"The Book of Wonders" - Side Quest Chapter 1

After posting this on my IG, my comments section blew up. Over 90k likes, and comments of adoration and flirting came in trove.

And of course, with every social media fandom, comes the other side of the coin—the haterade.

I checked my notifications online and read some of the comments posted.

One comment from stihlbreaker reads:

I frowned, “Whaaat?” I chuckled. Is this dude infatuated by me or something? And they wanna banish their intrusive mindset with this comment?

He checked out his profile. Jesus first. He worships the Light of the World? But he has no problem disobeying His #1 rule on loving thy neighbors?

“Okay dude,” I proceeded to type my response.

This next comment had me question my sanity… over this GIF of a Marine man doing a salute with one hand… but his other hand was doing something entirely inappropriate.

I exploded with laughter. “Okay. Now here’s a guy stihlbreaker should be comfortable connecting with.”

I sent him a response.

“Bro, get a room 🤣”

I hit Send. But then I got to thinking. As cocky Casey Tresor, I’d proceed to roasting my haters. But as Galenflyn Reglay-Charming, newly reborn prince with highly potent powerful cosmic magic—I should probably call myself Hero of Light Casey-Galenflyn at some point—I proceeded to do something crazy than just roasting them.

I sent a friend request to stihlbreaker. It didn’t take him more than 5 minutes to accept my request. And he wasn’t done roasting me.

I ignored his incoming messages because I needed to put those two guys in a private room together.

“@sal_tron. @stihlbreaker. Got a hotel room key for ya. Enjoy each other’s company. And try not to kill each other.”

I hit Enter; and now somewhere within this multiverse, those two are really getting to know each other. And I meant really KNOW each other. 🤣

xxx

The corridor smelled faintly of aftershave and something floral — a ridiculous combo that announced @sal_tron before he rounded the corner. He was all navy jacket and earnest grin, a shiny name tag catching the pink love room light: @sal_tron. He’d practiced his opening line twice, tucked a paper‑folded bouquet into his pocket, and was practically marching toward destiny.

@stihlbreaker rounded the opposite corner at exactly the wrong moment and froze. For a beat, the two stared at each other: one face flushed with boldness, the other with comic alarm. @sal_tron tipped his marine hat and delivered a ridiculous compliment that sounded like it came from a rom‑com written by a very sleepy playwright. He took a step forward, then another, eyes warm and goofy.

“Whoa—hey, um—” @stihlbreaker backed up, trying to sidestep past a stack of delivery boxes. He muttered something about being late and had the unmistakable air of someone who wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I don’t roll that way dude! Get the hell away from me!”

He turned to leave but @sal_tron wasn’t deterred; he declared, in a stage‑whisper that could be heard across galaxies, “I was just—thinking you looked like sunshine in a trench coat,” and struck a flourish.

That was the final straw. @stihlbreaker made a dramatic beeline for an emergency exit, only to find it blocked by another version of @sal_tron. He turned, flailed, and ended up trapped on a sliver of carpet between two rolling carts. @sal_tron paused, genuinely concerned and still hopelessly charming, while @stihlbreaker threw up his hands, “No. NO! YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU HO— YOU HO—!” he tried to say the word but couldn’t.

“I thought you were a freak for the Lord of Light.” @sal_tron said before a grin formed over his face, “Turns out you’ve been living a lie and are all about entertaining me as the Devil’s Spawn.”

He let out a scream “NOOOOOO!” that echoed across the galaxy like a punchline; trapped in a pocket dimension.

xxx

I banished the thought of those two trolls out of my mind and turned my attention back to the phone.

Next troll to deal with was a guy named Luke. @lukebradham.

And what is said was so unhinged, anyone who read this do not deserve it. Even my worst enemy.

I sat on this, pondering. Wondering, what possessed this spineless mother’s basement-dwelling loser, hiding behind a screenname, to spend the past five minutes going into my profile, click on my DM, and carefully type these words kill urself.

Well, not carefully actually, because he gallantly misspell the word yourself. What is he in first grade? Even first graders learn how to spell.

I sat up from my bed this time. Now I was determined to mop the floor with this Chernabog bitch. Excuse my French.

My fingers flew over my phone. Tap tap tap. Send.

“Is that all you can say to me? Come say that to my face, I dare you.”

Five seconds later and a new notification popped up.

I swiped open the message: “kys glendorloser, nobody wants your content.”

A boiling heat rose in my chest.

It’s GlendorBoy, you uneducated clown!

Usually I’m all about hitting back with a perfectly engineered roast, maybe making them the subject of a “Roast dat Boy” segment. But telling me to—to do that? Twice? That crosses the line.

One thing I could not stand and tolerate is a bully. And this guy was straight-up one.

My immediate, unfiltered thought flared bright in my mind like, Man, let me drag this guy on social by posting his comment and let the public handle it.

The whole GlendorBoy Nation should descend on this pathetic excuse for a keyboard warrior and ruin his digital life.

And the one to end his actual life should be a monster of colossal cosmic proportions.

My intention—that sheer, righteous desire—felt like it physically gripped me, manifesting as raw power. I could feel a heat rise in my eyes. Couldn’t explain it but it made me squint. Burn. I blinked several times until my eyes literally started watering.

“Crap!” I jumped off my bed and rushed out of the room. I search the house for a restroom. I found one—Powder Room.

Powder Room?

Didn’t matter! I flew inside, close the door and looked at the mirror and—

My eyes were glowing.

“The hell…”

I noticed the space around my fingers and eyes started humming as both my hands and eyes glowed with a strange golden white.

Then the entire room started to violently vibrate and shake. I stepped back and looked around, bracing myself for the ceiling to drop on me as the sink, the toilet, the trinkets and potpourri around the room trembled to the earthquake around me.

One minute I was standing in the so called Powder Room, the next, the world dissolved into a blinding white light. I felt a dizzying pressure in my ears as if I’d jumped dimensions, which, based on everything Sofie and that weird guy Ricken had told me, was suddenly my new normal...

I slammed down onto a cold, hard plane of existence. I blinked rapidly, the light fading to reveal a dark, desolate, violet landscape with zero light beyond my field of view that stretched out like an empty arena. Standing a few feet away, equally bewildered, was a skinny dude clutching a cheap smartphone, and sporting an equally cheap pornstache—my hater.

“The hell is this? Where are we?” he stammered, his eyes darting around. He then turned to me, “Hey I know you! You the guy I…” he hesitated.

“You the guy who sent me that message.” I said, “Yes. Say it bro.”

“I have nothing to say to you bro.” He clapped back, “Where did my room go? One minute I was in my room and then—”

He turned back to me again, “Did you do this?”

I scoffed, “Hey! Just because we both ended up in—in a dreamscape—what makes you think that I had something to do with this?”

“Oh so you think this is a dream too?”

I shrugged, tugging nervously on the hem of my shirt.

Before we knew it, the ground shuddered violently, exactly like when my father’s expensive mansion artifacts crashed to the floor during one of my parties. A deafening roar filled the dimension, growing louder by the second.

“What is that?” the hater squeaked.

I looked toward the horizon, and my jaw dropped. Just ahead of me and the hater, was a crowd.

A massive crowd, and each and everyone of them wore no armor or wielding swords; but an assortment of clothes and accessories, with my face on it! Some had my logo GlendorBoy; some had my slogan “Stay Perky and Stay Lovin’,” with an ❤️ emoji” Their choice of weapons—they carried phones, keyboards, and glowing signs featuring my gamer tag.

My GlendorBoy Nation.

At first I thought they were coming for me to take a chunk of my hair, or all of it… until I remembered my words, my thoughts from earlier back in my room

The whole GlendorBoy Nation should descend on this pathetic excuse for a keyboard warrior and ruin his digital life.

And they were coming at the hater to do just that.

My magic did this.

I felt the cold metallic taste of fear, quickly overridden by the adrenaline rush of a high-stakes scenario.

“Dude,” I spoke to the hater, “just FYI, you come for me, you come for the GlendorBoyNation. And you do NOT want to mess with the Nation.”

Before he could process the words, the wall of figures emerged from the red dust, thousands of them, moving with the terrifying, collective speed of a full-charge attack. I could hear their war cry, which also included the sounds of thousands of concurrent SuperChats flooding a feed—a cacophony of KACHINGs and frantic, angry typing, and posts and messages flying across the field like predatory birds.

The ground vibrated with the impact of their digital rampage, and closing in on the hater who STILL hasn’t found his legs to run yet.

“They’re pissed, man,” I muttered, staring at the sheer force of the mob. “You told me to kys. Now you’re facing the consequences of messing with a dedicated fanbase.”

The hater screamed, turning to run back across the barren plain, scrambling like a low-level enemy fleeing a Level 99 boss. But the Nation moved with the relentless, singular speed and focus of a thousand speedrunners converging on the final prize and wilderbeasts from the Lion King.

The roar intensified. They were now close enough that I could make out their faces—some were familiar avatars from the chatroom, their eyes glowing with the fierce loyalty of a dedicated community.

The crowd swallowed the hater instantly, a dark wave of digital fury washing over him. The sounds weren’t screams of pain, but the relentless clicking of keys, the furious tapping on screens, and the never-ending KACHING of virtual money being weaponized. The “stampede” of the GlendorBoy Nation continued past where the hater had stood, leaving nothing but swirling red dust and the ringing sound of their destructive collective support.

I stared for a moment, absorbing the chaos I had unleashed just because I had a thought. A wish for the public to handle him.

But another cold chill ran down my spine as another realization settled in. GlendorBoy Nation was NOT the only one I summoned.

My thoughts echoed back to me loud and clear: “The one to end his actual life should be a monster of colossal cosmic proportions.”

GlendorBoy Nation vanished as quickly as they appeared and the hater was on the floor, battered, bruised, a humiliated look on his face, and utter unresponsive.

I rushed to him, “hey man you need to get out of here now!”

And just as I feared I heard a massive guttural sound. Like an intercourse of a dragon and a snake; but blended into one colossal voice. And it filled the air.

“Hey!” I shouted, “Wake up! You need to get the hell out of here NOW!”

No response. He was still knocked out.

Then I heard the slithering draconian roar again and—damn it, I had no choice but to step back and run to hide.

The first things I spotted were the black oil splatters in the distance. Like someone had spilled gasoline on the horizon, and set the fumes on fire, except the flames burned colors I’d never seen before—starburst pinks, toxic blues, shades of orange so bright they hurt to look at. The ground pulsed under my feet, as if the entire world was a heartbeat, and we were living in the artery.

The sky split. Something massive unfurled from a rupture in the atmosphere, a rippling distortion at first, then a coiling, glistening bulk that filled the edge of the universe, curling and twining, until I realized it was a serpent. But not a snake. Not even a python. A titanoboa would be a joke by comparison.

No, this thing was a monster of cosmic proportion. Its slithering body blended with the sky, shimmering with the cosmic static of the Milky Way—each scale a miniature galaxy, glinting with millions of tiny stars. The head was the size of a garbage truck, and where its eyes was, they were empty sockets. Until they flashed like burning lights and it’s jaws opened as he let out a guttural roar.

The hater screamed. He had turn around to witness the monstrosity behind him, then coming at him at full force.

“GET OUTTA HERE!” I shouted in panic. The hater finally found his legs and obeyed. He crawled in four then jumped to his feet and ran like his life depended on it. And trust me it did.

But the monster closed in.

“Come on, come on, COME ON!”

The hater continued to run but the monster was twice as fast. Closing in at 10 feet. Then 7. Then 4.

“HURRY!”

The hater tripped and fell flat on his face. He turned around and watched the monster, charging at Mach speed—3, 2, 1

SLAM!

The monster sent the hater flying into the air, and just as he started dropping; its jaws extended to a menacing hunger for any nostrils.

CRUNCH!

I flinched and looked away. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the golden glow around my hands flared one last time. The dark violet world fractured, shattering like the Michelangelo statue at my party.

I gasped, and looked around, straightened. I was back in the Powder Room. My phone was locked in my hand, displaying the unanswered message from the hater.

I was about to delete the message and blocked the user, when my phone all of the sudden refreshed by itself.

And the hater was gone.

I hit the search for his name.

User Id not found

I tried again.

User Id not found

Tried one more time.

User Id not found

I know! Instagram usually send me private messages via my email.

I went to my email and searched for it.

Bubkiss.

I couldn’t help but think—it’s as if my GlendorBoy Nation and that Cosmic Monster ended his existence. Literally.

The hater didn’t exist anymore.

What… in… actual… hell.

I opened up my notes and typed.

*Note to self: Next time, just let the comments section handle the trash talk. Raw Wishful Thinking is way too OP for simple online beef.*

Yup. That’s what I’m gonna call that raw power of mine—Wishful Thinking. I wished to survive the dragons when they put me in danger at my 16th birthday party and I literally dodged a bullet. I thought a baby needed saving from the falling suitcases and I slowed down time to save that baby from these suitcases. And now I had wish to end a hater’s life with my GlendorBoy fanbase and an imaginary monster and they did just that.

I typed below my notes --Wishful Thinking. Dangerous.

To do: Teach myself to harness its power the safest way possible.

Time to #NerfMyPowers.

I pulled out my earphones, shaking my head. It felt like walking away from a massive, terrifying event, much like surviving that point-blank gunshot. I stood up, feeling a little woozy, but also strangely victorious. The real world was messy, but at least in the dimension of my own mind, the GlendorBoy Nation had my back.