After practicing for an absolutely tiresome five hours. They stopped; this was as much as Canny could go.
Plopping on the ground and gasping for air. Canny smiled; he found himself better than usual. Not only did his level increase.
He could feel in him that there was change, a lightness to his body. Maybe Author really wasn't a bad person. He only wanted to help him.
Feeling abashed by what he had said and done, Canny rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly and spoke.
"I'm sorry for what I have said; it's just—"
Before he could finish, Author interjects.
"That's how we learn. How would you overcome something when you don't know the mistake you have made?"
Author sat beside Canny; he was tired too. although not as much as Canny.
It wasn't just learning shooting but also conjuring weapons a little higher than Canny's current level.
His patience with the boy had been fruitful; he had reached the level that Author needed.
Author looked at the sky; it was scorching hot. They sat under the shade of the protruded roof, which was still standing thanks to the two walls on both sides.
It was still hard to believe the second game could cause such devastation. It was vaguely different from what Author had imagined.
There's far more danger to come than this.
Author sighed inwardly, remembering all the perilous games that had yet to come. Author peered at Canny; the boy had been staring at the sky without feeling his eyes burning.
"Have I not told you my name?" Author said.
Actually, he didn't, but he believed that he did.
"Old Man is kind of a great name."
I'm only twenty-four, you idiot!
"Well, I will still introduce my name; I'm Author Luis."
"Arthur or Author?"
"Author."
"Like those novelists? You're not trying to show off that you're some kind of a big author, are you?"
He wanted to, but he never had the encouragement to publicly state he was a writer. Who wrote failures, and a writer with not a single successful novel is a failed Author. That's what Author used to think, but he kept his hopes.
"My father used to tell me I will be a great writer."
"So, you are one and still trying to become one?"
Canny curiously looked at him. Author nodded at him, although he wasn't sure if he should tell him what he had written.
Although, he also couldn't deny the fact that one of his stories had become a reality. Maybe the boy would blame him for it. Or just say he's saying crazy stuff, even though the world itself has become something where all the crazy things would be considered real.
What Canny really wanted to know was about his parents.
"So how was your father?"
Canny's father was kind to him, to be honest, the only support he had. even though he knew well that his father wasn't really his biological father. He was born a b*****d.
A different father, his mother's secret lover. Later his father did find out after Canny himself revealed it. For the sake of keeping his family with him, his father forgave his mother.
The story turned dark after his father died.
Leaving behind an abusive mother and a world full of filth. He was left exposed to it; eventually he did find a friend.
A friend who came to save him from world and bullies. Funny enough. Canny considered him a hero.
A hero who had already sold him. There was nothing heroic about his friend behind Canny's back. He was no different than the bullies; he bargained with them to beat Canny, and when they were done, he would come to save him.
A strange way of amusement.
At home, he was assaulted by his mother and at school by the bullies.
Humans have limits; either they kill themselves if it's unbearable, or they kill the things that make it unbearable. And Canny chose the latter, killing both his mother and best friend.
Fortunately for him, it was the same day as the world changed, and this new surreal reality became more real than one can imagine.
"He was a really good person, always up helping others." Said Author.
"Do you miss him?"
"Sometimes I do, quietly a lot."
Author turned to Canny, prompted.
"Do you miss yours? How was he? Brave, best?"
Canny thought for a moment and answered.
"The greatest."
Author asked him more questions, and Canny answered; they began to enjoy each other's company. Not for long though; there was still one person left for Author to deal with.
However, Author wasn't very concerned about the girl. Her latent talent had awakened. Unlike Canny, she already had Maya beside her and Joseph to teach her.
The preparation was completed or headed to completion.
All there was left was waiting for the game to begin.
***
"Everyone's ready?" Asked Author.
It was morning, and a few groups of white clouds drifted in the sky.
[Watcher 'Selfish Pig' is excited!]
[Watcher 'Golden Moon Light' is nibbling on the golden apple.]
[Watcher 'Hero of Hundred Worlds' is questioning the difficulty of the third game?]
"Where's Clyseus?"
Author asked, looking around.
He hadn't seen him since the morning arrived.
"The game is about to commence; where would he be at?"
From behind, a figure crept and whispered to his ears.
"Looking for me?"
Suddenly, Author twirled with his sword in hand. As the blade whistled through the air and was about to cut Clyseus.
Clyseus blocked it with his metallic hand.
"Oh, it's you." Author said.
"What an enmity—you want to call it an accident with an 'oh'?"
Clyseus laughed; he was not dumb. The sword wouldn't have harmed him; besides, Author really was trying to kill him.
"You have glimpsed into the future. Tell me, what is this third game about?"
Author shrugged; he revealed only a tiny bit of information to Clyseus.
"You wouldn't be in need of much information anyway."
[I knew you would prepare yourself.]
Zaradus appeared in the air, smirking.
[we have concluded that the third game shouldn't be that difficult.]
Rubbing his palms. He wore a sympathetic look.
[Relief yourself from the stress now.]
His words worked; people were delighted. They weren't sure just how much the difficulty had reduced but regardless, they were still happy.
Except Author.
Maya glanced at Author's straight expression. It hit her; the Crospeya was lying.
"He's deceiving them. What else do they want if not to deceive before a game?"
Author hopelessly sighed; even his own comrades were showing signs of happiness. However, the slightest of happiness would fade when they will enter the third game.