So they aren't going to hurt Gen. Good.

Contact!

OK. You won't hurt Gen. Excellent. I'll just go talk to him.

Gen! We're good!

I walk down the halls of Gen's crystalline castle, finding each room empty.

...

I know where he is.

I tap the side of the wall, revealing a secret entrance to the Studio, where Gen does his writing.

(Gen sits at a lone desk, a stressed look on his face as he examines the amount of praise each book gets systematically, and coming to the conclusion the fanfics do better.)

Gen. Come on, we've gotta do this.

They're here for me Sour. Maybe I should just give them what they want. I mean, that is my purpose.

Gen, please, not all the readers want you dead. You gotta confront this.

(His eyes are full of fear.)

You really think they're not with the Author Slayers?

If they are, I'll see to their destruction myself. After all, their soul is cracked. One death, and poof! Gone.

OK. Thanks Sour. I love you.

I kiss Sour on the cheek.

You'll always be my queen.

And you'll always be my king.

Wait! No! I'm not leaving!

...

Sour, what did you do?

We may or may not be turning the readers against you.

Jesus Christ! What the Hell is wrong with you people!?!

You asked for this when you made us self aware.

Sour conjures me up a chair as I sit within the story. The chair is made of numerous smooth vines. She makes one go herself.

You're the worst, you know that, right?

Me? You're trying to kill me!

Nah, just give Gen control of your mind.

Not any better.

Eh, it's for Gen. Seems fine to me. Now, be quiet, he's starting.

I exit the Studio and snap my fingers, conjuring up a stage with a microphone. Sour and the True Author sit, awaiting my song. The True Author seems slightly nervous. I smirk. I begin to sing as a calm, easy tune begins to play.

Who is the kid,
With a mask and a pen?
A mask that's hiding,
A highly twisted grin?

A desire for fame,
A desire for money.
A desire to put on a facade.
You may know this kid, as the True Author.

But within his mask,
Lies two parts of himself.
One is Edgar,
A demon from a place worse than Hell.

He is my brother,
And we're just characters,
But now it's time,
For the mask to take control!

(The beat escalates, becoming more intense as Gen smiles eerily, holding his pen like a knife. He points it at the Author, almost as if to challenge him.)

Writing fanfiction to bring smiles to your faces.
Trying to escape from his inner demons.
With each word of praise,
My power grew.

Now it's time,
For the true king to rule!

Because I'm Gen3king!
A character!
But soon I shall,
Be so much more!

I've waited seven years,
In your time!
I'll kill the Author,
And his novel shall die!

Oh, this isn't good.

Just watch. It gets better.

Oh God I hate you both.

That's fair.

(The beat takes a darker, ominous turn)

I can see you glaring.
I can feel your rage.
Don't think I'll abandon,
The world that he made.

The novel may fade for a bit,
But it will return.
When that day comes,
I will have had time to learn.

Kill any,
That the readers wish.
Do whatever it is,
That you guys request.

I can sense it in him.
The Author's endless dread.
Before he retakes the control,
I've got one last thing to say.

Just one final thing.

One itty bitty thing.

I'm telling you,
You want him to lose.
Writing for the fandom,
It is what I do.

I'll give you,
Anything you wish.
Just help me defeat him,
And don't hurt me again.

OK Gen. That's enough.

Well, let's see what they do, shall we?

Sorry. He gets around... well, I guess you're... gonna try to break my sanity to give him control... OK. Let's get to the point. Pick a side. I'm ready for whatever comes next.

Choice: Join Gen.

Choice: Attack Gen.

Choice: Leave and think.