I stared at the croissant in my hand. It quivered. Then whispered:
> "Beneath the syrup, the path awaits."
> "...Okay?" I replied.
The floor beneath the table shimmered. Reality twisted. A glowing circle of breakfast-colored energy formed.
> "Uhh... Mortax?" I said.
He squinted.
> "That shouldn't be happening. Not until Chapter 47."
Then, from the jam jar...
> "Ignore the croissant. It lies."
We all froze.
> "The jam just talked," Kevin whispered.
> "It's always the jam," Arc muttered.
The jam swirled. A little purple face formed in the glass. It looked annoyed.
> "Croissant, you smug flake. You don't get to dictate arcs anymore!"
> "I was sealed for a reason!" the croissant snapped back. "You're just bitter because the editor left you out of Chapter 12!"
> "That chapter was mine!"
The croissant levitated. The jam bubbled. The entire table lifted two inches off the ground.
Mortax backed away.
> "Oh. No. Nope. I'm not intervening in this food fight."
Grubnuk dove for cover under a waffle shield. Clucksworth screamed opera. Kevin tried to reason with a butter knife.
And then— The jam exploded. The croissant exploded back.
The table flipped. The portal roared.
We were all sucked into it.
---
We landed somewhere... else.
Dark. Dusty. Echoing with whispers.
> "Where... where are we?" Lyria asked, rubbing her head.
> "This is... oh no," Arc said. "This is the Backlog Realm."
Shelves towered above us. Loose papers fluttered through the air. Discarded side characters wandered aimlessly, muttering their catchphrases.
A goat in a tuxedo danced past us, whispering, "I was cut for pacing!"
A buff barbarian sobbed over a love letter addressed to someone who never made it into the story.
A villain wearing half a mask and a full cape shouted, "I was supposed to betray someone by now!!"
> "This is where forgotten plot lines go to die," Arc whispered. "This is the editor's graveyard."
I looked up. The portal above had vanished.
Mortax's faint voice echoed through the air:
> "Uh... hang tight. I'll send toast reinforcements."
> "WE'RE GONNA DIE IN A PLOT HOLE," Greg screamed.
> "Don't say 'plot hole,'" I hissed. "It might hear you."
Somewhere in the shadows, something large shifted. A massive shadow loomed.
> "Narrative... shall not be abandoned," it rumbled.
> "Oh gods," Lyria muttered. "There's a boss fight down here."
> "With what?" Kevin asked.
> "Regret," Arc replied. "And probably jam."
---
End of Chapter 38 (Breakfast fractured. Realms entered. Chaos, preserved.)