He refused to meet anybody's eyes, but nodded obediently. 

"I met the person playing Cinderella, and he told me to remain in the house if I wanted to be safe. I looked around his room after he left, and discovered a diary dated for several years."

"What was in it?"

"The... the handwriting was erm, messy? It was kind of hard to read, but it was mainly scribbles of complaints about the abuse Cinderella suffered at home, the betrayal she felt for her father. It was, how do I explain, as if all the negative thoughts she hid were compressed into that journal?"

His memory was excellent, and without being told, he begun to recite certain passages. "June 12 19XX, I want to control them. I want to make it stop. I don't want to hurt them. I just want it to stop. Stop. Please, please, please. Will they stop if they can't disobey me anymore?"

"June 24 19XX, mother told me to always treat people with kindness. I have lived my entire, entire life by that rule. I did. I really did! I am! What do I do about the bleeding in my heart? Make it go away, pleasepleaseplease!"

"July 19 19XX, something weird is happening. Stepmother, and my siblings are behaving oddly, and I don't know why. I am disturbed. Is something watching me?'

"August 22 19XX, there was a ball. A grand event, I danced with the prince and it was wonderful. I lost myself in the delusion, and he fell for the beautiful me. It doesn't feel right."

"August 30 19XX, my stepsisters cut off their heels and it made a terrible mess. The prince is looking for the owner of the glass slippers—me. They can't fit it... is it horrible for me to be delighted at their misery? After all, I didn't cause it. I have not forsaken my mother's words."

Julian cleared his throat nervously. "The rest of the text couldn't be read at all. It was like she rewrote diaries on top of existing words, so it became a... a really jumbled mess."

Lucas leaned against one of the dirt-covered walls, frowning. This should've been a simple Story, compared to the others. A low-grade one that should take moments to overcome, in comparison to all the other horrors that he'd face in the future. 

Cinderella's desire. What was it?

He hadn't expected the other clearance method to relate to Cinderella's inner mentality. However, for this stupid world that made little sense to begin with, nothing could be 'expected'.

There was also a line in the second entry that Julian recited: 'is something watching me?'

And the villagers who behaved abnormally obediently, almost as if scared of something. He had a feeling that those things weren't completely related to Cinderella's desire, however.

"What is your desire, Cinderella?"

The creepy, singing voice didn't respond to him this time, though he was certain it listened quietly. He dismissed it indifferently before walking up the creaking steps to the attic, where the lonely girl had resided. 

A long walk stretched out before him, darkness looming along the passage where no sounds reached.

It would've been torture for a bright and sunny child to return to this every evening.

The first thing Lucas saw when entering was a moss-covered doll sitting on the neatly folded bed, sewn together clumsily with big blue buttons, and worn, yellow ribbons of yarn. The 'hair' was tied up into a neat bun, and wore mature, conservative clothes that resembled something a mother would wear.

Nothing else cluttered the empty room.

He glanced around, Julian wandering nervously behind while Nora carefully observed every divot and corner. Eventually, he walked up to grab the doll.

A shudder rushed through his body, and the soft head twisted a whole 360 degrees, and the sewn on lips stretched into a wide smile. 

Lucas blinked in surprise, accidentally squeezing the neck where he held it, making the top bulge out. It made quite the sorry sight, and he could've sworn that the smile faltered for a moment.

Julian paled, biting his lip. "Erm, sir, I think you killed the ghost...?"

"....." Lucas placed the doll back onto the bed, calmly apologizing in his head. "It's already dead."

"Double kill?"

"......"

Nora tilted her head, short, white strands covering part of her eye. She crouched down, a finger to her chin as she examined the 'victim' ghost. "Do you think perhaps this doll represents her mother? It resembles Cinderella, but gives off a rather mature feeling, I believe."

Lucas contemplated over her words, walking around the rest of the room. Ragged clothing folded into neat piles, a window that oversaw the tired garden, but allowed no sound to escape.

He bent down, feeling around underneath the creaking bed frame. His hands grazed something cold, and he pulled out a glass slipper, worn at the edges. There was a rolled up piece of paper stuffed inside.

'Mother,' it read, in neat, careful print. 'The prince wishes for me to be his bride! He has fallen in love with my soul, and I for his. I am thrilled! Are you happy for me? I wonder if you are watching and blessing me from high above? I miss you, dearly.'

There were other scraps of paper hidden below the bed, all printed neatly, as if scared that it couldn't be read.

A pitiful, motherless child who knew no love.

Lucas glanced around, picking up the doll and placing it by the window to see outside. The answer to Cinderella's question should be easy, he already knew that. It would only take a bit of searching to find the solution.

"Cinderella's most desperate desire was for her mother to return."

<Ding!>

The dance with the corpse, the frayed doll that sat on her bed. The pleading and useless conversations through paper, that would remain unseen. And Nora, who couldn't be injured in this Story.

It was likely that the apple seller—a title that hid not only the journal entries, but had invulnerability—was something dedicated to Cinderella's mother. An existence that couldn't be harmed under her protection, in this world of her making.

Although he did wonder why the title was an apple seller.

<...my mother, before her death, enjoyed selling apples in the village with me. A mundane memory... I wanted her to exist, if I had the power to allow it.> The voice was dull and flat, lost in a distant memory. 

However, it wasn't long before it returned to normal.

<Well, well humans. Congratulations—not! My tale is a simple one, don't think it will be so lucky in the future!>

"Shut up."

<...you will be awarded prizes for your success by the magnanimous me. I hope I don't see you again, especially you, white-eyed bully!>

The ground started to disperse, planks of wood crumbling into pieces. When he got a closer look, the dust were millions of small words, gathered to form this land.

[A conclusion has met the requirements!]

[The story of 'Cinderella' is closing...]

Julian swallowed, stumbling as the sky begun to peel away. "Isn't... isn't this too simple?"

Nora closed her eyes, long eyelashes brushing against her cheeks sorrowfully. "That's what makes it horrifying. Something this easy to solve, yet resulting in so many deaths. That is the true terror of this Story."

Lucas shoved his hands into his pockets, sitting on the floor as he waited for the rest of the environment to fade away. There was a low gust of wind that blew past his hair almost serenely, despite what the past few days had been. 

Pointless, ridiculous death.

A game with no meaning or reason.

And he was reminded of the sole reason for his participation in this farce. The person he needed to save. He needed to find Kane, who he hadn't been in contact with for near a decade now.

He had to stop that man from becoming [The Puppet of Delusion]. The one who claimed the Forsaken Throne—something that would be everybody's goal to obtain. Because there was a hierarchy, a system built into this chaos, and everybody would rush to become King.

[The story 'Cinderella' has closed!]

Because the one who claimed the throne could make a wish.

To end or save the world.

To be anything they desired.