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Chapter Text

The Narrator

Well isn't this fun. Folding four dimensions into three and then walking around (Which he just had to re-learn). Admittedly, he had put off the search for far too long. Almost forty-eight resets now, but then again, The Narrator detested it. Locking Stanley in a room had been a new thing he worried about, along with the body.

Oh the body. He had tried and tried and tried to change the code. Possibly just remove the organs so he could just walk and then go back to observing everything from everywhere as a normal omnipresent voice, maybe actually have functioning eyes and not need the glasses. But no! The code is insane, so he just suffered. Maybe this is his punishment for all the stuff he puts stanley through... But even so, he hated the body. It would have been fine if it was just the eyes, but it was also the shape of it. By human terms, they're "Self Conscious." Though in his defence, the only reference for humans he has is a few magazines from who knows where, and Stanley. This body matched neither.

They sighed and went back to searching for what was causing the doors to lag and the buttons malfunction on occasion. They checked in a new room and saw a mug. Maybe. It was glitching and twisting and turning, contorting, stretching, combusting, exploding- You get the point. The Narrator walked in and snapped. The mug vanished. Instantly, you could have felt the walls ease and the doors snap back to shape.

"I'm blaming this on Stanley for playing the confusion ending seven times in a row..." He muttered, before continuing on.

They found many more glitches, a hallway that led out of bounds, another bathroom, some stanurines with defects, his own journal. He pocketed the journal, wondering how it got there. They kept moving through the halls and doors and rooms, then more doors, another hall, door, corridor, void, room, door, door, door-

"WHERE THERE ALWAYS THIS MANY BLOODY DOORS!?" He yelled to no one and nothing (The answer is yes).

He saw the bucket where it shouldn't have been, and a crap ton of Figleys that spoke. They locked the door to that room.

Door after door after corridor after hallway. Eventually they gave up and decided to retire the three dimensions for a bit.

He sighed in relief as he returned to the normal four dimensions, observing everything at once. It was nice, albeit a bit lonesome. He grumbled a bit, before resetting the game.

Stanley

Stanley walked through the deserted halls. There had been no Narrator today. Not uncommon, but strange none-the-less.

[Narrator?] They signed. No voice.

[Narrator? Where are you? I woke up in a closet.] They signed again. Still, no answer. 

Stanley kept walking, and walking, until they found a room left over from the confusion ending, which they had repeated purely because The Parable made The Narrator lose his notes every time, and they found it amusing for him to not be in control for once. Stanley could have sworn they saw a- No, it's probably another one of the preperations for The Narrators endings. The wall wasn't even textured yet. Probably a stray "Wife." Or "Husband..." The Narrator was getting more experimental with his endings.

They were about to explore more, when suddenly-

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"This is the story about a man named Stanley."

Back to normal. They would never admit to be even a bit glad to hear that voice.

They stepped out of the office. No one there, blah blah meeting- Stanley then noticed The Adventure Line out of the corner of their eye.

"To get to the meeting room, Stanley took the door on the left, and ignored the new one, because it was only a glitch." The Narrator strained. However, Stanley was a little shit disturber, and followed The Adventure Line.

"No, Stanley, do not-"

They kept running, knowing something new was down there. The Adventure Line twisted and turned, round and round, through a vent, and out of bounds for a minute. They eventually arrived... at two doors. One blue, one red. Oh no, not this ending. 

"What? You haven't found this spot yet! Adventure Line, what on my yellow Parable- Oh, nevermind. Let's do it anyways.

One thing the Narrator didn't know, Stanley remembered each and every reset. Not The Narrator. He had to experience the pain fresh, every time. New pain, new pain, new betrayal, even if Stanley had already done that ending. The Narrator remembered every ridiculous ending. The only resets The Narrator didn't remember, were the ones that happened because Stanley died (Minus the countdown ending because he didnt actually die in that one, just flash of light and then reset), and the ones that happened because someone else reset the game. 

"Stanley? Stanley! Oh, good, stop zoning out, now, for once you do follow the adventure line. Red door please." The Narrator said, obviously excited. Oh the joy Stanley felt to hear that excited voice, so he went through the red door.

The Adventure line spun into the gorgeous room, and down the stairs. Stanley didn't follow. 

"Here! Yes! Oh, it's beautiful, isn't it?" He spoke. Stanley could hear the excitement. A new ending, at least for The Narrator.

"If we just stay here, right in this moment, with this place... Stanley, I think I feel... happy."

Stanley's heart broke.

"I actually feel happy..."

So they stood there. For hours Stanley stood with The Narrator. It transformed again and again, it was gorgeous. They stood and sat and lay. Untill he knew he couldn't stay forever, and got up, going down the stairs.

"No, wait... where are you going?"

Stanley kept walking, the adventure line suspiciously neat and orderly.

The stairs appeared, but... Different. Taller. Much... Much, taller. One jump and he was gone. 

"Oh, no! Stay away from those stairs! If you hurt yourself, if you die, the game will reset! We'll lose all of this!" The Narrator pleaded. "I know these stairs, I scrapped them, they werent this tall!" 

And Stanley started his ascent. It started with the lines he heard last time, then new ones, more desperate than ever.

"Stanley please! Please go back! I won't make you follow the story, you can go wherever, do whatever! I won't tell you to get out of the broom closet, I wont ever complain about the bucket, just please!"

The Narrator

This was wrong. No. Stanley couldn't die on him. He would go insane. He would go mad. He didn't want a reset, they wanted to stay here with Stanley.

"Stanley please! I beg of you, please!" They were fluctuating between forms, enough to feel hot tears burn his skin.

"Don't do this, I don't want to reset Stanley, I'm scared." He sobbed.

They were at the edge, Stanley was at the edge.

No.

No.

No.

He kept sobbing pleas, stopping when he saw Stanley do a gentle sign.

[I'm Sorry]

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Chapter Text

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The Narrator

What.

The.

Fuck.

The Narrator woke up after the reset, quickly shutting off The Parable’s time system, and hopefully freezing everything.

“Stanley…” They muttered, quickly checking to see if they were alive. They were, body sitting at their desk, frozen temporarily. They were alive.

The Narrator would have sighed if his four dimensional form had lungs. Or a mouth. He was about to load himself into the space room of The Zending. They decided that was a horrible idea at the time, and promptly loaded themself into the lounge room. 

They sat down, steadying their own breathing (Mostly) and looking up. The Adventure line.

“Oh you sick little-!” He hopped up. “You lead Stanley to their death! DEATH I SAY! Why!? I thought you liked my stories! Are you mad about a glitch I fixed!?” The Narrator yelled from the uncomfortably human body, grey hair how dishevelled, vest, button up, and tie wrinkled. Even their glasses were gone, which made it difficult to see, but The Adventure Line was bright yellow. 

It looped around until it came to a stop in front of him.

.

.

.

“I hate the fact I can tell you’re speaking, but not decipherable words other than tone… So stop badmouthing me and let me get back to the story!” The Narrator yelled, snapping back to four dimensions. 

Stanley

“This is the story of a Stan named manly- wait, no, a man named Stanley.”

Stanley woke up dizzy. They groaned, cracking their back. The Zending always left his joints weird for a reset or two… They didn’t catch The Narrator’s mistake.

Into the hall they went, kicking while hopping until their knee finally popped and he could walk comfortably again. 

“All of his co-workers were missing, leaving Stanley all- uh, all alone…” The Narrator said. That, Stanley did catch. 

[Narrator?] They signed.

“Oh? Uh, yes yes, what is it Stanley?” He muttered.

[Are you okay?] Stanley signed.

Silence…

“Oh? OH! Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just- uh, scripts were misplaced. Scrambled me up a bit!” He laughed.

[Okay then…] They signed, eyeing the camera.

Something was up, he felt it. For The Narrator's sake, they ignored the extra door and the glitches. Somewhere deep in his code he must remember that ending. So, Stanley got an idea. Was it to soothe their mind? The Narrators? Who knows, but it was a plan that backfired slightly…

The Narrator

Something was wrong with Stanley. They were following instructions. Perfectly. To a T. No detours, no closets, no bucket, no extra endings. They had played The Freedom Ending, NINE TIMES! Something was wrong with his protagonist. Stanley was chaos, a shit disturber even! But now they had been closing the right door and going through the left! Something was afoot…

“Stanley, I must ask, do you want a break from endings?” He asked.

Stanley looked at the ceiling like the Narrator had spawned in a three headed fish with human legs.

“I, uh… Need time to revise notes. As I previously mentioned, they got mixed up…”

Then, a voice appeared behind The Narrator (Or at least the fourth dimensional version of behind…) “Yeesh dude, you’re bad at this.”

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