The cambion, wearing the appearance of a teenage feline beastkin walked into a bar... he thought about how this could be the beginnings of an awful joke, then was suddenly distracted by the strange magical signature he detected from the corner of the room. The aura he sensed was definitely spatial magic, but of a rank stronger than anything he had perceived since gaining the eyes over life and death skill, which had basically evolved to allow him to perceive magic. He thought he saw a familiar face behind that aura, illuminated by the blue glow of a magical device.

The pudgy man sat alone at a table, away from the hustle and bustle of the other patrons of the bar. He wore wrinkled blue boxer shorts and sandals. A collared business shirt with pens in his left breast pocket. He sat in front of a folding metal tablet of sorts with a glowing screen, while his fingers clackety-clacked on its keyboard.

The cambion's fluffy tail wagged in apprehension as he crossed the tavern and approached the man, feeling compelled to introduce himself. The cambion's past was taken from him when he was ripped from his previous world and thrust into this one, and yet this man here had answers. The cambion didn't know how he knew this, it was simply an impression in his mind that brooked no doubt.

"Excuse me," said the cambion.

When the pudgy man looked up and took his hands off the keyboard, time suddenly stopped...

He resumed writing, and time continued. The man did not stop typing after that, even as he spoke.

"Hey, what's up buddy? How're you doing? Are you liking your new life here in Erda?" the man asked, his accent neutral and cheerful. Nothing like anyone the cambion had heard since being reborn only a few months ago into this world.

"Who are you?" the cambion asked, feeling now that this man somehow knew him better than any one person should have the right to know another.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" the man replied, sipping on a bottle of strange fizzy black liquid in a transparent container that seemed too flexible to be glass, but aside from emanating spatial magic as if did not belong in this world, was not itself magical. On its side it read, in flowing cursive script, Coca-Cola.

Perhaps it was the nectar of the gods, the cambion thought. Surely, that was the only thing the creature before him could be, a kind of divine being. His intent and aura were stronger than anything the cambion has ever sensed, but it was more than just overwhelming.

If this man spoke, then whatever he said would become reality. If he willed it, nations would bow before him. By his desire, worlds would be done and undone. What a terrifying power!

"Are you..." the cambion started to ask the question, but the man interrupted him, never taking his eyes off the screen.

"Please don't ask me that. It's a little creepy if you ask me. I don't want you to lose sleep over this, so by tomorrow, I want you to forget you ever met me, okay? I just thought it would be cool if you and I got the chance to have a little chat. You're going to have a lot of girls fawning over you soon, don't let yourself get too attached to any one girl, if you can help it. You're young and still have a long life ahead of you. Before you commit to a long term relationship, just make sure they're cool with the idea that you're basically an incubus half-breed who may or may not have the capacity to keep it in his pants."

"Wait, what?" the cambion asked, his jaw dropping. "Are you saying that I'm a sex demon?"

"Not exactly, kid," the man said, scratching the five-o-clock shadow on his chin. "The thing is, I haven't decided yet whether you're going to take that path or not. You see, originally when I wrote you down, I thought you were going to build a harem and travel with sexy variously chested girls as you fought monsters and dealt with the political game of thrones situation in this country. The thing is, you're becoming your own person and making your own decisions."

"Of course I am!" the cambion shouted indignantly. He felt angrier than he knew why. "Why shouldn't I? And what am I supposed to understand when you say you haven't decided if I take one path or another? I'm my own person, damn it. Not you, not anyone gets to decide the path I take but me!"

"Exactly," said the man. "This is precisely what I like about you, kid. You're full of surprises. I almost wish that I could take you with me when I go, just so we can go grab a beer and a pizza, then shoot the shit. Talk about life. Women. The nature of the universe and how we're all specs of stardust trying to make our own way... I think we'd have some fun times."

The creature in front of the cambion finished his drink and squinted at his screen.

"Jeez, look at the time," he said sadly. "I've got to go and get back to... uh, writing. I'll see you later kid. Even if you won't get to see me, just know that I ... uh, care really deeply about you. For what it's worth, you're kind of saving my life right now. So thanks."

With one hand still typing, the man stretched out the other. They shook hands. Then the divine creature looked up for a moment and time stopped again as the cambion's blue, cobalt eyes met the man's incomprehensible brown eyes. Then it resumed again and the man was typing once more.

"Well, that was tingly," the man said, smiling. "I know you're going to forget this later, but I'm going to leave you with a present you can take with you. It won't be anything fancy you can use in combat. Think of it like your Lucky feat. Just one of those things that may or may not tip things in your favor some day. It's not plot armor. I think everyone would find that particular device annoying and I won't cheapen your existence by denying you the consequences of your own mistakes, good or bad. No, like Lucky, this is something that will suggest an outcome, more than prescribe one."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you suggesting any outcome in my life," the cambion said defiantly. The implications of this creature's words were heavy. He didn't like the idea of being told what to do and how to live, let alone the idea of having someone influencing him beyond his knowledge. "Whatever it is you want to give me, I don't want it."

The cambion turned as if to go, taking several strides toward the door before changing his mind and turning around. He suddenly steeled himself and unsheathed his claws. He wasn't sure what it would accomplish, and he had half a mind to run, but he thought raking his claws over that smug face glued to the screen might be satisfying. Potentially cathartic.

"Hold your horses! Geez!" the man said. "The gift isn't going to do anything to you. It won't influence your... you know what? Never mind. Even if you don't understand, the people that matter will. Not that you don't matter... You matter, just... Ugh, never mind. You're just going to have to deal with the fact I'm going to do it anyway. And you're just going to forget, so there. See you later, kid."

The cambion felt the spatial magic holding the being here in this realm begin to dissolve.

"Not yet!" the cambion shouted, blink teleporting the several meters of distance between them in an instant. He swiped his claws at the smug man's face, reveling in the wide-eyed look of surprise as claws connected with flesh. The four nasty gashes that crossed his face instantly disappeared along with their owner, who still looked surprise at having been attacked.

Only the voice of the being remained, an echo from a place far away.

"Way to go, Felix. You always manage to surprise me."

The cambion spent the rest of the day listlessly pacing the city, reflecting on the significance of the update Status gave him shortly after the man had vanished.

[ Congratulations! You have earned an Easter Egg. Readers of your fiction might enjoy reading the shenanigans between you and your maker. Easter Egg is a non-existent Outworlder ability and potential marketing tool to get people to click on this link to read more. This Easter Egg and all memories of this instance will vanish the moment you go to sleep, but may return upon the creation of a new Easter Egg. We hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you, and have a nice day. ]

Even if he couldn't stay awake forever, the cambion refused to go to sleep, purely out of spite. He managed to go five full days without rest before exhaustion finally took him. He didn't spend time with his fictional friends, nor did he bother to explore his fictional world. He simply paced the proverbial blank page of his world shouting at the heavens until he finally collapsed, a few last words of tired yet willful defiance on his lips.

"I'll show you fiction, you lousy piece of... No one gets to tell me... who I am... or what I'm going to... be...