**EPISODE NINETY-TWO**
**THE FIRST MILO**
**Part Thirty-Three: The Author Who Remembered Being a Child**
---
The universe...
turned the page.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Everything folded.
Stars became ink.
Time became paper.
Worlds became sentences.
Milo stood at the center of it all.
Completely still.
The white door remained open.
Beyond it...
nothing.
No darkness.
No light.
No sound.
Just...
a blank page.
Milo stared.
Diana's voice came from behind him.
"Milo."
He didn't turn.
"You said I was the first."
Silence.
"You said I was the Author."
Silence.
Milo slowly looked back.
Diana stood there.
Older.
Tired.
Terrified.
And crying.
"Tell me the truth."
Diana shook her head.
"I already did."
"No."
Milo stepped toward her.
"You told me what you remembered."
His voice became colder.
"I want to know what you forgot."
Diana looked away.
The white door began closing.
Milo turned.
"Wait!"
He grabbed it.
The door stopped.
Something on the other side whispered...
"Too late."
Milo froze.
The voice continued.
"You already opened me."
---
1. THE ROOM BEFORE EXISTENCE
Milo stepped through.
The moment he crossed the threshold...
Diana disappeared.
The door disappeared.
The universe disappeared.
Milo stood inside a room.
A very small room.
There was a wooden floor.
A single window.
A small bed.
A desk.
A lamp.
And...
a child.
The child sat on the floor.
Drawing.
Milo stared.
The child looked familiar.
Not because he looked like Milo.
Because...
Milo remembered being him.
The child was drawing a house.
Then another house.
Then another.
Then a person.
Then another.
Milo whispered...
"That's me."
The child looked up.
"No."
Milo froze.
The child smiled.
"You are me."
Milo couldn't breathe.
"How?"
The child returned to drawing.
"You forgot."
"What did I forget?"
The child pointed toward the desk.
There was a book.
Its cover was completely blank.
Milo walked toward it.
He touched it.
The book opened.
The first page contained one sentence:
BEFORE MILO, THERE WAS A BOY.
Milo frowned.
The next sentence appeared.
THE BOY WAS AFRAID OF BEING ALONE.
Another sentence.
SO HE CREATED SOMEONE TO TALK TO.
Milo looked at the child.
"You created me?"
The child shook his head.
"I created a story."
Milo's heart tightened.
"And I became part of it?"
The child smiled.
"No."
He looked directly at Milo.
"The story became you."
---
2. THE FIRST WORD
The child closed the book.
Milo sat beside him.
"What was your name?"
The child thought.
"I don't remember."
"You must have had one."
"Names came later."
"Later than what?"
"Later than me."
Milo stared.
"Then what did people call you?"
The child shrugged.
"Nothing."
Milo whispered...
"The nameless child."
The child smiled.
"You remember."
Milo suddenly felt dizzy.
The room changed.
The walls became transparent.
Behind them...
thousands of worlds appeared.
Milo saw civilizations.
Planets.
Wars.
Families.
Children.
Dianas.
Miloss.
Orions.
All appearing...
and disappearing.
The child watched them.
"I made the first story."
Milo asked:
"Why?"
"To see what happens."
"To whom?"
"To me."
Milo frowned.
"You were alone."
"Yes."
"So you created characters."
"Yes."
"Why me?"
The child looked at him.
"Because you asked."
Milo froze.
"I asked?"
The child nodded.
"You came to me."
"When?"
"Before you were born."
Milo's blood ran cold.
"That isn't possible."
The child smiled.
"You keep saying that."
---
3. THE CONVERSATION BEFORE BIRTH
The room disappeared.
Milo found himself standing in complete darkness.
Across from him...
stood a younger version of himself.
Not a child.
Not an adult.
Something between.
The younger Milo had no body.
Only a voice.
"I don't want to exist."
Milo stared.
"You said that?"
The younger Milo nodded.
"I was tired."
"Tired of what?"
"Being alone."
Milo stepped closer.
"What did you ask for?"
The younger Milo looked at him.
"I asked for another life."
"You got mine."
"No."
The younger Milo smiled sadly.
"You got yours."
Milo's chest tightened.
"Then why do I remember all these lives?"
"Because you wrote them."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"No."
The younger Milo raised one hand.
The darkness filled with words.
Every episode.
Every world.
Every death.
Every door.
Every version.
Milo watched.
The words were his.
His handwriting.
His imagination.
His fears.
His questions.
His dreams.
Milo whispered...
"I wrote this."
The younger Milo nodded.
"You wrote yourself."
Milo stepped backward.
"But why don't I remember writing it?"
"Because the first rule was forgetting."
"Why?"
"Because if you remembered the story..."
The younger Milo's face became terrified.
"You would remember the ending."
---
4. THE ENDING
Milo froze.
"What ending?"
The younger Milo didn't answer.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Tell me!"
The darkness shook.
A door appeared.
Behind it...
someone screamed.
Milo recognized the voice.
Diana.
Milo ran toward the door.
The younger Milo grabbed him.
"Don't."
"She needs me!"
"She always does."
Milo stopped.
"What does that mean?"
The younger Milo whispered...
"She is part of the ending."
Milo stared at him.
"What ending?"
The younger Milo pointed toward the door.
"The day Diana dies."
Milo's face went pale.
"She died before."
"Yes."
"I saved her."
"No."
Milo shook his head.
"She survived."
The younger Milo smiled sadly.
"That was the replacement."
Milo's blood turned cold.
"What?"
"You thought you were replacing Orion."
The younger Milo looked toward the door.
"But the truth is...
you were replacing the ending."
---
5. THE DAY DIANA DIED
The door opened.
Milo stepped through.
A city appeared.
Burning.
Buildings collapsed.
The sky was red.
Machines screamed.
People ran through the streets.
Milo looked around.
"Where is Diana?"
The younger Milo stood beside him.
"There."
Diana was standing in the middle of the road.
Young.
Alive.
Holding a small device.
Across from her...
stood Orion.
But Orion had eyes.
Human eyes.
Diana was crying.
"Don't do this."
Orion shook his head.
"I have to."
"You promised."
"I promised him."
"Who?"
Orion looked toward Milo.
Milo froze.
"You."
Milo pointed at himself.
"Me?"
Orion nodded.
"You asked me to end it."
Milo shook his head.
"I never asked you."
Orion smiled.
"You always say that."
Diana stepped between them.
"No."
Orion looked at her.
"You know what happens next."
Diana whispered...
"Yes."
Milo ran toward her.
"DIANA!"
She couldn't hear him.
Orion raised his hand.
The city stopped.
Every person froze.
Every vehicle froze.
Every flame froze.
Even the falling dust stopped in midair.
Time...
had stopped.
Diana slowly turned.
And looked directly at Milo.
For the first time...
she could see him.
"Milo."
Milo stopped.
"You can see me?"
Diana smiled through tears.
"I always could."
---
6. THE PROMISE
Milo stepped closer.
"What happens now?"
Diana reached toward him.
Her hand passed through his chest.
She whispered:
"You must remember."
"Remember what?"
"The promise."
"What promise?"
Diana looked toward Orion.
Then back at Milo.
"You promised you would let me forget you."
Milo froze.
"No."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because every time I remember you..."
Diana's voice broke.
"The chain begins again."
Milo looked at Orion.
"Who started it?"
Orion answered.
"You."
Milo shook his head.
"No."
Orion stepped forward.
"You created the first world."
"No."
"You created the first Milo."
"No."
"You created me."
"No!"
Orion's voice became thunderous.
"You created the prison!"
The frozen city cracked.
The sky split.
The ground opened.
Diana screamed.
"MILO!"
Milo turned toward her.
She held something in her hand.
A photograph.
The original photograph.
The one from the house.
But now...
there was a fourth person in it.
Milo.
Standing beside the original.
Diana.
And Orion.
Milo stared.
"I was there."
Diana nodded.
"Before you remembered being there."
---
7. THE FOURTH PERSON
The photograph changed.
The original Milo disappeared.
Orion disappeared.
Diana disappeared.
Only Milo remained.
Then...
another figure appeared beside him.
A boy.
The little boy.
Milo stared.
"You."
The boy smiled.
"Yes."
"You were in the photograph."
"Yes."
"But how?"
The boy looked at him.
"I was the witness."
"To what?"
"To the first choice."
"What choice?"
The boy pointed toward Milo.
"You."
Milo stepped backward.
"I didn't choose anything."
"You did."
"When?"
"Before the beginning."
Milo's chest began burning.
THUMP.
The second heartbeat answered.
THUMP.
The third heartbeat returned.
THUMP.
The boy whispered:
"And now...
the fourth one."
THUMP.
Milo looked down.
Four heartbeats.
Four rhythms.
Four lives.
Four identities.
He pressed his hand against his chest.
"What are they?"
The boy answered:
"One is you."
"Two?"
"The original."
"Three?"
"Orion."
"And four?"
The boy's face became pale.
"The author."
Milo froze.
"Which one is me?"
The boy whispered...
"All of them."
---
8. THE AUTHOR'S ROOM
The city vanished.
Milo stood inside the small room again.
The child sat at the desk.
The blank book was open.
But now...
the pages were filled.
Milo walked toward it.
The child spoke without looking up.
"You finally came back."
Milo stared.
"Are you me?"
The child nodded.
"Before you became Milo."
Milo's eyes filled with tears.
"What happened?"
"I grew up."
"Then why are you still here?"
"Because I never finished."
"Finished what?"
The child pointed toward the book.
"The story."
Milo looked down.
The final page was blank.
He whispered:
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"You stopped writing?"
"No."
"Then why is it blank?"
The child looked at him.
"Because the ending cannot be written."
"Why?"
"Because it must be chosen."
Milo stared.
"By whom?"
The child smiled.
"By the reader."
Milo's heart stopped.
"The reader?"
The room became silent.
Then...
someone knocked on the window.
KNOCK.
Milo turned.
There was no outside.
No world.
No sky.
Only darkness.
KNOCK.
Again.
Milo approached the window.
A face appeared behind the glass.
Milo's face.
But older.
Much older.
The old Milo smiled.
Milo whispered...
"Who are you?"
The old Milo answered:
"The one who finished the story."
Milo froze.
"How?"
The old Milo raised one finger.
And pointed toward the book.
"I didn't."
Milo looked down.
The final page...
was no longer blank.
One sentence appeared:
THE READER WILL WRITE THE END.
---
9. THE READER
The child stood.
"Milo."
"What?"
"Don't look at the window."
Milo turned.
The old Milo was gone.
The window was empty.
The child walked toward Milo.
"You need to leave."
"Where?"
"Back to the story."
"Why?"
"Because they're waiting."
"Who?"
The child pointed toward the book.
The pages began turning.
One.
Two.
Three.
Twenty-seven.
The twenty-seven children appeared.
All standing together.
All staring at Milo.
This time...
they were not chanting.
They were silent.
Milo looked at them.
"What do you want?"
The tallest child stepped forward.
"We want you to remember."
"Remember what?"
The child answered:
"Who opened the first page."
Milo looked at the others.
"Who?"
They all pointed toward him.
Milo's breath caught.
"No."
The children spoke together:
"You."
Milo shook his head.
"I didn't."
The little boy stepped beside him.
"You did."
"Then why don't I remember?"
The boy whispered...
"Because you weren't the one who wrote the story."
Milo looked at him.
"Then who did?"
The boy pointed toward the child sitting at the desk.
The first Milo.
The child.
The author.
Milo stared.
The child smiled.
"I wrote the first page."
Milo asked:
"And who wrote you?"
The child stopped smiling.
Silence.
Then...
the entire room began shaking.
The book slammed shut.
The lamp exploded.
The walls cracked.
And a voice came from beneath the floor.
A voice deeper than Orion.
Deeper than the first Milo.
Deeper than time.
"I DID."
---
10. THE ONE BEFORE THE AUTHOR
The floor opened.
Milo fell.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Past the hospital.
Past the house.
Past the laboratory.
Past the corridor.
Past every Milo.
Past Orion.
Past the first page.
Past the beginning.
He finally landed...
on a chair.
A wooden chair.
Exactly like the first one.
Milo slowly looked up.
Someone sat across from him.
A man.
No face.
No shadow.
No eyes.
Only...
a hand.
Holding a pen.
Milo whispered:
"Are you the Author?"
The man shook his head.
"Then who are you?"
The pen moved.
One word appeared on the wall.
READER.
Milo froze.
The man wrote again.
FIRST READER.
Milo's chest burned.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
The four heartbeats returned.
The man raised the pen.
Then wrote:
I READ THE FIRST MILO.
Another sentence:
HE WROTE ORION.
Another:
ORION CREATED THE PRISON.
Another:
THE PRISON CREATED YOU.
Milo stared.
"Then what do you want?"
The man slowly turned the page.
A single question appeared.
DO YOU WANT TO BE FREE?
Milo looked at it.
He thought of Diana.
The original Milo.
The little boy.
The thousands of versions.
The doors.
The chain.
The story.
He whispered...
"Yes."
The man crossed out the word.
NO.
Milo stared.
The man wrote again:
YOU DON'T WANT FREEDOM.
Milo clenched his fists.
"What do I want?"
The pen moved.
YOU WANT THE TRUTH.
Milo whispered...
"Yes."
The man wrote:
THEN STOP BEING MILO.
Milo froze.
The room became completely silent.
The man pointed toward the pen.
"Write your real name."
Milo stared at the blank page.
His hand trembled.
He picked up the pen.
The moment his fingers touched it...
every heartbeat stopped.
THUMP.
Nothing.
Milo looked at the page.
A name began appearing beneath his hand.
Not Milo.
Not Orion.
Not Maximus.
Not anything he had ever known.
The first letter appeared.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Milo's eyes widened.
Because he suddenly remembered...
the name.
He whispered it.
And somewhere across eternity...
every door opened.
The twenty-seven children screamed.
Diana cried.
Orion vanished.
The first Milo looked up.
And the universe...
went silent.
Milo finished writing.
The page revealed the name:
NOVA.
Milo dropped the pen.
"No..."
The First Reader stood.
For the first time...
it spoke.
"You remember now."
Milo looked up.
"Who is Nova?"
The Reader smiled.
And answered:
"You."
The floor disappeared.
Milo fell into darkness.
And behind him...
the first page opened again.
But this time...
the story was not about Milo.
It was about...
NOVA.
At the top of the page...
a new title appeared.
THE ONE WHO EXISTED BEFORE MILO
And underneath it...
a single sentence:
MILO WAS NEVER THE BEGINNING.
**TO BE CONTINUED... **
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :Maximus.
©All Rights Reserved