The End Is A Lie

“Stanley looked at the stars. They resembled glowing sparks, shining and swirling above his head. It was an unbearably beautiful sight! Stanley gazed at the starry sky and felt immensely happy. He decided to stay here forever and never le— what, did I miss something?” The soothing tones in the Narrator's voice quickly vanished. "Why did the room disappear? Stanley, could you explain to me what just happened? Stanley? Did you just- disappear? Why? I didn't include such a moment in my Story! Could it be that you managed to go beyond the map? No no no, that's impossible! Stanley, wherever you are, please stop and come back! I can't continue my Story without you! Stanley, can you hear me? Come on, respond! Say something, Stanley! Oh no, oh good lord... what am I supposed to do now?..." Stanley couldn't hear the Narrator. He was no longer in that corridor with multiple doors. The room with the stars was also gone. It had been removed or relocated to another location due to the contradiction that arose in the game because of the Line™, which™ had become even more unpredictable. It™ appeared suddenly and disappeared just as unexpectedly, cracking a rift in the ceiling. Where did Stanley disappear to? Even the Narrator didn't know, currently turning off the microphone and frantically rummaging through papers in search of a large envelope with a red label that read ‘In case of emergency’. He panicked, trying to salvage the remnants of his story by any means possible. The easiest way would be to simply restart the Game, but the Narrator hesitated to press the button labeled ‘RESTART’. Perhaps he didn't want to lose the room with the stars for good? Or maybe he simply couldn't bring himself to do it? Certainly, the Narrator had the right to change the Game, adjust it as he pleased, restart it as necessary, even add new doors and rooms—but nothing more. He thought he could control the Game without realizing that it controlled him. Unlike Stanley, the Narrator didn't know that he was just one of the prisoners in the Game. Sometimes he might have a glimpse of this realization, but he promptly forgot. Fortunately for the Narrator, the Game simply erased any excess information from his mind, whether he wanted it or not. That's how it had been and would always be, with each restart, a story within a story. Meanwhile, Stanley continued walking down the long corridor. It had only empty white walls and a blue tiled floor. There were no turns, buttons, or any doors. It simply led in one direction. Straight ahead. Forward. Without turning. Without stopping. The long corridor seemed endless. Perhaps it was indeed trapped in a loop, just like the entire Game? However, unlike the Game's locations, this corridor didn't seem to change. Its walls remained just as empty, and the square lamps were just as dim as they had been a minute or maybe even a day ago. Stanley found it dreadfully boring to walk in this corridor. Yet, he continued moving forward. Someday I'll reach the end, he thought, surveying the bare walls. There must be something there, right? A door or a button, anything at all! The corridor can't go on forever! Or can it? Most likely, the corridor was indeed infinite. After a while, Stanley stopped and leaned against the wall. He grew tired of this monotonous journey. He was terribly bored standing here. But what else could he do if not move forward? Stanley didn't know. No one told him what to do, provided a choice of which door to enter, persuaded him to follow the Story, made snarky remarks about the Lounge, or... For the first time, no one tried to control him. Stanley was completely free and could do whatever came to his mind. Did it make him happier? Stanley sighed heavily. No. He was utterly alone in this desolate corridor. Even his Narrator had stopped talking to him. Stanley felt overwhelmed and profoundly unhappy. The worst part was that he couldn't go back. The moment Stanley entered this corridor, the door automatically closed behind him. It couldn't be reopened. Unless... the Narrator could open the door. But he wasn't here. Stanley could try calling out to him, but he doubted the Narrator would hear his voice. They were separated by a great distance. Had he gone beyond the bounds of the Story? How could that be? And what should he do now? Continue forward? Or wait for the Narrator to restart the game? Stanley sat down on the floor and hugged his knees. Several minutes passed. The corridor was filled with silence. Nothing was happening at all. Stanley kept waiting. Something had to happen eventually. Not immediately, of course. He had to keep waiting. Stanley didn't know how much time had passed. Unfortunately, he didn't have a wristwatch nor a phone to check the time. Nothing would happen. No one would come to help him. No one would tell him what to do. Most likely, he would die here, all alone. Stanley closed his eyes. He dozed off and completely missed the sound of footsteps somewhere deep in the corridor.