**EPISODE TEN**
**"THE HERO WHO WALKED AWAY MID-BATTLE"**
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**1. THE BATTLE THAT ARRIVED ON SCHEDULE**
The battle arrived exactly when it was supposed to.
That, Milo thought later, was the insult.
The sky darkened at noon. Clouds rolled in with cinematic precision, bruised purple and iron gray. Wind howled through the jungle, bending trees into silhouettes of impending doom. Drums thundered in the distance... not played by hands, but by inevitability itself.
An army emerged from the northern ridge.
They marched in formation, armor polished, banners raised high. Their sigils glowed faintly with ancient promise: conquest justified, violence ordained, resistance required.
Diana felt it instantly.
Her spine straightened. Her grip tightened on her sword. Her breathing fell into rhythm.
"This is it," she said. "This is a real one."
Tarzan crouched, muscles coiled. "They come to take."
Gandalf closed his eyes, listening to forces older than language. "A classical incursion," he murmured. "Clean. Purposeful. Designed to be opposed."
Milo stared at the army, heart pounding.
They looked *right*.
Too right.
The console vibrated violently at his side.
**CONFLICT EVENT DETECTED**
**HEROIC RESPONSE: EXPECTED**
Milo swallowed. "They're following the old rules."
"Yes," Gandalf said. "Which means they are testing whether those rules still apply."
The army halted at the edge of the clearing.
A horn sounded.
Clear. Commanding.
A challenge.
Diana stepped forward without hesitation, shield raised, sword blazing with divine fire.
"I will meet them," she said. "As I always have."
Milo opened his mouth to stop her.
Nothing came out.
---
**2. WHEN PURPOSE FEELS GOOD AGAIN**
The clash was immediate.
Steel rang against steel. The ground shook beneath charging boots. Arrows tore through the air, embedding themselves in trees and flesh alike. Magic flared as Gandalf unleashed controlled bursts of light, precise and devastating.
Tarzan moved like the jungle itself... silent, lethal, unstoppable.
And Diana...
Diana was magnificent.
She cut through the front line with practiced grace, every movement a poem written in muscle and will. Her shield absorbed blows that would have shattered mountains. Her sword sang with righteous fury.
For a moment
The world made sense again.
Milo felt it too.
The pull.
The comfort of opposition.
This was how it was supposed to work: threat, response, sacrifice, victory.
The console chimed.
**HEROIC ENGAGEMENT: ACTIVE**
Milo's breath caught.
"No," he whispered. "Not like this."
But the battle surged on.
The enemy general emerged... towering, armored, eyes burning with conviction. He pointed his blade toward Diana.
"You!" he roared. "Champion of the old order! Face me!"
Diana smiled grimly.
"Yes," she said. "I will."
She charged.
The universe leaned forward.
---
**3. THE MOMENT THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST**
Their blades met in a shower of sparks.
The impact echoed like thunder.
They fought with brutal symmetry... strength against strength, belief against belief. Each strike carried not just force, but *expectation*. The crowd... soldiers, allies, even the world itself... watched, waiting for the familiar arc.
Milo felt sick.
"This is wrong," he said aloud.
Gandalf, deflecting a spell, glanced toward him. "What is?"
"She's not choosing," Milo said. "She's… fulfilling."
As if hearing him, Diana faltered for half a heartbeat.
The enemy general struck.
Her shield caught the blow, but the force sent her skidding backward across the clearing.
She rose instantly, unhurt... but something had changed.
Her breath was ragged.
Her eyes unfocused.
She looked around.
At the army.
At Tarzan fighting.
At Gandalf casting.
At Milo watching.
And then...
She stopped.
Her sword lowered.
The enemy general blinked. "What are you doing?"
Diana didn't answer him.
She turned to Milo.
"Milo," she said quietly.
The battle continued around them, but a strange hush formed in the space between her words.
"I didn't decide to be here," she said.
Milo's heart lurched. "Diana... "
"I *always* am," she continued. "The call comes. I answer. The fight begins. I win or I fall."
She looked at her sword as if seeing it for the first time.
"But this time," she said, voice trembling, "I don't remember saying yes."
The console screamed.
**HEROIC DOUBT DETECTED**
**NARRATIVE INSTABILITY RISING**
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**4. THE HERO WHO SAID NO**
The enemy general raised his blade again. "Champion! Fight!"
Diana looked at him.
Really looked.
"You don't know why you're here either," she said.
He snarled. "I was born for this."
She shook her head. "So was I."
She stepped back.
Once.
Then again.
"What are you doing?" Milo whispered.
Diana's voice broke... but did not waver.
"I'm walking away."
The words hit the battlefield like a shockwave.
The enemy general froze.
Tarzan stopped mid-strike, staring.
Gandalf's spell collapsed into sparks.
The army hesitated.
The world itself seemed to stutter.
**HEROIC ENGAGEMENT: INTERRUPTED**
The sky flickered.
Stars appeared... then vanished.
Diana sheathed her sword.
"I won't finish this," she said. "Not because I can't."
She met Milo's eyes.
"But because I don't choose it."
The enemy general roared in fury and charged.
He struck her...
And the blow passed through her.
Not because she was invulnerable.
But because the *battle* no longer recognized her.
The general stumbled, confused, his blade biting only air.
"What have you done?" he screamed.
Diana turned away.
The army began to panic.
Without her opposition, their formation unraveled. Soldiers hesitated, unsure whether to advance, retreat, or exist at all.
Gandalf whispered, awe and fear entwined. "She has exited the role mid-scene."
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**5. WHEN THE STORY COLLAPSES**
The consequences were immediate - and brutal.
Without a central hero, the battle lost coherence.
Some soldiers fled.
Others attacked wildly.
A few simply dropped their weapons, overwhelmed by the sudden absence of narrative gravity.
Tarzan pulled Milo behind a tree as chaos erupted.
"This is worse," Tarzan growled. "No pattern."
Gandalf raised his staff, struggling to stabilize the field. "A battle without meaning is slaughter."
Milo watched Diana walk calmly toward the treeline, untouched by blade or arrow.
"Diana!" he shouted.
She stopped but did not turn.
"I am not abandoning you," she said softly. "I am abandoning inevitability."
The enemy general fell to his knees, clutching his head.
"I don't understand!" he screamed. "Who do I fight now?!"
No one answered.
The army dissolved - not defeated, but *orphaned*.
Bodies lay scattered.
Not heroic.
Not tragic.
Just dead.
The sky cleared abruptly.
The battle was over.
And no one had won.
---
**6. AFTER THE FIGHT**
Silence returned, heavier than before.
Milo stood shaking amid the wreckage.
"This is what it looks like," he whispered. "Without heroes."
Gandalf lowered his staff slowly. "Yes," he said. "And it is terrible."
Diana returned at dusk.
Not armored.
Not radiant.
Just tired.
She sat beside Milo without ceremony.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?" Milo asked.
"For the deaths," she said. "They will blame me."
Milo nodded. "They'll be right."
She met his gaze. "Do you regret it?"
Milo thought of the village. The refusal. Valen Kor.
"No," he said. "But I'm afraid of what comes next."
Diana exhaled. "So am I."
The console flickered.
A new entry burned itself onto the screen.
**FIRST HEROIC WITHDRAWAL RECORDED**
**BATTLE RESOLUTION: NULL**
**GLOBAL IMPACT: SEVERE**
Somewhere beyond sight...
A being older than gods finally stood up.
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**7. THE SHADOW THAT NOTICED**
The stars dimmed further that night.
Not disappearing.
Watching.
Gandalf stared into the darkness long after the others slept.
"They will not tolerate this," he murmured.
Milo stirred. "Who?"
Gandalf's voice was grim.
"The ones who *need* stories to end."
The console displayed its question again—altered, heavier.
**WHO WRITES THE End - WHEN HEROES REFUSE TO FINISH IT?**
Milo closed his eyes.
And far away...
Something that had always relied on inevitability felt rage for the first time.
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**END OF EPISODE TEN**
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(TIME, TARZAN AND TERRIBLE IDEAS will return with an exciting new adventurous episode)
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :Maximus.
©All Rights Reserved.