Fredozy
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Chapter 92: Lunch break
🕑 Added 2025-09-29 09:44:44 +0000 UTCMagic is cheating.
I mean, seriously straight-up, no-rules, game-breaking cheating. It can bend reality, turn life into death and back again, and pull off stunts most mortals would dismiss as the ramblings of a drunk conspiracy theorist at three a.m.
And that’s just normal magic, the casual everyday variety, the kind that can open doors, start fires, and turn your enemies into frogs with a bad hairline.
But here’s the kicker: magic has levels. Oh my goodness, mmmnnn, there are levels to this shit. And one of the most outrageous, slap-you-in-the-face, “this isn’t fair” tiers of magic? The Vampire Diaries magic.
Yes, that one.
See, witches in the TVD universe are the ultimate cheaters. They are the game developers who slipped their own cheat codes into the source code, then had the audacity to play like everyone else is just bad at the game. And yet… people always forget them. The spotlight gets stolen by the broody vampires with jawlines sharp enough to open envelopes, while the witches, the real architects of chaos, get left in the background.
Which is ridiculous, because let’s be honest: if there were no witches, there would be no vampires, no Originals, no hybrids, no daylight rings, no cursed doppelgängers. Literally 90% of the supernatural mess in TVD and TO exists because some witch, somewhere, got bored one evening and said, “You know what? Let’s try this.”
Witches are the reason hexes exist, why dark objects keep showing up in every dusty attic, and why immortality itself even became a thing. They are the blueprint, the origin, the cheat code and the patch notes. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why magic especially TVD magic is the definition of cheating.
Fast forward: it’s been a month since the Beast, Martin Chatwin, was defeated. Or, well… “defeated” isn’t the right word. Let’s be accurate here: he was upgraded into a decorative art piece. Some would call it justice. I prefer to call it a crime against sculpture. Michelangelo would roll in his grave, Rodin would cry into his beard, and if Picasso saw this, he’d probably scream, “Mon Dieu, what the fuck is that composition?!”
But hey art is subjective especially that shit most people call modern art I mean come on that’s all just a piece of nonsense and yet ya’ll are eating it up.
And speaking of bad art… around this same point in the original timeline, a certain blonde, nicely-shaped, glasses-wearing lady dating a nerd turned herself into a Niffin just to beat Martin. Plot-wise? Not bad, honestly. But oh well, whatever. Different show, different rules.
Now, life in Fillory had settled into something resembling peace. The High King did his kingly things, subjects made their usual noise, and chaos brewed in corners the way it always does. But today? Oddly enough, it was the complete opposite. Silence. Not a peep. Not even a suspicious rustle of leaves.
Fillory was empty.
Oh, no, no, no—don’t panic. Not “existential nothingness” empty. The trees were still there, the sky still annoyingly blue, the castles stubborn as ever. But apart from that? No life. No animals, no subjects, no courtiers, no annoying little gnomes popping out to sing about carrots. Just… empty. The kind of empty that made you look around and think, “Did Thanos snap here too?”
And in the middle of all that quiet sat Kai.
One hand holding a blood bag like it was fine wine, the other lazily twirling the straw as he sipped. Across from him, petrified but with his head restored just enough to speak, was Martin.
The Beast’s lips curled in irritation. “Did anyone ever tell you… you can be a bit taken away with how you do things?”
Kai blinked at him, then chuckled. “Oh, don’t be such a critic. It’s in the script, you see. Very well written, I tell ya. Pulitzer-worthy stuff.”
He slurped from the bag, swallowed, then smirked. “Besides, I might be an annoyance to you but I’m sure my readers love me. Right, folks?”
Martin frowned. “Who the hell are you talking to? And why are you looking up?”
“Oh, my bad.” Kai waved a hand, sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Thought just occurred to me.”
Martin scoffed. “Of course it did.”
Kai leaned forward, eyes glinting. “But think about it. How sure are we that we’re not just a grand entertainment for higher life forms? Like, we’re not people, we’re someone’s Netflix binge.” He gestured broadly. “Gods, mortals, same difference. All of them watching, judging, laughing at the mess.”
That caught Martin’s interest. “Hmph. You really think the gods only see us as entertainment? Well i wouldn’t really say that in a simple way”
“Oh, enlighten me,” Kai teased, lifting the blood bag in a mock toast.
So Martin did. He spoke of gods, of fate, of inevitability. He wove the old words about destiny and threads and how none could escape it.
Kai stopped sipping, narrowed his eyes, then barked a laugh. “Yeah, yeah—the three ragged old bitches of fate. You know, I always thought they liked to screw with us, but maybe the truth is simpler. Maybe after billions of years of existence… they just need to stop all that scissoring with one another and go for a good dick.”
Martin blinked. “You mean cutting the threads?”
“Oh, there’s that too,” Kai waved him off. “But I think the readers get what I’m saying.”
Martin rolled his eyes.
Kai leaned back, grin widening. “As I was saying, they seriously need to get laid. Hard. Instead of screwing us up every damn day of our lives. But hey—I’m expecting them to come knocking soon anyway, just to punish me for screwing with the plot.”
Martin sighed, deadpan. “You are… severely unwell. If I had to diagnose you, I’d say you’re suffering from acute narcissistic delusion layered with dissociative awareness, possible mania, and an unhealthy addiction to breaking the fourth wall.”
Kai burst out laughing. “Oh hehehehe if only you knew one if the variant of the guy that literally brought me here. Besides you’re one to talk! You’re literally soulless.” He lifted the blood bag. “And I have all I need right here, thanks.”
He glanced around the barren Fillory, then added “Doesn’t this just want to make it walk around with your eyes closed and enjoy nature?” something so absurd Martin just gave him a blank, impassive stare. Slowly, the Beast raised an eyebrow, glancing at his petrified body, then back to Kai.
Kai shrugged. “Okay, point taken.”
Martin leaned forward as much as his stone body allowed. “You still haven’t told me. What have you done? Where are we?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Kai sang in a sing-song voice. “We are in Fillory.”
“I can see that,” Martin snapped. “But it feels… different.”
Kai grinned. “That’s because this, my dear Martin, is the brilliant work of geniuses Who decided to create a space for containment purposes and believe me it’s something worth being called godly.”
Martin narrowed his eyes. “This… is a construct. A world built for an intended target.”
Kai pointed directly at him. “Bingo. A prison world. And congratulations you’re the intended target.”
Martin’s jaw tightened. Disbelief etched into his face. “Impossible. It feels the same. The wellspring is here. The magic flows.”
Kai shrugged, casual as a bartender pouring shots. “That’s the beauty of it. I mirrored Fillory down to the atoms. You won’t know the difference, because there isn’t one. The only difference? It’s empty. This whole place exists for you and only you… ok not just you but let’s go with that for now.”
Martin’s voice dropped. “The magic required would be—”
“Astronomical? Yeah.” Kai smirked. “But the magic I siphoned from you, plus the fact that I’m an Original meaning I am an infinite generator of magic, baby that made this possible. This is your prison. And my panic room, should I ever need one.”
He stood, tossing the drained blood bag aside. “Lunch break’s over.”
As he turned, his tone shifted mocking, but edged with truth. “You know, most of those gods you mentioned? They’re not gods at all. Just higher life forms playing dress-up. Power, hierarchy, worship it’s all a system. And if that’s true…” He paused, frowning.
“Does that mean Ryan botched my reincarnation? Oh, that motherfucker.”
He sighed dramatically. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. One variant of him literally looks like a walking cheese pizza.”
Martin blinked. “What?”
“Nothing.” Kai smiled. “Good talk, Martin. I’ll see you later.”
With a flick of his wrist, Martin’s head turned to stone, silencing him mid-scowl.
Kai exhaled, surveying the quiet world. “I need more people in here.”
He snapped his fingers then vanished.
Welcome to season 2 I guess
Comments
Jacob Fultz
Another plz today?
