Arc was still shaped like a rubber duck. And he'd started speaking… ancient duck.
> "Qua-quak-rah!" he honked with dignity.
> "Did he just summon something?" Lyria asked nervously.
> "Pretty sure he just insulted my beard," Mortax muttered.
As we debated whether duck-shaped curses were binding, a gentle breeze picked up. Then intensified. Then exploded into a full-on editorial whirlwind.
A cloaked figure descended, riding a storm of quills and muttering in footnotes.
> "Who the—" Kevin began.
> "SHH," the wind whispered. "The Editor approaches."
He landed gracefully… then tripped on a plot hole and faceplanted.
> "Ow. Too much exposition," he muttered.
Straightening, he removed his hood, revealing a monocle, seventeen bookmarks woven into his beard, and an expression that suggested he'd seen every draft of our lives—and was unimpressed.
> "You are invited," he said flatly, handing us a scroll sealed in sarcasm wax. "To the Narrative Nexus. Where unresolved plotlines... go to scream."
Plotbert gasped.
> "THE NEXUS?!"
> "Yes," The Editor said. "It's time. Loose threads must tangle or tie."
Grubnuk squinted.
> "Does this involve cheese?"
> "Only metaphorical," The Editor replied. "And mild."
Suddenly, Grubnuk's riddle voice boomed:
> "When chaos coils and threads entwine, what typo lives between each line?"
The ground bubbled. A small blob emerged. It had twelve eyes, four commas, and the scent of misspelled mayonnaise.
Plotbert shrieked.
> "YOU SUMMONED A TYPODEMON!"
> "Oops?" Grubnuk grinned.
The Editor flicked a red pen. The creature corrected itself out of existence.
> "We leave in the morning," he declared. "Pack light. Bring closure."
He then ascended on a cloud of index cards.
We stared.
> "We're really doing this," I said.
> "We're going to the heart of the story," Lyria whispered.
> "I'm not ready," Kevin whimpered.
Arc honked. Plotbert translated.
> "He said, 'None of us are. That's the point.'"
Mortax stood up, stretched, and muttered:
> "If I get turned into a metaphor again, I'm burning the plot."
And just like that, we began to prepare for our strangest journey yet.
Toward the Narrative Nexus. Where every forgotten idea, misplaced joke, and mysterious backstory lurks.
Waiting to be resolved… or rewritten.
---
End of Chapter 47 (Duck spells, typo demons, and the road to the final arc.)