Stella sat with Atria at the coffee table in their Tokyo apartment.  Colour swatches covered the table.  Stella still couldn’t believe that in addition to paying for the apartment while Adam convalesced, WorldSoft Games had also volunteered to cover the cost of holding their wedding in Japan.

    “You can’t keep pushing this off on me,” Atria said.  “You need to make your own decision about the colours.  The wedding’s only two months away.”

    “You’re the maid of honour,” Stella replied.  “You have a say in this too.”

    “Shouldn’t you be discussing this with Adam?” Atria said.  “He’s the one you’re marrying, after all.”

    “He’s good at analysing colours,” Stella stated, “Not picking them.”  She leaned back.  “So, how are things with you and Kaguyama?”

    Atria stretched her arms and smiled.  “The page proofs arrived yesterday.  Aiko’s illustrations look amazing.  But, I think the typesetter might be trolling us.  I could swear there are random errors that have been thrown in.  I had to send in four pages of corrections.”

    “Looking forward to flying solo?”

    Atria took a deep breath.  “Next book is the one, isn’t it?  Just my words and Kaguyama’s outline.”

    “Scared?”

    Atria smiled.  “A bit.  I never thought I’d be saving my world this way.  But, once I’m done with this series, I’ve got some ideas of my own for something new.  Aiko’s already agreed to do the illustrations for it.”

    “Stella,” Adam called from the bedroom they had converted into a home office.  “You need to see this.”

    Stella got up and walked into the office.  Adam had received an early access copy of WorldSoft Games’ Chronicles of Arcaniana II, localized into English, and had been playing it on his laptop since yesterday afternoon.

    “The note they sent with it said I really needed to check out this one area,” he said.  “Apparently, it’s your parent’s manor.  I didn’t understand the urgency until I saw this.”  He pointed at the screen.

    A drawing of one of her family’s servants was on the screen.  As she read the dialogue bubble, she had to steady herself on the desk with quivering hands.

    “Their highnesses are not available,” the servant said.  “They’ve journeyed to another world to attend their daughter’s wedding.”

    There was a knock at the front door.  Stella bolted to answer it.

Jenny Calhoun reclined in her wheelchair and basked in the California sunlight.  Behind her, Alice Matson sifted through the mail.

    “You’ve got pamphlets from three colleges for their high school diploma programs,” Alice called.  “Number three is here.  You gonna pick one soon?”

    “Do I have to?” Jenny asked.

    “You need to have a life of your own,” Alice replied.  “And I didn’t create you to be somebody who could be stopped by as insignificant a thing as a wheelchair.”

    “I was in high school,” Jenny said.

    “You really want to go back to that after all of this?”

    Jenny frowned.  “Fair point.”

    Alice checked her watch.  “Ah, Freddie will be here in a couple of minutes.  She can’t wait to meet you, after all that time she spent playing you in the show.”

    “Does she have to?” Jenny asked.  “This is going to feel really weird.”

    “Freddie McClaren had a lot of input into how your character developed over the series,” Alice said.  “In some ways, she’s almost as much your creator as I am.  Besides, I need her help to plan out the series finale.  A proper happy ending, as promised.”  She paused.  “Don’t worry – you’ll get along fine.  I know it.”

    Somebody knocked at the screen door.  The spitting image of Jenny waved, holding a plastic bag in her other hand.

    Alice let her in and introduced her.  Freddie looked at Jenny and grinned.

    “You must be the real deal,” she said.  “I have just two things to say to you: first, it was my greatest honour and privilege to be able to portray you on the screen.  And second,” she motioned at the wheelchair, “what the hell happened to you in Japan?”

    After Jenny got over her shock, she began to laugh.  Alice smiled.  “I knew you two would get along.  Besides, I think you should be sitting in on this discussion.  This is your happy ending we’re here to talk about.”

    Freddie nodded.  “Indeed.  By, the way, Alice, what’s with the old comic book you wanted me to pick up for you?  This thing’s gotta be seventy or eighty years old – I don’t want to think about how much you must have paid for it.”

    Alice took the bag and pulled out the comic book.  On its worn cover a superhero in silver tights and a black cape flew towards the reader, a smile on his face.

    “I just wanted to see a dear friend happy again,” Alice said, a quiver in her voice.

Junichi Kaguyama sat at his writing desk and flipped through the page proofs of the final book of his career.  Atria’s writing style was sprinkled throughout, so similar and yet different from his own.

    He smiled.  He knew that he would never be able to write another book again – he had forgotten too much of the craft.  But, his story would be finished anyway by somebody who would care about it more than anyone else ever could.

    For the first time since his diagnosis, he felt okay with what would happen next.

    There was still one piece of business that needed to be taken care of.  It was a gamble – Kaguyama didn’t know if she would accept or not, and it required her consent.  But he didn’t think she’d refuse.  He’d surprise her with it the next time he saw her, either here at his home or at the apartment that she shared with Stella and Adam.

    With a flourish of his pen, Kaguyama signed the adoption paperwork that would officially make Atria Silversword his daughter.

Mark Gable stared at the screen of his computer with annoyance.  His old editor at Superhero Comics was pestering him over email yet again.  With a sigh, Mark opened the email to take a look at what the man had to say this time.

    “Look, I know you’re going through some kind of late mid-life crisis and want to stretch your wings, but I’ve got a run of The Human Spider that needs a lead writer, and none of these new kids knows how to pace a story for shit.  I can give you a 5% raise if you come back for Monday, OK?”

    Mark rolled his eyes, and then hit reply.

    “I told you that I quit,” he typed.  “Go find somebody else’s story pitches to tear up.”  Then he hit send, and closed the email program.

    It was a risk, he knew, but it was worth it.  He had reached out to Jake Edwards, an old college friend of his who had ended up as a managing editor at Worldwide Books, shortly after getting back from Japan.  The conversation that followed was as much Mark calling in a favour as it was a story pitch.

    “Wow, Mark, that’s really out of your wheelhouse,” Jake said.  “You sure you want to do this?”

    “Absolutely,” Mark said.  “Time to get out of this rut I’ve been stuck in for most of my career.”

    “Alright,” Jake said.  “I know what you can do when you’re treading water, so I can’t wait to see what you can do at your best.  I’ll get legal to draw up the contract.  Just email me the contact info for your agent.”

    And with that, the deal was done.  Five and a half months later, the manuscript was almost finished.  A story about the inner lives of his characters – their hardships, triumphs, and failures.  The sort of story he had held back from writing for decades because he was afraid that it wouldn’t pay the bills.  He still didn’t know if it would.  The money from the advance was going to run out in two months.  But at least it would be something he could be proud of.  There was just one last touch to add: the dedication.

    He knew exactly who it needed to be dedicated to.  He put his fingers on the keyboard.

    “To Captain Matthew Markham,” he typed.

An hour after my parents had left the apartment for their hotel, my mind was still racing.  In a single moment, I had regained everything I thought I’d lost those five years ago when I fell through the world into a cold, wet alleyway.

    I never had imagined my parents being as emotional as they were.  Then again, my tears had flowed freely as well, particularly when my father gave his blessing to our marriage and filled out my guest list.  All of my siblings will be attending, as well as my comrades in the Hero of Prophecy’s party.  And all of this was because of WorldSoft Games.  The spell Ichiro Takahashi built into all of their character descriptions allows them to come and go between worlds as they please, and they all know where I am and what happened to me.

    But while they can travel between worlds, I can’t.  The spell requires magic I’d lost long ago.  But that no longer matters – my family and comrades can come to me even if I can’t come to them.  My father told me how to create the summoning circle that would direct them to wherever I was.

    I glanced into our bedroom.  Adam was sleeping on his side with a light snore.  Atria was off enjoying a girl’s night with Mitsubi.  I smiled as I thought of everything that had happened since we got to Japan, and everybody we had met.  Of Atria, who wanted to save her world and became my best friend, and Captain Infinite, who just wanted somebody to talk to.  Of Daiki Yamato, who wanted to go home, and Jenny Calhoun, who wanted to know why her creator had made her suffer.  Of Jack Death, who didn’t know what compassion was, and The Destroyer, who died without ever knowing his own name but who learned in the end that his real creator had cared after all.

    They all deserved to be remembered.  But for that to happen, somebody had to tell their story, just like one of their creators would do.

    The decision was easy.  Atria had kept in touch with the others, so I could get their parts of the story easily enough.  I stepped into the home office and sat down.  I opened my laptop and turned on the word processor.  And then I began to type.

    Adam Jacobs has a secret: he’s going to marry a character from a video game.