(20k Views Celebration)

  The world blinked.

  The corridor vanished.

  The smell of mildew and existential dread dissolved into a bright white space with a table, three chairs, and one badly handwritten sign floating above:

  ASK THE AUTHOR ANYTHING – NO REFUNDS

  Leo squinted up at it.

  Harlada gripped her staff, ready for violence.

  Bert assumed this was a boss fight and immediately began sweating.

  A fourth chair materialised. It had a cushion.

  I, the author, sat down.

  Leo inhaled sharply. “Okay. Let’s not panic.”

  Bert panicked.

  Harlada sighed. “Get it together. He's just the Author.”

  I smiled the smile of someone who Already regretted this curious literary decision.

  ***

  Leo opened a notebook that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Author. With all due respect — why does it take so long for Season 2? We’ve been stuck in that last silver door for… weeks? Months? A small geological epoch?”

  Harlada crossed her arms. “I’ve changed three age description levels waiting.”

  Bert raised a hand. “I forgot my own name twice.”

  I folded my hands, cleared my throat, at least this was an easy one.

  “Well. Because I am juggling:

  – A house renovation,

  – Employment, my very own maze of many,

  – Two other books,

  – And occasionally real-world sleeping.”

  Leo deadpanned. “So in short, incompetence.”

  I stared. “I prefer the term ‘side-quests.’”

  Harlada frowned. “Are we a side-quest?”

  I smiled gently. “You are… a passion project with flexible deadlines.”

  Bert nodded. “So a side-quest.”

  Harlada crossed her arms. “so should you really spend your time doing these things?”

  “Ehh next question?”

  ***

  Harlada leaned forward.

  “We have noticed some things. The dungeon reacts to jokes. It punishes Bert specifically. Sometimes it spawns corridors that lead into themselves.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  So… Are you the dungeon?”

  I opened my mouth.

  Leo pointed accusingly. “He hesitated. That’s guilt. He’s the Dungeon.”

  Harlada slammed her palm on the table. “I KNEW IT!” lightning fizzled from her fingertips.

  Bert trembled. “What is wrong with you!?”

  I held up a hand.

  “Let me explain—creating a dungeon full of puzzles, clones, rats, killer ehh ants was it?, and occasionally philosophical trauma is harder than you think.”

  Leo tilted his head. “You literally created a music intermezzo that hurts Bert's head.”

  “Feature, not bug,” I corrected.

  “Bert is still facing head trauma,” Leo continued.

  “It had a catchy tune!” Harlada admitted.

  Bert raised a timid hand. “If you’re the Maze… can you make the opponents less … bitey?”

  I shook my head.

  “No. They’re unionised.”

  ***

  The next question came from all three at once.

  Bert leaned forward.

  “Readers keep asking. You never describe us. We want canon. Tell us how we look!”

  Leo added, “Preferably with scientific precision.”

  Harlada tapped her staff. “And flattering.”

  I exhaled slowly. “Look, you’re intentionally vague so readers can imagine themselves in—”

  “Nope,” Leo cut in. “We want facts.”

  “Hard facts,” Harlada said.

  “Abs,” Bert whispered. “Give me abs.”

  I rubbed my forehead.

  “…Fine. Official description: You all look like—

  people.”

  Three screams.

  Leo: “Absolutely not!”

  Harlada: “That means nothing!”

  Bert: “So I CAN be handsome!”

  “No,” Leo replied. “He said ‘people.’ That usually means disappointing.”

  I continued, unfazed.

  “Look, you exist in a narrative perception field. Your appearance shifts depending on who reads you.”

  Harlada froze.

  “So we’re Schr?dinger’s protagonists?”

  Leo scribbled in his notebook. “Quantum idiots.”

  Bert brightened. “Does quantum mean abs?”

  “No,” Leo and Harlada said together.

  ***

  Leo cleared his throat for the final time.

  “One last question. Does Season 2… get easier for us?”

  I considered it.

  Paused.

  Smiled.

  “No.”

  Harlada rubbed her temples.

  “Does our health insurance cover dimensional collapse?”

  “No.”

  Bert raised one last hopeful finger.

  “Do I at least get a cool skill?”

  I looked at him, not sure what to say..

  Bert’s eyes widened. “No. No hesitation! That means something terrible!”

  I leaned in and whispered conspiratorially:

  “Define cool.”

  Bert screamed.

  Leo screamed.

  Harlada screamed but with dignity.

  The void dropped away.

  The Maze loaded.

  New corridor.

  New dangers.

  New opponents.

  All three shouted up at the sky as the level booted:

  “THANK YOU FOR 20K VIEWS!”

  The maze pusled, insulted:

  Why can’t I ask questions?

  See you 1st of January.