone 39-A cleared. Dimensional-class Zone King destroyed. WARNING: King's death accelerated reality cascade. Dimensional barriers compromised across entire region. Retreat impossible. Implementing contingency protocol. If anyone reads this, tell Command the Solvain Protocol is active. - A.S."
"The Solvain Protocol is active," August repeated. "Arthur's implementing the suicide mission."
But there was something else carved below the main message, in smaller letters:
"Personal note: I'm sorry I couldn't save more of them. The work was always bigger than one person. Maybe it was always supposed to be."
August stared at the personal note for a long time.
"Maybe it was always supposed to be," August said quietly.
For the first time since entering this world, August felt like he was reading something the Arthur he'd actually created might have written. Not the cold, efficient zone clearer, but the character August remembered - someone who carried the weight of impossible choices and tried to be sorry about them.
"I did create you," August said to the carved message. "Maybe not all of this, but I created you. The part that apologizes for not saving everyone."
The thought was oddly comforting. Even if this world had grown beyond August's original story, some part of Arthur was still the character August had written - still human enough to regret the necessary cruelties.
"Hang on, Arthur," August said. "I'm still coming to find you."
August continued deeper into the dimensionally unstable zone.
Reality fractures were everywhere now, some large enough to walk through, others just cracks that bled strange light and incomprehensible sounds. Through the larger ones, August could see glimpses of what appeared to be other zone networks, other versions of the crisis he was living through.
"Infinite zones," August realized. "This isn't just happening here. It's happening everywhere, across multiple dimensions."
The scope was staggering. Not just one world struggling with impossible threats, but entire multiverses full of Zone Kings and dimensional parasites and people like Arthur trying to hold back apocalypse.
"No wonder the researchers gave up," August said. "How do you fight something that's infinite?"
August made camp that night in a pocket of stable reality between two major fractures.
His Foundation monitor showed that he was now immune to dimensional contamination, narrative parasites, and something called "conceptual bleeding." But he'd lost immunity to biological attacks, geometric manipulation, and sonic warfare.
"I'm specialized now," August realized. "Adapted for dimensional zones, vulnerable to everything else."
He pulled out his journal and wrote:
"Day… I've lost track. Following Arthur's trail toward implementation of Solvain Protocol. Reality cascade spreading. Zone Kings coordinating attacks across dimensions. Arthur apologized in his last message - still human enough to regret necessary choices."
August paused, then added:
"Maybe I didn't create this whole world. Maybe I just created the part of Arthur that's still trying to save people. That might be enough."
August fell asleep surrounded by dimensional chaos, listening to sounds that had no earthly origin.
Tomorrow he would continue following Arthur's trail toward whatever the Solvain Protocol actually involved. Toward the black areas on the map where even the researchers had given up hope.
But tonight, for the first time since meeting Lyka, August felt like he understood his place in this story.
He might not be the creator of this vast, impossible crisis. But he was the creator of Arthur's humanity - the part that apologized for not saving everyone, the part that kept working even when the job was infinite.
"Maybe that's what protagonists really do," August said to himself as dimensional parasites sang lullabies through the fractures. "Maybe they don't create the story. Maybe they just… refuse to give up on the characters they care about."
In the distance, something that might have been a Zone King screamed across multiple dimensions simultaneously.
Reality fractures spread wider, bleeding chaos into the world.
And somewhere ahead, Arthur Solvain continued implementing a protocol that everyone agreed was suicide, because someone had to try holding back the infinite.
August slept fitfully, dreaming of carved apologies and the weight of stories that grew too big for their authors.
Tomorrow would bring new zones, new impossibilities, and new evidence that the crisis was spreading faster than anyone could contain it.
But it would also bring August closer to finding Arthur - not as his creator, but as someone who refused to let him carry the infinite weight alone.
Even if August had no idea how to help with a job that was bigger than worlds.