He's in a dreamless sleep right now, and I'm running through the corridors of his mind.

I spoke to him in his dream last night, and he's not happy. Not happy at all. He's got plans for Luka, the carefully sculpted protagonist, after all. Son of Meros, the hero of the first series. I can't stop the tears splashing from my eyes as I run, trying to forget about dad.

"Hey kid, this is pointless, y'know. You're the main character, the showdown is waiting. Stop keeping us all out of a job," I heard a voice whisper. I meet the accusing eyes of Dan, who is lurking with me in the parietal lobe.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice trembling.

Dan's face ripples with scars, his eyes are hard and flat, pitiless. My best friend in the series, my worst enemy when the creator is asleep. Because the main character's friend almost always dies before him.

"Dragging your ass back to headquarters, of course," he grunts, grabbing my arm.

"I know what you're trying to do. Think you can sneak out of the ear canal, eh? Float on to be a better idea, get a better life? So unoriginal. You're not the first of your family to try this shit, boy. Why do you think the creator dreamt up an assassin?"

I sag in his arms as the implications of his words strike home. "Dad?"

"He knew what was coming. I had to tie him up every time the creator dozed off, near the end. Didn't help him in the end, though."

Dan drags me all the way home, struggling in his grip and getting nowhere. I had been imagined as lean and handsome, not muscled and born with a taste for blood.

When we get back, the creator's new dream overwhelms us both. Both of us flinch as a vision of Dan and I floats into view. We're being stabbed in the snow, though both of us are clearly dead.

Mmm, yes, kill both protagonists, I heard a fragment of a sleepy thought. Never done before...so many sales...

Dan abruptly lets me go, drawings his daggers. He turns to me, and for once, he looks as desperate for companionship as the books always describe him.

"Well, that changes thing. I'm not dying for this little punk's dream of literary fame. Let's get out of here. I know a shortcut to the ear canal."