**EPISODE SIX**
**"THE HERO WHO COULD NOT BE SAVED"**
---
**1. THE WORLD HOLDS - BARELY**
Morning came wrong.
The sun rose, but it hesitated - like it wasn't sure it was allowed to anymore.
Birdsong returned in fragments. Rivers flowed, then stuttered, then continued as if embarrassed by the pause. The world *worked*, but only because it was afraid to stop.
Milo lay beneath a canopy of leaves, breathing shallowly.
Every breath felt borrowed.
Every heartbeat arrived late.
Diana sat beside him, polishing her sword though it needed no cleaning - her hands required the ritual. Tarzan watched the treeline, tense, listening to sounds no one else could hear. Gandalf stood apart, staff planted firmly in the soil, eyes fixed on something only he perceived.
"The Anchor is holding," Gandalf said quietly. "But it is eroding its bearer."
Milo smiled weakly. "Of course it is."
Diana turned sharply. "Do not joke about this."
"I'm not," Milo said. "I'm observing."
The console lay on his chest, dim now, its once-frenzied symbols reduced to a slow, steady pulse.
**ANCHOR INTEGRITY: 67%**
**IDENTITY COHESION: 54%**
**WARNING: MEMORY DESYNCHRONIZATION DETECTED**
Milo frowned.
"Huh," he muttered. "That's new."
---
**2. THE FIRST THING HE LOST**
It began with something small.
Milo looked at Tarzan.
He knew who he was.
He knew what he represented.
But the *name* hesitated.
"M_" Milo paused. "You."
Tarzan stiffened.
Milo blinked rapidly. "Sorry. Just… give me a second."
Diana's voice was tight. "Milo?"
"I know," Milo said quickly. "I know what this means."
Gandalf closed his eyes. "The Anchor consumes the least defended parts of the self first."
"Which would be…?" Diana asked.
"Labels," Gandalf said. "Details. The things we believe are permanent because they feel trivial."
Milo exhaled shakily. "Good. I never liked small talk anyway."
But when he laughed, it sounded wrong-hollow, like an echo arriving without a source.
---
**3. TIME PUSHES BACK**
The attack didn't come with an explosion.
It came with *correction*.
The air folded inward.
The jungle blurred.
Something stepped through reality as though reality were tired of resisting.
They were tall - featureless silhouettes filled with static and broken imagery. Faces flickered briefly within them: heroes, villains, civilians, gods - then vanished.
Gandalf's grip tightened on his staff.
"Editors," he whispered.
"What?" Milo asked.
"Not enemies," Gandalf said grimly. "Not allies. Enforcers. When stories refuse to end, they are sent."
The Editors raised their hands.
The world *rewound* a second...
Then snapped forward violently.
Tarzan was thrown back, slamming into a tree.
Diana raised her shield just in time to absorb a wave of unreality that shattered the ground around her.
Milo screamed.
The Anchor flared.
**ANCHOR RESPONSE: AUTOMATIC**
**COST: IDENTITY DEGRADATION ACCELERATED**
"No!" Milo shouted. "Don't - don't take it from me automatically!"
The console ignored him.
The Editors turned toward Milo.
They *noticed* him.
And that was worse.
---
**4. THE TRUTH GANDALF FEARED**
Gandalf stepped in front of Milo.
"You cannot have him," he said, voice ringing with ancient authority. "Not yet."
One Editor tilted its head.
When it spoke, it used Milo's voice.
**"ANCHORS ARE NOT MEANT TO PERSIST."**
Diana lunged, blade blazing, slicing through one of the figures...
... and it simply *replaced itself*, reforming from discarded possibilities.
"You cannot fight inevitability," the Editor said calmly.
Milo forced himself upright.
"Funny," he said through clenched teeth. "That's literally my job description."
He staggered forward.
"I see it now," Milo said. "You're not here to kill me."
The Editors paused.
"You're here to make sure the ending stays simple."
The Anchor pulsed violently.
Milo gasped as something tore free inside him.
A memory.
His childhood.
Gone.
Not erased... *never existed*.
Diana caught him as he collapsed.
"Milo!" she cried.
He looked up at her, confused.
"You're… important," he said slowly. "I know that."
Her heart shattered quietly.
---
**5. THE CHOICE THAT WASN'T HIS**
The jungle trembled.
A new presence arrived - not tearing through reality, but stepping *carefully*.
Crowe emerged.
Not burned.
Not triumphant.
Changed.
Older.
Quieter.
"The Editors won't stop," Crowe said softly. "They never do."
Diana spun toward him, sword raised. "You did this."
Crowe nodded. "Yes."
Then shook his head. "And no."
He looked at Milo.
"I tried to end stories," Crowe said. "You proved they endure."
Milo squinted at him. "Do I… know you?"
Crowe flinched.
"You will forget me soon," Crowe said. "But listen now."
The Editors advanced.
Crowe raised his hands.
"I can take the Anchor," he said.
Everyone froze.
Gandalf's eyes widened. "You would not survive it."
Crowe smiled faintly. "Neither will he."
Milo frowned. "Anchor?"
Diana's voice broke. "No. There has to be another way."
Crowe met her gaze. "There isn't."
He turned to Milo.
"You saved meaning," Crowe said. "Let me save *you*."
Milo studied him... truly studied him... with what little self remained.
"You're… sorry," Milo said slowly.
Crowe nodded.
Milo smiled.
"Okay," he said. "I trust you."
Diana screamed, "Milo... !"
Too late.
---
**6. THE TRANSFER**
The world went white.
The Anchor tore free.
Crowe screamed... not in pain, but in *comprehension*.
He saw everything Milo had been holding back.
Every contradiction.
Every fragile miracle.
Every reason the universe refused to collapse.
The Editors recoiled.
This was not expected.
Crowe collapsed to his knees, glowing, cracking.
Milo fell... human again.
Empty.
Breathing hard.
Alive.
The console flickered weakly in Crowe's hands.
**ANCHOR TRANSFER COMPLETE**
**NEW BEARER: CROWe**
**PROGNOSIS: TERMINAL**
Crowe laughed softly.
"So," he whispered, "this is what it feels like to matter."
The Editors withdrew.
Not defeated.
Appeased.
---
**7. WHAT A HERO LEAVES BEHIND**
Silence returned.
Milo stared at his hands.
They were steady.
Whole.
His memories flooded back... *all of them*... too fast, too sharp.
He sobbed.
Diana pulled him into her arms.
Tarzan turned away, respectful even in grief.
Gandalf approached Crowe, whose form was already beginning to blur.
"You have chosen a hard redemption," Gandalf said.
Crowe smiled faintly. "Redemption is just another story."
He looked at Milo one last time.
"Make better endings," Crowe said.
Then he was gone.
Not dead.
*Concluded.*
The console chimed softly at Milo's feet.
**ANCHOR STATUS: ACTIVE**
**THREAT DELAYED**
**FINAL CONVERGENCE: INEVITABLE**
Milo wiped his eyes.
"So," he whispered, "that's it, then."
Gandalf's gaze darkened.
"No," he said. "That was mercy."
The sky rumbled.
Somewhere far beyond time...
Something ancient shifted its attention.
---
**8. THE FINAL QUESTION**
Night fell.
The stars returned... but fewer than before.
Milo sat alone by the fire, shaking.
Diana stood beside him.
"You survived," she said.
Milo nodded. "That's what scares me."
The console pulsed once.
A new message appeared.
Not a warning.
A question.
**WHO WRITES THE END?**
Milo closed his eyes.
And for the first time...
He didn't know the answer.
---
**END OF EPISODE SIX**
(TIME, TARZAN AND TERRIBLE IDEAS will return with an exciting new mysterious episode)
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :Maximus.
©All Rights Reserved.