A/N: Wow. Twenty Chapters. Over a hundred Reviews. Simply: Thank You. That's all I got for now so here's Chapter 20! Hope you enjoy!
The Son of Gotham
Selina freely allowed herself to be dragged through the hallways of Galavan's building, figuring there was no point in fighting her kidnappers. Even if she'd wanted to, her hands were tied and they'd pulled a bag over her head, so there was no point in resisting. She'd save her strength for now.
She was abruptly shoved into a chair and the bag removed from her head. She blinked hard a few times as her eyes adjusted to the glaring light of the room.
Standing in front of her was Theo Galavan himself, smiling all smug-like.
"You okay?" he asked calmly and genuinely, as if he really cared about her well-being. She simply raised a judgmental eyebrow in response. "Glass of water?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Look, Theo, can I call you Theo?, if you want me to sign those papers I'd still be willing to make a deal…"
He scoffed and shook his head. "I know, I know. But I can acquire your company by other means." He smiled and crouched down to her level, saying, "My true name is Dumas. And a long time ago, my family were dishonored and degraded by yours."
She furrowed her brow and shrugged. "Okay? So?"
"For centuries, our noble clan has lived in vile, squalid obscurity." Sensing he was about to start monologuing, she tuned out and looked around the room. Nothing had changed much since she'd last seen it, other than the cloaked men stationed around the perimeter of the apartment. She tuned back in as he continued, "But we lived in hope, because our patron saint spoke of a glorious day to come. But that day would only come when nine men of Gotham and the last son of our mortal enemy are slain by righteous hands. That's you, Selina. You're the last son."
She scoffed. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not a boy. Sorry for wasting your time. I'll just go…"
Another man in robes walked in, holding a small jar in one of his hands. "Nonsense, child," he said as he approached. "The prophecy did say Son of Gotham, but given you're the sole survivor of the name, an exception can be made." He dipped his index and middle fingers into the jar and then marked her forehead with water.
"Hey, knock it off," she protested.
"Be glad, child," he said quietly. "You're the anointed redeemer of your family. For seven generations, the Wayne family has wallowed in vice and corruption. So tonight, at the forewarned hour of midnight, the Dumas shall be avenged, and the sins of the Wayne family shall wash away in your blood."
Selina froze and clenched her jaw. She'd know she'd have to hold on until help arrived, but now she was on a deadline. Literally.
Two of the hooded men lifted her from the chair and the man, who Galavan had called Father Creel, led them out of the penthouse. She threw one last dirty glare at Galavan as they left.
They went down an elevator to the lobby, and then took several more flights of stairs downwards until they reached a stone passageway that was probably older than Gotham itself.
No, it wasn't a passageway, it was a prison. Cells lined the walls, the bars dated and covered in rust, but the locks appearing brand new.
Most of the cells were empty, although she did see one with a human skeleton in the corner.
However, there was one cell that was very much occupied.
Selina had seen some horrible things in her life firsthand, but she audibly gasped at the sight.
His shirt had been torn clean off his back and he looked thirty pounds lighter than what was healthy. His chest, back, and arms were littered with cuts and lacerations and his skin was stained red from the blood, his face unscathed but deathly white. He was almost unrecognizable.
Sterling was hanging there, his hands chained to the ceiling to keep him in a standing position. He looked halfway to death.
His eyes weakly cracked open, the only indicator that he was even alive, other than his occasional hitched, heavy gasps for breathe. "Selina…" he rasped.
She hated his guts, but this…he didn't deserve this…no one deserved this…
"What…what are you doing to him?" she squeaked out, trying, and failing, to keep her voice void of emotion.
Creel looked up at Sterling and shook his head in shame. "Mr. Valley's conditioning was broken," he told her simply. "We've been attempting to reinstall it, although his body is giving out faster than expected. It is more than likely he will not survive the night."
And with that Creel turned and continued down the hallway. Sterling gave her one more longing stare, silently begging her for help. She had to remind herself that she despised him, that he deserved what he got. But…
Creel opened the cell directly next to Sterling's, and she was led inside it. One guard set down a white, linen robe and they left her there.
A few minutes later, Selina, now sitting on the small cot in the corner of the room, heard the other cell door creak open. A female voice asked, "Shall we try this again, Mr. Valley?"
He grunted in response and Selina heard a blade unsheathe.
She cringed as he let out his first yell of pain, the blade tearing and ripping at his flesh.
"Who do you serve?" the woman asked.
"The Order of St. Dumas," he replied through gritted teeth.
The blade sliced his flesh again and he groaned. "Who do you serve?" the woman repeated.
"The…the Order of St. Dumas," he stated again.
This went on for nearly an hour, pure agony for the boy in the adjacent cell.
She'd done that to him…
A part of her wanted to say that he deserved it, that he'd probably done much worse things, that he was a horrible person.
But another, weaker voice told her that it was unjust, evil even. The second voice didn't sound like hers, but she listened to it anyway. It was either that, or listen to his screams of pain.
As the time passed, his cries grew quieter and quieter, although Selina kept her ears firmly plugged until she was certain it was over.
Finally, the cell door screeched open, and then slammed shut.
He'd gone quiet. Another hour passed in silence. At one point, she was pretty certain that he'd stopped breathing altogether. She offhandedly called, "You still alive over there?"
There was silence for a few moments until she heard him grunt in response. She took that as a yes.
"You deserve it," she stated,. "Whatever hell they're putting you through, you deserve even worse."
He scoffed.
Sighing, she rested her head back against the cool wall. "How'd we end up like this?" she asked, her false anger vanishing when he didn't put up a fight.
This time, he laughed out loud, although it was pained and labored. "I made a mistake," he said weakly.
She chuckled bitterly. "You're gonna have to be more specific. You've made a lot of those."
He scoffed, again. "My job was to get close to you," he told her. "I'm good at that, getting close to people, getting them to trust me." He went into a fit of coughing before continuing, "But I can never get attached. And I'm really, really good at that."
She smirked. "Apparently not."
He went quiet again.
Selina closed her eyes and eventually dozed off.
She woke with a start as a cage door slammed shut, again.
She could hear Sterling's breath now, hard and labored, probably fresh from another round of 'conditioning'.
After a few minutes, Selina's curiosity got the better of her. "What does conditioning mean?" she asked.
Sterling took a ragged breath and sighed slowly. "Members of the Order are taught to become accustomed extreme pain. It makes us less viable to capture or torture."
She scoffed. "Well if I remember right, you broke pretty easily."
He hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I was. And they weren't happy about it. I was actually supposed to get executed for it, but Galavan's sister vouched for me. They decided to recondition me instead of just killing me."
"Yeah? Could've fooled me," Selina responded.
He chuckled darkly. "Yeah, I probably look like hell, feel like it, too."
A few more hours passed in silence. She was eventually brought a glass of water and a loaf of stale bread to eat, which she practically wolfed down since she hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day prior. At one point or another, she decided to change into the white robe that'd been left for her. There was no point in fighting it anymore.
She would die tonight, one way or another. All of this would be over. In a way, she was almost relieved.
Out of the blue, Sterling said, "I'm sorry, Selina."
She furrowed her brow. "For what?"
"Everything. Lying to you, tricking you," he replied honestly. "I'm sorry for joining the damned Order."
Selina paused. "Why…why did you join them, anyway?"
He sighed. "My parents were in it."
"Are they really dead or did you just make that up?" Selina asked bluntly.
He chuckled. "No, that part was true. A lot of it was true… They were both members of the Order. They were killed on a mission. The Order viewed it as a shameful death, so both of their lifelong pledges to the Order fell to me." He paused. "I was seven."
Selina sat there, staring at the floor, not sure what to say to that. She'd been given a bad draw in life, sure, but his luck was debatably even worse than her own.
"Selina, I have a very…specific skill set. They turned me into a weapon. I did a lot of horrible things…never thought twice about them. Then, a few months ago, I was offered this assignment. You. I was to come here with Galavan, befriend you, make you trust me so he could get close to you. And then…" he trailed off, but Selina sensed there was more.
"Then?" she asked.
He sighed heavily. He went silent for a few minutes and Selina figured that that was the end of the conversation. She laid out on her cot, trying to enjoy her last few hours of life before it'd all be over.
"And then I was supposed to kill you in the end," Sterling said quietly. "If I did it, they said they'd bring me into the Dumas family, debt forgiven, the whole Order at my disposal."
Selina stared at the ceiling. "Huh…that sounds pretty cool," she said emotionlessly.
He hummed sadly in agreement. "Yeah, it did. I was looking at serving the Order for the rest of my life. Selina…I've killed so many people. Fathers, mothers…I slit an eight year-old's throat, once, right in front of her parents…" his voice quivered. "It wasn't even an order; I was just getting information… So, when I saw a chance to get out…" he choked up.
She could hear him weeping.
He didn't speak again.
She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was a monster. He deserved to feel whatever pain was crushing him, physically or emotionally.
But wasn't she the same? Wasn't she the one willing to let Jack blow Sterling's spine out of his back for information? Wasn't she the one who wanted to hunt down and butcher the man who killed her parents? Wasn't she the one who sentenced Sterling to this fate?
The only difference between the two of them: Sterling had been forced down that path.
She'd freely chosen to take it.
Silent tears began to stream down her face. She wasn't scared to die, but she was terrified of what would happen when she was gone. What would Alfred do? What about Bruce? What would they remember her as?
But maybe she deserved to die this way.
This was who she was.
This was who she'd die as.
But maybe…maybe she could do something good with her life. What had Creel called her? The anointed redeemer? Maybe…maybe she could be that. Not for herself or her family, but for the scared boy being tortured in the room next to her. Maybe she could save him.
But the only way for her to do that was to let him kill her.
Would she be able to?
Bruce ran across the entirety of Gotham when he first heard the rumor. All day the Underworld had been stirring. Penguin's top enforcers from throughout the city were converging on a single location, but no one knew why. Then, a street kid who'd been hanging around at the GCPD had heard Detective Gordon go off about Selina Wayne being abducted. The news had spread like wildfire, and Bruce caught wind of it pretty quickly.
He arrived at the window and slipped it open silently. The room was filled to the brim with police officers, thugs, and butlers, an odd mix, but a dangerous one nonetheless.
"Alright, everybody set?" Gordon asked the room, each man loaded up with weapons. "Let's go."
"Whoa, whoa," Bullock said warily. "What's the plan?"
"We get into the building, find Galavan, put a gun in his mouth until he gives up Selina," Gordon told him.
"Then I kill him slowly," Penguin finished.
"No. Then we arrest him," Gordon corrected.
"Yeah, no. Are you nuts?" Penguin demanded. "After all that he has done?"
"He's going to stand trial," Gordon told him mechanically. "Gotham needs to know who he really is."
"Gotham needs him dead!" Penguin shouted.
"Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, can we just stop the bunny and just first get in there, please, chaps?" Alfred growled.
"Yes, let's go," Gordon agreed.
"Seriously, that's it?" a black man in a suit asked. "You have no plan? How are you even going to get into the building?"
"I know a way," Bruce chimed in. Every head in the room snapped towards him, calmly sitting on the windowsill. On the inside, however, he was anything but calm. He purposefully ignored Gordon, choosing to meet the gaze of anyone and everyone else besides him.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, the black man decided to address the elephant in the room. "Who is he?"
"Fox, that's Bruce. Bruce, Fox," Bullock introduced. Bruce gave Fox a nod as he entered, still refusing to look at Gordon.
"You know a way in?" Gordon asked warily.
Bruce rolled his eyes and sharply replied, "Yes, I know a way in, Gordon."
"How do we know you won't stitch us up?" Alfred asked in an accusatory tone. "I mean, you switch sides often enough. How do we know that you're not working with Galavan now?"
Bruce was about to make some witty comeback but Gordon interjected, "He's here to help. Trust me; I've seen how he gets about his friend's safety. You're in, Bruce."
Gordon started to hand Bruce his pistol, to which Bruce cocked an eyebrow and asked, "You really think giving me a gun is a good idea, Gordon?"
Gordon nodded sheepishly and put the gun back in his holster. "Let's go," he told the room.
"People," Fox started with hesitance, "surely we should have a backup strategy. Given the strong possibilities of failure."
"Au contraire, Mr. Fox," Penguin told him. "Failure is not an option."
Fox looked at Gordon, who shrugged in return. "What he said."
Fox nodded slowly. "As you like."
As they moved out, Bruce walked straight up to Gordon and grabbed his collar, pulling him down so they were at eye-level. "I just wanna make one thing clear, Gordon. When all this is done, when Selina is safe, nothing changes between us. If I see you again, I'll kill you. You hear me?" he threatened.
Gordon nodded curtly. "Got it."
"Are you scared?" Sterling asked. The clock above Selina's head had been ticking away. There was less than five minutes left. In five minutes, she'd be dead…
She scoffed quietly. "Sure. Maybe a little. But, mostly, I feel very alive. Happy, even," she told him, and it was true. Every heartbeat, every breath she drew, it counted. It mattered. She'd never thought about it like that before. She was on borrowed time. "I'm going to see my parents," she stated wistfully.
The door at the top of the staircase cracked open and several pairs of footsteps started to descend it. A small group of monks opened her door and she stood up, keeping her head held high.
Galavan smiled evilly at her. "Showtime," he said.
She looked right past him, knocking into him with her shoulder as she exited the room.
Galavan turned to the cage next to hers and told another group of monks, "Bring the boy, too."
Selina got her first look at him since she'd first entered her cell that morning. Some of the color had come back to his face, although his chest was littered in new cuts. They put a cloak around him and unshackled his hands from the ceiling. He stood of his own free power, although he stumbled on his first step. The guards took the pair of them by their arms and led them up the staircase to the elevator.
This was it. Tonight was the night.
The 'Son' of Gotham would die.
And she was okay with it.
Bruce slowly and silently lifted the metal panel covering his exit. Standing not two feet away from him was a monk dressed in a black robe. He set the panel down quietly and lifted himself out of the passage. He took hold of the railing in front of him and, taking a deep breath, launched himself over it and onto the monk's back, knocking them both to the floor. Bruce regained his footing and threw a hard right hook into the man's jaw.
"Thank you, Ted," he muttered before crossing the garage. He unlocked and lifted the garage door, saying, "Come on in." The small army followed after him as he jogged through the complex, taking random cuts and turns through the hallways. Anyone else probably would've gotten lost, but Bruce knew where he was going.
Selina was here, and he had to get to her.
They reached a long, spiral staircase and Bruce didn't hesitate, launching himself up the stairs two or three at a time.
"Oh, for Pete's sake," Bullock complained.
Bruce didn't feel a thing, though. He was too jacked on adrenaline to care that thirty flights of stairs separated him from Selina. Galavan would need a lot more than stairs to stop him.
Selina and Sterling were led into a ballroom, although it didn't seem so grand right then. A ring of monks lined the walls and in the middle of the room sat a single wooden post surrounded by candles.
The guards led her to the post and tied her up. She looked around the clean, warm room. Of all the places to die, this wasn't too bad. It would've been even less horrible had the men surrounding the room not been chanting, "Death to the Son of Gotham, Death to the Son of Gotham," over and over and over on an endless repeat.
She wanted to tell them that they sounded like a broken record player, but figured that that wouldn't help her case very much.
Creel, who'd been sitting in a throne at the other end of the room, stood and approached her. He took the knife that Galavan had been holding earlier, and when he thrust the blade into the air, the crowd fell silent.
He stepped forward to Selina and told her, "Prepare yourself, child."
She scoffed. "You're all idiots," she called sarcastically. "Just wanted to let you know in case you didn't already. Now can you just get it over with?"
He smiled weakly, but turned away from her towards…Sterling. The monks who'd been holding him back released him and he stumbled to the ground. Slowly, he regained his footing as Creel approached him. He held out the blade for Sterling to take. Sterling stared at him in confusion before a wave of understanding passed over his face. "You survived conditioning," Creel told him. "Now prove you are loyal to the Order. Take it and fulfill your destiny."
Sterling held up a shaking hand. Slowly, he took the knife from the old man, who stepped back.
Selina met his eyes. This was it. This was her chance to make up for all of it. She nodded.
He slowly crept forwards, trying not to stumble. He was only a few feet away, five, four, three…
Then he was standing there, scarred and bloody, his body visibly trembling from both fatigue and nerves, a knife in his hand.
"Do it," she whispered. "Please, Ster...Jean, do it. Kill me."
He raised the knife to the center of her chest, the tip catching on her cloak. The blade was quaking in his hand.
"It's okay, Jean," she told him, although her voice was now quivering, as well.
She pictured her mother and what she would do in the situation, if it was Selina's life on the line.
"I forgive you," she told him.
He looked up at her, his eyes glossy and filled with pain and turmoil. "I'm sorry."
He stepped back, removing the tip of the knife from her chest. He turned and walked back to Creel, his head bowed. Creel took the knife from him without a word as Jean secluded back into the crowd of monks.
Creel stepped forward to her.
Selina wanted to scream. Her life would be wasted…
"Ancestors," Creel called to the sky, "be our witness. The prophecy is fulfilled!" He raised the knife.
Then everything went to hell.
A door slammed open and a wave of people came crashing into the room, cops and criminals alike.
Then she saw Bruce standing there, armed with knuckledusters and a knife strapped to his belt. She'd never seen him look so angry before.
The monks converged around her post, armed with knives against the small army's guns.
Both parties froze for a moment, sizing one another up.
Then Creel roared, "Sacrilege!" and his men charged.
Gunfire erupted and Bruce surged forward.
A monk charged to meet him and got a knuckleduster in the mouth for his troubles.
Another grabbed onto his sleeve and took a stab at Bruce's chest, but he deflected it, disarmed the man, and proceeded to snap the man's arm clean in half. Was it overkill? Probably. But he didn't care. A fire had been building up inside of him from the moment he'd heard Selina was in trouble, and he was gonna let it all out.
Another monk charged and Bruce grabbed onto his shirt, kicked his feet out from under him, and slammed him to the ground, stomping him in the head for good measure.
He could see Selina now, but there was one more robed-person standing in his way.
"Sterling…" he growled. "Get out of the way right now. I don't want to hurt you."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bruce, but I can't do that." He raised his knife.
Bruce removed his knuckledusters and drew his own knife from his belt.
Sterling charged. He took a swipe at Bruce's stomach and if he'd had been half a second quicker, Bruce would've been gutted. Instead, Bruce gripped his wrist and kneed him in the gut. Sterling stabbed at his leg, forcing Bruce to deflect it and retreat momentarily.
"You don't need these people," Bruce told him. "You're strong enough without them."
Sterling shook his head in frustration. "No!" he roared. "I have to serve the Order! I-I have to…" although he seemed less sure about it than before.
"We can help you," Bruce stated.
Sterling charged without warning. His blade grazed Bruce's side and he cried out in pain. Sterling kicked him in the side of his leg and he fell to a kneeling position. Sterling raised his knife and plunged it down, but Bruce deflected it, causing the blade to sink into the floor and get stuck.
Bruce punched him hard in the gut, shoving him as far towards Selina's post as possible.
She took the opportunity and kicked him in the back of his knee. He buckled over and Bruce struck at the chance, flipping his knife around and slamming the butt into Sterling's head.
Sterling dropped to the floor, out cold.
Bruce moved quickly, cutting Selina free from the ropes that bound her to the post. He took her hand and turned to the battlefield, noticing what had been going on around them for the first time. The ground was littered with dead monks, but one remained standing in between them and their allies.
And he was staring dead at Bruce.
Gordon shouted, "Drop the knife, old man. It's over."
"So it would seem," he responded, not once removing his gaze from Bruce. "Death to the Son of Gotham," he muttered before launching himself at the two of them.
No, not at the two of them. Just him. Just Bruce.
A gunshot fired and the old man came crashing down to the floor, dead.
Bruce led Selina across the room, giving the last fallen monk a wide berth, just in case. Alfred pulled her into a hug as Gordon and Penguin charged off after Galavan.
"Come on, Miss Wayne. Let's get you out of here, eh?" Alfred said, leading her back to the door they'd entered from.
Bruce followed, but stalled at the door. He took a glance back at the battlefield and his hair stood on end.
Sterling had disappeared.
He got a sneaking suspicion that that wouldn't be the last he heard of Sterling St. Cloud or Jean-Paul Valley.
Bruce led them through the hallways again, wisely choosing to take the elevator to the lobby rather than the stairs.
He remained on edge the whole time, and it was a good thing, too. A monk would've decapitated him had me not been on alert. Instead, Bruce took a cheap shot on the poor bastard. Extreme pain tolerance or not, he wouldn't be walking straight for a while.
They arrived back in the garage and Bruce let out a sigh of relief.
Alfred piped up, "I do believe, Miss Wayne, this falls firmly into the category of 'I told you so'."
"I told her so, too, Alfred," Bruce agreed.
"Yes, well, thank you both for your help," Selina started, now leading the way through the garage. "But I had a perfectly feasible escape plan."
Bruce and Alfred stopped, glancing at one another in both shock and annoyance.
Bruce scoffed quietly and continued after her. "Sure kid," he mumbled.
Alfred broke into one of the fancier cars and they loaded into it, Selina and Bruce in the back seat together.
They were silent for a while. Selina stared out the window, keeping her gaze on the moon.
She had never been more thankful to see it.
Alfred eventually said, "You know, Miss Wayne, I don't always approve of the…company you keep, but I think this one takes the biscuit, don't it?"
"Alfred…" Bruce started in mock awe, "Did you just say something somewhat, unintentionally nice about me?"
Alfred returned his eyes to the road without a response, which Bruce took as a yes.
He glanced over at Selina and was reminded just how beautiful she truly was. "Hey," he started, "I was just thinking, since Sterl…or Jean, rather, is out of the picture, could I take you to your school dance?" he asked hesitantly.
She cracked a small smile. "Really?" she asked. "I almost just got sacrificed and that's what you're thinking about?"
"Yup," Bruce replied simply.
She fully smiled and nodded. "Okay. But only if you behave."
He rolled his eyes and told her, "I'll try my hardest."
"Good," she replied, placing her hand on his own. "I'm looking forward to it, then."
Alfred cleared his throat and asked, "Mr. Kyle, would you like me to drop you off in the Narrows?"
Bruce nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you, Alfred."
The ride finished in silence, but not like the silence before in the prison cells. No, this silence was a content one. There was nothing left to say to one another, so they just sat, enjoying each other's company.
Finally, Alfred pulled over and Bruce climbed out of the car.
He cursed under his breath.
"What's wrong?" Selina asked.
He shook his head. "Nothing, it's just getting colder. Winter's coming…you can feel it."
"Well, if you ever need a warm place to stay, the Manor's always open," she told him.
Bruce smiled. "Thanks, Cat. I'll probably take you up on that, some day."
"Yeah, just make sure to ring, first," Alfred called from the front seat.
Bruce smirked, telling him, "Will do." He lowered his voice and quickly told Selina, "Stay safe. And call me before doing anything about 'you know who'."
She nodded. "Okay. You be safe, too."
"Yeah, right," Alfred muttered. "That boy be safe…that'll be the bloody day." Alfred muttered.
Selina smiled. "Goodbye, Bruce."
"Bye, Cat. I'll see ya around."
The car pulled off and Bruce started towards a nearby fire escape. He climbed up to the roof and removed a small piece of paper from his left breast pocket; the same place where his mother's locked was safely stored away.
He unfolded it and read aloud, "M. Malone."
Winter was coming, and it was coming fast.
He had to find Malone, and soon.
Or at least before Selina managed to…
A/N: *sigh of relief* and the first half of Season Two is over! It's been a long time coming and we almost matched the chapter count for the entirety of Season One, but I'm so happy that we did. Season 2 is my personal favorite season of Gotham to this point (I watched the whole thing in the span of two days) and I'm glad that I got to delve into it so much. Now bring on the Wrath of the Villains! I hope you enjoyed and if you did, please make sure to Favorite/Follow so you don't miss out on future uploads. And if you have any questions/comments/concerns about this piece or anything else I've written, please Review! Thanks for reading and ciao for now!
Oh, and I didn't post a Night-of-Episode-Oneshot this week because I wasn't able to watch it until Friday night because something else came up, although I would've much rather been sitting in the pitch-black in my living room on my couch in my batman pajamas than what I had to/was forced to do last Thursday night. There will be a oneshot next week, though! Also, was anyone else screaming "YES! YES! YES! STAB HIM! STAB HIM! YES! END HIM!" every time Cat stabbed Jeremiah? No? Just me? Well okay then ;)
Also I'm thinking about going back and updating/rewriting the first couple chapters of this series, specifically the first two since they're what people see when they first click on the story. I've grown and improved so much as a writer since I started this story, so I want to go back and fix them. I wanted to let you know since the site will act like I updated the story but there'll be no new chapter posted. Just want to avoid confusion.
Side Note: to the Guest who left the comment earlier about running a certain user off of the platform because of them writing a non-official story about fake characters in a fake scenario on his non-official account, please don't leave your complaints on my page. I'll just delete them anyways so there's no point. You're just wasting your time. If you got a problem with the writer, get an account and have a conversation with them about it. I've personally had conversations with said writer and (as far as I know) he's a pretty chill dude and would be willing to have a discussion with you. Either way I ask you politely: don't associate your hate with my account. It doesn't look good for either of us.
Thanks and best wishes,
-Jak