“Are we going to die?” Cassie asked, panicked, and for good reason.

“Cassie, look at the red wallpaper,” Andrew said, holding her. “There’s no Plot Cycle. We are not participating in an apocalypse. Just breathe and observe.”

Cassie’s eyes glazed over as she stared at the red wallpaper.

I did too. Sure enough, there was no Plot Cycle there; there was no indication at all that we were in a storyline.

A parade of vicious dinosaur ghosts tearing up the streets, threatening an apocalypse, all so that they could deliver a greeting. See you soon, it had said.

“It’s a message from Lucien Graves,” I said, barely able to catch my breath. Still trying desperately to look calm. “I guess he couldn’t afford a stamp.”

I just hoped they weren’t watching too closely.

“What was that about?” Michael asked, trying to turn his fear into anger. “When we meet this guy…” he said under his breath, then walked away to his room.

“See you soon,” Logan said, recounting the message, as calmly as he could muster. “So he knows that we know about him. He knows we’re headed to meet him. I guess the whole they can’t listen in while we’re planning thing was a bit optimistic.”

That hit like a tidal wave.

“We don’t know that,” Camden said.

“What are we supposed to do?” Bobby asked. “If they can see every conversation we have, then there is no way for us to win.”

Was Logan right? Was I wrong about how the planning status worked?

It had been all that made sense. Everything lined up so well; the idea that your opponent would not be able to listen in while you planned your strategy for defeating them just made sense.

But then this Narrator had just dropped an apocalypse at our door to say hello, right when we were in the middle of planning.

“Maybe we should rethink this entire thing,” Logan said. “What did we have to gain by dragging the Narrators into the story? That part was the least clear. Trying to give Carousel power over them by making them characters in the metanarrative sounds pretty clever, but it’s based on nothing but guesses built on top of other guesses.”

“Calm down,” Camden said. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” Logan asked. “We are sitting here planning on how we are going to handicap an immortal sorcerer whose power we don’t understand, and he sends a dino parade to greet us. It means that they were listening in, that we are On-Screen, at least for them.”

“It doesn’t mean that at all,” Camden said. “Just think it through.”

Everyone had been talking, just releasing tension, but then they stopped talking and listened to Camden, hoping he had some explanation.

“We don’t know that this parade got sent because they could hear what we were saying,” Camden said. “I mean, look at the red wallpaper right now. Our planning status is active. Kimberly, do you see any cameras?”

Kimberly looked around, but it was just a show. She had been watching like a hawk, using her Flashbulb Phobia trope.

“There are no cameras,” Kimberly said. “There are never any cameras when the planning status is active. I told you that.”

“Then how did he know?” Logan asked. He wasn’t being combative, not really. He was thinking out loud. “Unless, of course, suddenly we went off the radar, so he sent the parade just to interrupt us, maybe scare us.”

Okay, Logan, pick a side in the argument.

“Exactly,” Camden said. “He could have been planning this parade for days. We have no way of knowing. He might have just been waiting for us to go Off-Screen. Heck, he might even know that they can’t see us while we’re planning. That makes just as much sense as anything. That message he sent didn’t imply any specific knowledge.”

I was lucky that Camden was there to defend my plan, because I certainly wasn’t in a state to.

I was torn between wanting to rip my I don’t like it here trope off and throw it in the trash can, and wanting to keep it equipped forever in case the apocalypse came back. The fear and anxiety it was giving me was fierce and all-consuming.

I was having a panic attack. At least the last time, I was able to channel this energy into running.

I didn’t even notice that Ramona had her arm around me.

No.

If she could notice I was struggling, then everyone could notice too. I was exposed.

I stood up, realizing I had been on my knees, and turned around. It might have been abrupt, and it might have felt like I was jerking away from her, and maybe I was.

She looked like I had hurt her feelings.

I quickly unequipped I don’t like it here. Instant relief washed over me like warm water on a cold day.

“Are you okay?” she asked, holding on to my arm.

I nodded. I was still a little raw, and even without the trope, fear and anxiety were not far away, but I had control of myself again.

I wanted to run and close myself up in my hide-a-bed.

“All I’m saying is that there is no reason for us to believe that this greeting of his should change our plans,” Camden said.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Logan argued, “but it’s worth pointing out that you wouldn’t be going to this meeting to begin with.”

“Which is why it’s easier for me to be objective,” Camden fired back. “Even if they were listening to us, that doesn’t mean our plan of running Ida Rae is bad. In fact, the soundness of the idea might have been the very reason to send such a strong message.”

Logan had taken enough time, and he saw the logic, but he was afraid, and who could blame him?

“I’m fine,” I said to Ramona, who was still trying to check on me.

She held onto me still.

“I said I’m fine.” I pulled away.

There was still a large discussion, with many voices being thrown around; it wasn’t clear who was talking to whom.

“We need to go soon,” I said.

Suddenly, they weren’t talking.

“You mean go to the casino soon? You mean go on the storyline soon?” Logan asked.

“Look,” I said, “We got our call to adventure. Not only did we have the guy at the diner with the check, but there was also an article in the newspaper that Camden found, and now Graves has escalated the situation. Next time, it won’t just be a call to adventure; it will be more forceful. He’s bound by Carousel’s rules, too, which means he can’t just drag us into a storyline or anything like that, not without a warning.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“And we have been warned,” Camden added.

They all seemed to give it thought.

Everything had warnings and omens in Carousel. It wasn’t just how the stories were designed; it was how the magic worked. Limitation equals power. The warning isn’t just because Carousel is so considerate; it’s because by giving a warning, you can later justify the use of terrible force.

It’s storytelling.

Lucien Graves had given us a warning. I didn’t want to stick around to see what he did next.

“We haven’t finished scouting the storyline,” Kimberly said.

I nodded.

“Well, let’s get to it.”

“Danger around every corner, that sort of thing,” Sal said. “In many ways, this is a return to your roots with your breakout in The Final Straw, though this is a bit more grounded… and gritty.”

Like always when scouting a storyline out, Kimberly had called her supposed talent agent, Sal.

“Final question,” she said. “Is the storm itself dangerous, or is it just a setting?”

“Well, they say the greatest monster of all is man,” Sal said. “This is a murder mystery. So the focal point is going to be on this killer they cast.”

Kimberly told him goodbye, and they had their little exchange, and then she hung up the phone.

We had spent an entire day just making sure we understood this storyline. And as much as we looked, all we could find were the basics. Cassie’s I’m Blocked trope didn’t work at all. That told us it was a mundane story, with no magic and no monsters.

Beyond that, there wasn’t a lot set in stone, as Ida Rae did not have a defined setting or time. It couldn’t. It adapted to wherever you activated it.

It was going to be a straightforward murder mystery, mostly.

We had picked our team. It was Kimberly, Antoine, Logan, Andrew, Bobby, and I.

Under different circumstances, we might have brought along one of the low-level players to help level them up by letting them be First or Second Blood. But in a murder mystery, blood control was more or less useless. The enemy would have some trope determining who they killed, and if we brought along an underpowered player, they could end up being killed unceremoniously, or even Off-Screen.

No, this storyline was not about leveling up, although it would be nice.

It was about leveling the playing field

. Because even an all-powerful immortal sorcerer wouldn’t dare interfere too much while a storyline was running. It wouldn’t matter how many omens were in the casino; they would all disappear instantly.

Outside, the omens that had been along the path the parade took were still mostly missing. The apocalypse had deactivated them.

“He rolled out the red carpet for us,” Logan said.

And that was almost literal, because there had been carnage. Apocalypse omens weren’t really omens so much as they were paths of destruction.

The whole team came along to see us off. They had Lila to help keep them safe from omens on the way back. I think they just didn’t want to be alone in the Loft for a little while after the Apocalypse scare.

It was a long walk from downtown to southeastern Carousel. We hadn’t been there since the werewolf storyline. The damage was worse there; most of the buildings were destroyed.

The parade had not been so orderly when it began, apparently. Palm reader shops, souvenir stalls, and tourist traps lay in disarray. NPCs were scattered about.

We didn’t start to see omens until we got closer to the casino.

Of course, he couldn’t have started the parade in the casino parking lot. That would be too close to home. That would be too close to where he was.

We made it as far as the valet area in front of the building.

It was a nice casino, much nicer than it had been when I was there in a broken dimension in Post-Traumatic, but it was the same building.

Placed against a backdrop of nature and splendor, it somehow still managed to seem ominous, like the building itself was staring at you. And even if it wasn’t, there were plenty of people inside the rooms staring out the windows in the upper stories of the hotel, some of whom shimmered in the light.

“Can’t go any further,” I said. “The omens are all over the place, walking around in there.”

And so we were there to say our goodbyes.

“Ramona,” I said, and gestured for her to come talk to me away from everyone else.

We went and stood near some large pallets of flowers that were being unloaded from a truck. A dark-haired woman in a black dress was inspecting them, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention to us.

Ramona went for a hug and a kiss, so I did too.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I acted earlier,” I said.

“And I thought you were going to give me flowers,” she said.

I could feel like she wanted me to say something, but I didn’t know what.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she said. “I was just concerned.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, well… it happens. I didn’t mean to brush you off, I just… I’m just like that.”

And then for some reason I patted her on the upper arm/shoulder area and said, “We’ll talk after. I’ve gotta go catch a killer.”

“I mean, it seemed like you were embarrassed,” Ramona said.

“Oh no. I don’t like people seeing me like that, is all. And I don’t like attention being drawn to me. But you’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just me.”

Awkward. I hoped that if I were quick, it wouldn’t be.

The woman with dark hair and black dress walked past us, turned to look at Ramona, and said, “You look beautiful.”

There was something odd about the woman, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She appeared to be an ordinary NPC.

“Thank you,” Ramona said, shaken, confused.

The woman walked away, shooting me a sharp glance.

The woman was carrying one of the flowers from the pallets that were now being hauled around the side of the building.

I should have given a flower to Ramona. They were right there.

“You are,” I said. “You know, beautiful.”

Nice recovery.

Ramona didn’t respond, and I didn’t know what to say, so I gestured for us to rejoin the group.

I glanced around, embarrassed at how I’d handled that brief exchange. The woman in the black dress was gone.

Thank goodness.

We all said our goodbyes and parted ways. They were familiar with the procedures and plans for dealing with our absence. In fact, there was talk of them finding a storyline to try to find another Writ of Habitation.

“Is everything okay?” Kimberly asked.

“Yep,” I said. “Storyline’s a go.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know how you and Antoine do it. Romance is just not fit for this place.”

“I’m not so sure,” she said. “Sometimes I think the Carousel is the perfect place to fall in love.”

Of course, she would.

“You mean to trauma bond,” I said.

“First one, then the other,” she said.

As we drew closer to the hotel entrance, we noticed a sconce with a fancy lantern on it on the side of the building.

It would have to do.

I stared back at the group as they walked away. The idea was that they could run The Final Straw to get groceries since we couldn’t go to Eternal Savers Club just yet. I wished them luck, but as I stared, I saw something in Ramona’s hand.

A single, red flower.

How did she get that?

Antoine took out the rooster-shaped weathervane and some zip ties, and once the others were far enough away that we couldn’t see them, he fastened it to the sconce on the side of the casino. He had to climb up the wall a little bit to be able to do it, but I could see he enjoyed showing off.

Wait a second, had the woman in black given that rose to Ramona? Something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

Something…

Suddenly, the wind picked up, and all those poor flowers being loaded off the truck were instant victims.

A storm was rolling in. The weathervane was really testing those zip ties as it spun and spun and spun.

“It’s showtime,” Antoine said.

Lightning flashed, drowning out everything I could see.

And suddenly it was raining, raining so hard I could hardly see in front of me.

People in cars were pulling out of the parking lot. Everyone was leaving.

The casino had turned dark in the storm. Lightning flashed overhead, and up above, on top of the building where it properly belonged, the weathervane spun fast.

I turned, and the others were gone.

All of them, except for Daphne, of course, who hardly left my side these days.

She grabbed onto my arm and kissed me on the cheek. We ran in under the awning.

“You know you’re going to have to cut this out when we go On-Screen,” I said. “The last thing we need is Carousel teasing me about a romance.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” she said. Her hair was jet black, but it had a raven-blue tinge to it in the strange light under the storm. She held out a small rectangular piece of paper as we ran to get cover underneath the awning at the front of the casino.

I started to read it aloud, “We are pleased to invite you to the wedding of Riley Lawrence and Daphne Sinclair…”

I looked at her.

“You set this up, didn’t you?” I asked.

No wonder I wasn’t wearing my hoodie anymore. You couldn’t wear a hoodie when you were trying to court someone like Daphne Sinclair. She was a button-up shirt kind of lady.

“Don’t start with that,” she said. “Don’t you dare start with that. Carousel likes production value, isn’t that what you always say? Now that we’re dating, it’s going to use it.”

She smiled that cute smile that always drove me crazy.

As nervous as I was about running the storyline and finding a killer, I was probably more nervous about getting fake married.

But then, if I were going to get fake married, it would have to be to a girl like Daphne.

How could she ever pick me?

“We’re going to do this, and we’re going to survive,” she said. “I love you, Riley. I’ll love you till the day you die.”

“I love you, too,” I said. And I did. My heart beat like a clothes dryer with an unbalanced load.

We found Kimberly, Antoine, and the others inside the casino.

It almost looked like a luxury hotel all of a sudden. Vintage. Of course, they had to give it a makeover for a fake wedding as part of the storyline. In all of our research, we never saw that the plot to Ida Rae involved the wedding.

Strange.

I put my hand on the small of Daphne’s back and guided her inside.

Transcription: We regret to inform the viewing audience that tonight’s showing of Ida Rae has been canceled. Instead, you are all cordially invited to watch the remake of a cult horror classic, Homibridal Part II

For those that don’t remember Homibride:

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/65629/the-game-at-carousel-a-horror-movie-litrpg/chapter/1386915/tales-of-carousel-ill-love-you-till-the-day-you

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep