After discussing for some time, they decided to start writing the story in two ways — with two main characters.Emilia would write the heroine's story, and Tom would continue writing the story of Brook.

When Tom tried to write, he noticed the story was paused exactly where he'd left it. Brook was still sleeping on the bed with the body of Lucas beside him.Then Emilia suddenly asked,

"Wait, Tom... where's my pen? It was with me in my dreamspace, but now it's gone!"

Tom froze for a moment, then sighed.

"I think we're both idiots," he muttered. "We forgot that only one pen is allowed in the dreamspace."

They looked at each other — silent — both thinking, who's the bigger idiot here?After a long stare, they decided to leave the argument for tomorrow and just sleep.

The next morning, Tom opened his eyes and immediately cursed under his breath.

"I'm such an idiot," he groaned. "When Mr. Ice asked if we had questions, we both confidently said no — like we knew everything! And as soon as he left, we realized how big of dumbasses we actually are."

Determined to fix things, Tom went to meet Emilia.When he arrived at her house, they both sat down and started discussing.

"How are we supposed to write a complex story?" Emilia said. "We don't even know how to contact Mr. Ice again!"

"Yeah," Tom muttered, "and we didn't even ask him how to reach him. We're hopeless."

They both stared at each other again, silently asking the same question — who's the bigger idiot?

But before the argument could restart, Tom suddenly wrote in his mind:

Send me and Emilia's consciousness a day before.

And it worked.

They both woke up — a day before.Tom immediately went to Emilia's house, forgetting one crucial thing — this was the day Emilia got her pen.

No one let him in, so he used his pen to teleport directly into her room.But the moment he appeared, he froze.

Emilia was changing her clothes.

Her eyes widened in horror.Then— SLAP!A tight slap landed across his face.

Tom quickly turned away.After Emilia finished dressing, she glared at him.

"What the hell are you doing in my room!?"

"I thought—why waste time at the café?" Tom said weakly.

If he had time-traveled alone, she probably would've thrown him in jail.Thankfully, since they both time-traveled together, the misunderstanding didn't escalate.

Now, they only needed to wait for Mr. Ice to summon them again.

After some time, Mr. Ice appeared before them.And, as always, he began yapping about fate, complex stories, threads of destiny — the usual endless lecture.

But this time, Tom had had enough.

"It's enough, Mr. Ice," he interrupted. "We already know all this! We time-traveled here—"

SLAP!

Another one.Tom rubbed his cheek, frowning.

"What's wrong with today? Is it Slap Day or something?"

Before Emilia could scold him again, Mr. Ice raised his brow.

"You time-traveled here?"

"Yes," Tom replied. "What's the problem? Our author is dead, and we would've been dead too. Since we're not connected to the thread of fate anymore, we can time travel anywhere."

Mr. Ice's expression hardened.

"It's good you traveled to a time when you still had your pens. If you had gone back before getting them, your fate would've changed — and with it, the entire world. To prevent such a catastrophic alteration, Mr. Who would've personally erased you from existence."

Tom gulped.

"Okay, I get it. I won't time travel to any point before I had the pen."

Then he raised a hand.

"But I have a question."

"Ask," Mr. Ice said.

"How can we both write a complex story together? If we enter each other's dreamspace, only one person can have the pen. So how do we write a story with two authors?"