The Edverse Arc

Chapter 1

The Master and Travers sat down for lunch at Danny's Doo Wop Diner, an American-style diner just off Wilford Brimley Rd in Walford Heights. The air was thick with the smell of greasy comfort food, the sounds of old rock ‘n’ roll playing softly from the jukebox. They had barely settled in when an impatient but large-breasted waitress approached their booth.

"Coffee?" she asked briskly.

"Please," the Master replied, holding out his cup.

The waitress poured the coffee into his cup with a practiced motion, then turned her attention to Travers.

"What about you?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Travers, however, was in a trance, his gaze fixed entirely on the waitress’ chest. He hadn’t had an oil change in a while, and his mind had gone completely blank. The sight of her had temporarily rendered him catatonic.

She poured his coffee anyway, though Travers didn’t seem to notice.

The waitress, looking back at the Master, asked, "Food?"

"Steak sandwich, please," the Master replied, his tone flat.

"How about you?" she asked Travers again.

Still drooling, Travers remained oblivious to her question.

Impatient, the Master slapped Travers on the back of the head. Travers snapped out of his stupor with a jolt, a puddle of drool now forming on the table.

The waitress raised an eyebrow. "What’s up with him? Is he special or something?"

"Yes, quite," the Master responded dryly.

The waitress rolled her eyes. "I’ll be back with a mop," she muttered before turning to leave. The Master then smacked Travers on the back of the head.

In a flash, Travers pulled out a goblin-brand switchblade, waving it defensively, though his confusion was evident. "Huh? What’s going on? Don’t touch my stuff!"

Travers shook his head and blinked again, finally catching up with the situation. "Oh..."

The Master sighed, leaning back in his seat, his patience thinning. Travers, suddenly remembering where he was, lit up with enthusiasm.

"Hey, I love this joint. I used to come here all the time before I was mayor. It’s comforting, y’know? Reminds me of pre-racial America, back in my youth..."

The waitress returned with a mop and bucket, and began cleaning up the drool from the table. Travers, noticing her return, began to stare again, his eyes glazing over.

The Master quickly began snapping his claws in front of Travers' face.

"What??" Travers jumped out of his trance.

"Tell the waitress what you’d like," the Master said sternly.

"Well, now that you mention it..." Travers began.

"TO EAT... Travers... Your order..."

"Oh, right... Um, I’ll have a sirloin steak, rare, with fries... and some chicken wings on the side..." Travers paused, then pulled out his empty wallet with a thoughtful frown. "Hmm. I still appear to be temporarily light..."

The Master raised an eyebrow.

Travers looked up at him with a sheepish grin. "Master Devlin, could you help me out?"

The Master nodded toward the waitress, who was still waiting nearby, looking amused.

"Oh, and a Coke, please," Travers added, quickly.

The waitress smirked and nodded, before turning to place the order.

The waitress brought the Master and Travers their food, placing the plates in front of them. Travers looked around, his eyes scanning the table, but to his dismay, he couldn't find any salt. He turned over his shoulder, spotting a young woman sitting in the corner, blowing bubblegum and reading a novel.

"Excuse me, Miss," Travers called out, "Would you mind if we borrowed that salt shaker?"

"Huh? Oh... sure..." she replied distractedly, barely looking up from her book.

"What are you reading?" Travers asked as he reached for the salt.

She popped her gum loudly. "It's called Enter the Edverse, Volume 7, by Edward Mulvin."

"Huh... Never heard of it. Is it any good?" Travers asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ha! No... It's bad. Like, really... really bad." She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. "This guy has to be one of the worst writers in all of Waldonia. Apparently, he lives here in Widdlington, somewhere in Waverly Hills, probably... He's a total hack fraud. Like, he blatantly just steals other characters from other fictions and incorporates them into his stories because he can't be bothered to invent his own. I have no idea how he doesn't get sued."

"Really? Well, I..." Travers began, but she cut him off.

"...And he constantly builds up these big, world-changing scenarios, only to get bored and wrap it all up in a single page. You can tell sometimes there's an unnamed ghostwriter too, but it's pretty obvious he's checked out half the time."

"And... you're still reading it?" Travers asked, perplexed.

"Oh yeah," she said with a shrug. "I've read all of them multiple times..."

"Why? It sounds like you hate them," Travers said, genuinely curious.

"I dunno..." she replied, pausing to pop her gum again. "I mean, they are objectively terrible, but... I guess they're fun. I like the characters. This one's about a sleazy, womanizing lawyer who turns out to be an alternate personality of this deranged goblin from the previous stories. He gets in trouble with the mob after he's outed as a federal informant."

"I like him already! Sounds like my kind of story," Travers grinned.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "Anyway, he teams up with this uptight, stuffy dragon man who hates him but agrees to protect him. He's pretty funny too. He's always so angry! They're just starting to become friends. I think with a competent editor, this could make a good movie."

The Master raised an eyebrow at the description of the characters, while Travers apparently hadn't made the connection.

"Well," the woman said, standing up, "if you don’t mind, I better get back to it. My lunch break will be over soon..."

"Of course. Thanks for the salt..." Travers said, offering a half-smile.

"That's rather curious...You would think this Edward Mulvin was writing about us, eh?" the master says with a somewhat sarcastically rolling his eyes.

"Us? What do you mean?" Travers quizzes. Raising an eyerbrow in confusion.

Travers digs into his steak and chips.

"Really? A sleazy, womanizing goblin lawyer and an angry dragon man who protects him...That doesnt ring any bells?"

"No...Then again I was never really the bookworm type...or much for reading at all.. Except Playpen and Goblins Illustrated, of course...

The Master shakes his head and finishes his steak sandwich

Chapter 2:

Later, after lunch, The Master and Travers are walking down Wilford Brimely Road in the direction of Waldobury. The Master is lecturing Travers on the value of a Master's education in attempts to get him to reconsider becoming his pupil, but Travers is not paying any attention. He's unusually quiet, deep in thought, when he stops suddenly, turns and charges across the street, causing a Little Akiban Cab driver to swerve his rickshaw, plough through a fire hydrant and crash into a WHSmith's front window. The Master takes stock of the carnage before turning his attention back to Travers who is scampering into the large Waldostones book store.

The Master storms in and finds Travers is talking to a Waldostones assistant.

"Do you have any of the Edverse books?? By Ed Asner?"

"Uh...We have the Edverse Saga Collection by Ed Mulvin, if that's what you mean. It's actually over here on the clearance shelf. 75% off."

Travers grabs it an starts scanning the box of volumes.

"Travers, what the hell was that? Did you see the damage you just caused??" The Master barks as he interrupts.

"Uh huh. Yeah fine. Look at this..."

Travers grabs one of the random books and starts reading the blurb at the back.

"Following the epic battle in Antarctica, Vol.5 sees the heroes of Eddington now find themselves dealing with a new threat when one of their own is accused of unspecified crimes and abducted by a sinister shadow court that threatens not only the balance of justice and liberty for those in the present, but also the fate of Edonian Empire, 600 years in the future."

"Don't you think there's something very familiar about all this?..I can't quite put my finger on it."

The Master stares at Travers. "You think, Travers?"

“Look at these names! Trenton Havers… Major Kelvin Steele… Wyndell Farquaad… It reminds me of something… I just can't think what..." Travers mutters, frowning at the book.

The Master thinks for a moment, then chuckles.

"Ed! It has to be. I never knew his last name. I think we need to have a chat with my old chum, the Editor. What he’s deliberately left out is how his teeth got smashed in Antarctica."

"I'm serious, Master Devlin. This is no time for your casual blasphemy! You’re always blaming our beloved Editor for..." Travers begins, but the Master buries his head in his hands.

Travers stops suddenly. “Wait a minute... Editor... Ed... Ed Mulvin?” His eyes widen as he finally puts the pieces together.

The Master nods enthusiastically, pleased that Travers is finally catching on.

Travers flipped through the inner sleeve of one of the books, his eyes scanning the text.

"Edward Waldo Mulvin is the acclaimed author of the popular Edverse series... A native of Waldoshire, UK, he currently resides in the town of Widdlington... Waldo??" Travers sighed in disappointment. "I was hoping for more information. Maybe even a photo!"

He let the book drop slightly in his hands, clearly frustrated by the lack of concrete details. The search for answers felt more elusive than ever, but Travers couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was hidden beneath the surface.

"We must buy this collection and do some research!" Travers exclaims, raising his clawed finger to the ceiling. "If someone is making money off our adventures and not giving us our due credit, then I say we find this asshole and you kick his ass. Then I’ll threaten to sue his ass unless he pays us royalties... Master Devlin, our money troubles are over!"

The Master widens his mouth, unimpressed, and looks off to the side. “Here, take these books and go pay for them, Major Steele. I’ll pay you back if you want.”

“Hrrmm,” the Master groans, grabbing a wheelbarrow and loading all the books into it. They exit the store as emergency services tend to the rickshaw accident across the street. A family inside the WHSmith’s store had tragically been obliterated by the crashed rickshaw. Travers walks right by the chaos, blissfully unaware.

“Travers, can’t you see what you’ve—”

Travers cuts him off, waving him along. "This used to be a calm and quiet town," he grumbles as he finally notices the commotion. “I told you we should have banned vehicles completely when we had the chance... but no.”

“What are you talking about? You banned motor vehicles when you were emperor.”

"Evidently, I should have banned all vehicles... It only takes 37 minutes to walk across Widdlington from one side to the other. There’s no need for transport. People are so lazy..." Travers sighs dramatically. "You know, I’m a little tired from all this excitement."

He hops into the wheelbarrow, stretches his legs out amongst the books, and lies back, completely relaxed.

They pass by some people on the street staring at the accident. One is claiming that a small green child with a fake mustache caused the accident.

"Children! Bah!" Travers mutters, waving his hand dismissively. "You hear that, Master Devlin? I told you they should be banned too… But alas, thanks to you, Master Devlin, we are no longer in government. So it’s not our problem anymore. We have more pressing matters to deal with. Like finding this joker."

Travers waves one of the books in the air for emphasis.

The Master shakes his head in continued disbelief.

Scanning through the books, Travers attempts to find infomation on the author.

Chapter 3:

Back at the Master's large dormitory on the council grounds, Travers is lounging in a chair by the window, engrossed in one of the Edverse novels, having already devoured several in quick succession. At his desk, the Master works on his reports. Suddenly, he lets out a wet, spluttering fart that echoes through the room.

Travers’ eyes begin to water from the stench.

"Master Devlin! That sounded and smells utterly vile..." Travers scolds, peering over his book with a look of disgust. "I'm trying to read, and you are disrupting my research."

The Master responds with a Muttley-like snigger.

"Trenton Havers has just become Mayor after bringing down the evil dinosaur bird..." Travers mutters, trying to refocus on his book.

Meanwhile, Waldo creeps in through the open window, slithering like a serpent. His movements are predatory, his wild, mad smirk widening as he approaches Travers unnoticed. With a sudden leap, Waldo lunges at him, and the two goblins collide. They morph into a large, featureless ball of green goo, bouncing chaotically around the room. The gelatinous mass smears slime on walls, ceilings, and furniture before the Master finally manages to separate them.

Travers sits dazed, disoriented, and visibly annoyed, while Waldo is raring for another round.

"WIDDLE FRUNKUT, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" the Master roars, his fury unrestrained. "You're going in that corner right now!"

The Master points at the corner, and Waldo slinks off, still grinning. Travers nods in agreement, only to be taken by surprise when the Master turns on him.

"And you, Travers. That corner! NOW!"

"WHAT? Nooo, Master Devlin, you are punishing out of turn. I'm the victim here! I was just assaulted in a frenzied attack... by your pupil!" Travers protests.

He gestures toward Waldo, who waves back with a deranged grin.

"I don’t care, Travers. You must have done something to antagonize him. Now get in the corner!"

Travers sulks as he joins Waldo in punishment. He glares at his fellow goblin, who is still smirking smugly. Travers begins to regret ever declaring Waldo a national treasure.

"The masssssta is Polish!" Waldo blurts out, unhelpfully. "Master Devlinzyck is his true name!"

The Master storms over to Waldo, seizes him, and puts him over his knee. Without hesitation, he starts smacking the goblin's bottom.

"You will not make false claims about your Master's nationality!"

Waldo screeches, then liquefies into slime and slithers up the Master's body. With unsettling ease, he oozes into the dragon’s nostrils. The Master shrieks, his instincts triggering his "Sharptooth thing," as he claws at his snout. Goblin snot bubbles form as he gags and struggles.

Travers seizes his chance for retribution, lighting his cigar and using it to scorch the Master's rear. Unfortunately, the dragon's trousers ignite, engulfing him in flames.

"Fire! Fffffire... FIRE!" Travers yells in panic, "WATER! I'll get water... somewhere!"

The Master flails wildly, then crashes through the second-story window, landing with a resounding thud in the campus courtyard. He staggers to his feet and dives, bottom-first, into a nearby fountain, extinguishing the fire. As he splashes in the water, he expels a large blob of goblin slime from his nose. The blob reverts to Waldo’s goblin form, who gleefully starts paddling in the fountain.

"Let's do that again, Stan! That was fun!" Waldo exclaims with childlike glee.

A crowd gathers, staring at the drenched, seething Master as he sits nursing his scorched rear.

"Out of my way! This is an emergency!" Travers shouts, darting between legs. "National Treasure Travers here to the rescue!" He sprays a fire extinguisher directly in the Master's face.

The Master’s head turns ghostly white under the foam, masking his fury.

"Don't worry, folks! It's safe now..." Travers announces confidently. "No need to thank me. Your constant adulation is more than enough. You know, I helped put out the Great Fire of London—"

"Hey, Masta! You finally got your wish! You're finally a white man! Albeit a Romanian one. Which doesn’t really count," Waldo interjects, laughing and splashing more water.

Master Ron, a council elder, approaches the commotion, confused.

"What’s going on here? Did the Challenger blow up again?" he mumbles, his gaze landing on the Master. "Oh... Master Devlin, this fountain was built in honor of my dear friend, Maggie... Maggie, uh..." He pauses, lost in thought. "Well, anyway, it’s not a swimming pool. I need all my councilmen at the top of their game, not lounging about in fountains. We’re invading Grenada tomorrow. I must say, I’m very disappointed in you, Master Devlin. I expected better of you. May Ed have mercy on your soul."

With that, Master Ron wanders off aimlessly.

"I’m very angry right now..." the Master mutters to himself, his voice low and dangerous.

"MARCO!" Waldo shouts, splashing playfully.

Dr. Linda Shawn appears, rushing to guide Master Ron away.

"Oh dear... come along, Ronald. You shouldn’t be wandering around out here. Have you had your medication today?" she asks, taking his hand.

Travers steps between them, incensed.

"Take your filthy hands off that man!" he declares dramatically, pointing his finger at her. He turns to Ron. "Master Ron, don't listen to this woman. She will bewitch you with her lady bits and then turn you into a tyrant, as she did to me! I was good mayor until she came along, then i became mad with power, all thanks to her bad influence! Tell him, Master Devlin!"

"Well, I uh...I think i should stay here with Master Travers, Doctor. I don't want to take any more of those pills. They make me feel unwell." Ron says, Unsure.

"Quiet Travers!" Master Devlin barks. "Ronald, you should go with Dr Shawn, you need proper therapy..."

The master then turns to Travers.

"You were not a good mayor Travers. Quite frankly you were appalling. You were / are a sex fiend and a maniac drunk on power. You kept making a series of horrible decisions and then taking absolutely no responsibility for your actions. Kind of like what you are doing now. Dr Shawn was brought in to try and tackle your sex addiction and your decline into madness. The only reason you are bitter towards her is because she repeatedly refused to give you oil changes. The only person to blame is you Travers and no one else. That will be enough out of you, now get on board."

"So...She still has you under her spell too? Fine. I will deal with this myself." Travers retorts as he pulls out a 38. Snubnose revolver from his pocket and points it at the doctor. "You are not taking Master Ron! He's a fellow national treasure."

Waldo looks around in excitement, mouth open wide. Things just got interesting.

"Are you completely out of your mind, Travers?" the Master shouts as he lunges at Travers.

The .38 revolver goes off. Travers ends up sprawled on the ground with the Master on top of him.

"Ha! GAAAY!" Waldo laughs, pointing gleefully.

The Master rolls off Travers, revealing a bullet wound in his gut.

"You son of a bitch, Travers!" the dragon snarls, coughing up blood.

"Master Devlin, what the hell are you—oh... oh no... no! Somebody get a doctor!" Travers panics, his voice cracking.

"You shot me, you prick!"

"I didn't mean to! Why did you lunge at me??"

"You were going to shoot people!"

"No, I wasn’t... I was just—"

Dr. Shawn rushes forward to aid Master Devlin, but Travers reflexively raises the gun, pointing it at her again.

"NOT YOU, BITCH! A real doctor..." Travers growls.

Masters Council head physician, Dr. Beverly Crusher, suddenly appears. "I'm a real doctor. Get out of the way, please!" she says, pushing through the crowd before attending to the Master and scanning him with her medical tricorder.

"Travers, why do you have a gun?" Dr. Shawn asks, standing up and turning to face him.

"For protection, of course!"

"Protection from whom?" the Master snaps. "You're the only one here with a gun! This isn’t America, goddammit."

"Well, as hard as it is to believe, not everyone I encounter is as happy to see me," Travers explains. "I was a tyrannical dictator for a few weeks. Not everyone’s forgotten... yet. Some are quite aggressive and hostile!"

"Yet somehow, I am to blame for that?" Dr. Shawn interjects.

"Exactly!" Travers responds, his tone heated. "You encouraged my madness with your psychobabble... Self-love and all that crap. It turned me into a hedonistic monster with no control..."

"Travers... get out of my sight," the Master says, still wincing in pain, his voice ragged with each cough.

"No, Master Devlin... I’m not leaving you. You are my only friend. It was an accident! We both made mistakes..."

Waldo jumps between them. "Oh lighten up, Travie! We shoots the masta all the time. He's just playing the victim! We'll sort him out..." Waldo then rushes towards the Master and Dr Crusher. "Move bitch, get out the way! Doctor Waldo is in the house!" Waldo then picks up Dr Crusher and throws her seven feet away, into the fountain with a splash. He reaches into the bullet wound with his clawed goblin fingers and grabs some intestines and starts dragging them out. The master snarls in pain. Flames shoot from his nostrils.

"You see the problem with the masta is that he eats too many link sausages and getsa tummy ache. We need to extract them! Here, Travie, take these!" Waldo explains as he dumps a bundle in Travers' arms.

"But doesn't he need these?" Travers inquires, as he starts to feel sick and resists the urge to vomit.

"Not at all. Trust me, I'm a medical doctor with centuries of experience." Waldo assures him, proudly.

"Don't worry master devlin. We'll get to the bottom of this. I bet it was those damn Libyans again." Master Ron chimes in.

The Master starts to go into shock. A soaked Dr. Crusher reappears.

"Oh my... Widdle Frunkut! Stop that! You’re going to kill him!" she says pushing her way back in.

"Silent wench! Begone! Medicine is no business of females!" Waldo hisses.

"No, Wally, I think we should listen to her. This doesn't seem right at all." Travers intervenes. "The Master is bleeding all over the courtyard!"

Waldo and Travers start squabbling which quickly turns into another goblin scuffle, forming a new green ball of chaos which allows Dr Crusher to help Master Devlin. He's soon put on a stretcher and taken inside. Goblin Slayer, acting as Council security shows up and picks up Travers and Waldo in each hand. They both frantically wriggle like a pair of cats.

"Detain them both in the psychiatric wing immediately. Assign them each to secure observation cells until further assessment can be conducted." Dr Shawn orders.

"Under who's authority??" Travers demanded, "Sir Goblin Slayer, this woman is a succubus. She has the council bewitched..."

"YEAH! What the mayor man said!" Waldo agreed, still wriggling.

Goblin Slayer ignores their protests and carries them off to the psychiatric wing of the infirmary. He then h

"Don't think Goblin Slayer he likes us's very much...Must be racisms." Waldo grumbles.

Heading downstairs to the basement area, Waldo’s personal cell awaits him—it’s a familiar sight since he’s a regular. The small enclosure, about 3 feet wide by 2 feet deep and elevated 4 feet off the ground, is embedded in the wall. Inside, the cell's interior is decorated with various drawings he has made over time, giving it a personal touch.

Sliding open the door and placing Waldo inside, he quickly makes himself at home. He hops onto his tiny bed, clutching a well-worn stuffed toy of his master, and pulls out a harmonica and begins to play.

Travers is also placed in a separate goblin-sized observation cell nearby, ensuring both are securely contained.

As Waldo’s off-key harmonica wail filled the air, Travers sat stiffly on the edge of the cot in his unfamiliar cell, eyeing the cold, confining walls.

Chapter 4

Three months later...

The Master hobbled slowly toward the cells, leaning heavily on his walking stick. The wound in his belly, though healing, still throbbed with each step. His movements were slow, deliberate. As he neared the cell block, the sounds of life within grew louder.

Inside, Waldo was lounging on his bed, clearly enjoying his stay. He treated the cell like a vacation home, humming contentedly as he surveyed his surroundings. Travers, however, was a different story. His once-impressive mustache had been replaced by a long, scruffy beard that hung limply from his chin. He was no longer himself—dirty, disheveled, his unwashed state a silent testament to his crumbling mental state.

Upon noticing the Master, Waldo sprang up from the bed with a wide grin, his energy unchanged. "Ah! Saso! You still smell atrocious."

The Master winced, the scent of his aftershave unmistakable in the stale air. "It's the aftershave. I keep getting it for Christmas."

Waldo smirked, his eyes filled with amusement. "Ah, I see. How are you? Did you get my card?"

"I got it... thank you. Dr. Shawn sent me your article on surgical addiction in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry."

"Ooh issat so? And?"

The Master hesitated, his gaze flickering with a slight discomfort. "To be honest, rather horrifying. Even for a dragon."

"Thank you. You're too kind." Waldo's voice oozed sarcasm. "So to what do we owe this pleasure? Are you here to release us? We should very much wish to leave now... The Travers man smells worse than you do... Look at him... constantly spanking it into his bed sheets. I imagine they need to be disposed of in a furnace by now."

The Master narrowed his eyes, clearly unamused. "I will see to Travers shortly. I’m here for another matter."

"I’m not here to release you. I’m here for your advice... Dr. Waldo."

"And what sort of advice could such a distinguished masta like yourself expect to gain from wiffuhuh? I'm afraid I know little about juggling multiple nationalities."

The Master’s eyes darkened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Several more bodies have turned up. Similar modus operandi to how Captain Katsuragi was killed. I thought you’d have some ideas. I’m asking you to tell me what they are."

"Why should we? Isn't the famous Lt. Waldo already on the case? Handsome fellow, isn't he? I like the cut of his jib. In fact, I've often wondered if we are related."

The Master rolled his eyes. "And if I'm not mistaken..." Waldo continued, "...you yourself were a prime suspect in that murder... Have you been a naughty dragon, Danny?"

The Master tensed, but said nothing.

"Lt. Waldo hasn't been seen for some time, and there was no evidence of my involvement," the Master snapped. "Besides, there was a lot more evidence implicating you in that crime. Still is. But you are in here. Copycat, perhaps?"

Waldo cocked his head, his smile never wavering.

"As for why help me? There are things you don’t have I could get you... Research materials. Maybe even computer access. I can speak to Dr. Shawn..."

"Dr. Shawn..." Waldo snorted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Gruesome woman... rather severe, isn't she? Though we must admit, she's rather fetching... You speak of her often. Tell me, Stan, do you harbor intentions toward the good doctor? Do you fantasize about her?"

"I do not. And we aren’t here to talk about me." The Master’s tone was sharp, dismissive. "You will get to see the file on this case. And there’s another reason..."

Waldo raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What other reason?"

"I thought you might enjoy the challenge... And to find out if you are even crazier than the person I am looking for."

Waldo chuckled, his grin widening. "Very slippery of you, Saso... Appealing to Wiffuhuh's vanity... Frankly, we're surprised you even had the guts to come and see us after our last encounter. Speaking of which, how's your belly? Does it still hurt? Does it make you think of your old pal Waldo when you roll over in your bed at night?"

The Master’s expression faltered, a flicker of pain passing through his eyes.

"....."

Waldo leaned forward, his voice turning softer, more probing. "Do you dream much, Stan?"

"Goodbye, Doctor Waldo..." The Master muttered, turning away, his voice tinged with quiet frustration as he began to walk off.

"But you haven't even threatened to take away my crayons yet!" Waldo called after him, his voice a playful taunt.

The Master ignored him, his steps growing heavier with each passing moment.

Waldo grinned, not ready to give up yet. "The Bisected girls... There was something different about them, wasn’t there? Something involving gold, perhaps?"

The Master paused mid-step, then turned, his gaze narrowing as he fixed Waldo with an intense stare. "..."

Waldo smirked. "Go on then, give me the file. And I'll tell you what I think..."

The master walks back over to the small cell. He's practically eye level with the little goblin. He pulls a specially made folder the size of a pocket notepad from his breast pocket, opens a compartment and slips it through into the narrow opening. Waldo walks over and opens the folder with a creepy excitement.

"Ah yes...Molten gold down the gullet. An oldy but a goody..." Waldo says, examining the contents.

The Master goes over and pulls up a chair and carefully takes a seat while Dr Waldo reads over the little note pad. The Master opens his jacket and examines his shirt which is drenched in sweat. He also looks feels and recoils at his slowly healing wound. He notices Travers rocking back and forth, muttering to himself like a wild man.

"We have a very disturbed boy, Stanley..." Waldo says, looking up at the Master.

"The girls, are all aged between 15 and 25. Different appearance, different races..." The master starts to explain.

"Let me guess, the WPD are at a loss to see how he's choosing them...All winding up dead in an alley, weeks after their disappearance..." Waldo jumps in.

"Cause of death, internal scalding, followed by post mortem mutilation...",

"As if by a savage beast..." Waldo remarks looking at the claws marks on a victim's corpse.

"..."

"These girls...They came from well to do families, yes? Rich heiresses?"

"That's right but we couldn't find other known connection..."

"I understand there's been a spate of robberies recently...Goldsmiths and jewelers?" Waldo continued, "One might want to compare notes on the cases...Also, the police should be looking into real estate. He's holding them somewhere. My guess is some kind of mansion, or better yet a castle... Somewhere private and upmarket, but with a view...I'm surprised you needed to come to me with this...Surely you would be best equipped to deal with this scoundrel..."

"Meaning?"

"Oh come now danny...The victims A bunch of little rich girls...Princesses one might say...A killer with an obsession with gold and burning victims...Our boy likes the classics, Stan... Most likely he's got himself a nice castle up in the mountains somewhere with a lone high tower, in which he keeps his victims locked within..."

"You're saying he fancies himself a dragon?"

"Indeed...either that or perhaps he simply IS a dragon...Like you, Danny..."

"...."

"So, now that Wiffuhuh has been of assistance and is all reformed now, i think it's only fair that it be set free - and we shall be taking travers with us. he's a mess, we need to rehabilitate him. For the good of goblindom..."

"Unfortunately I can’t let you do that. Travers is very sick and you can't reform him...you have certain disadvantages..."

"What disadvantages?"

"You're insane."

"Irrelevent. The fact is we're due to be married soon. You can release us into the custody of our fiance. She's a shop assistant she's used to dealing with nutters all the time...As for Travers, Wiffuhuh is the only one can help him. You lot have already done enough damage. Incarceration broke him. He spent the first few weeks consuming those dreadful Edverse novels. He was obsessed. Now he's turned into a deranged hobo. You should release him into our care...now..."

"No. And you need to stop marrying people. It's ridiculous. As for Travers, I will need to go assess him before I can make a decision...Goodbye, Dr Waldo."

The Master hobbles over to Travers’ cell. He is sitting on the floor facing away from the glass window. His hair is a lot longer and he has developed a scruffy beard.

"No, Mrs Cumberworth. It is you who is speaking out of turn and you shall have no cakes today..." Travers rambles to himself, "I don't care, I'm the administrator of this facility and I say we invade the netherrealm tomorrow..."

"Hey Travers… snap out of it" The Master says, knocking of the cell glass.

"Go away. I'm busy. Diplomacy takes time..."

"It’s me, Travers! Master Devlin..."

"Travers?? Who the hell is Travers? My named is Lt. General Trenton R. Havers. United Sovereign States Airforce. Do you have your ticket?? You need a ticket to be in here. You can apply for one at the bureau on 37th street."

"Oh dear..."

A moment of recognition appears in Travers' mad eyes.

"What a minute...Kelvin? Kelvin Steele! As I live and breathe. It's been forever and a day. Why didn't you say it was you? So...Major... the Erusians captured you too huh? Welcome to this little slice of hell. I've been here 7 years..."

"Uh...Yes, General. I don't have a ticket though..."

"Oh...well...I can maybe let it slide this one time... just try and look like you belong here. Don't attract attention to yourself. That slippery fellow over there is an enemy spy...The little green one with the crayons."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"So...how was things going before you got shot down? Are we winning? I've got a briefing with the President Ryder in half an hour. I'm going to make my recommendation to her that we unleash our nuclear armaments on those bastards and bring an end to this Ed forsaken war. It's the only way!"

"Indeed. If you'll excuse me, General..."

The Master goes to see Dr Shawn hoping to learn more about what has happened to his friend. Chapter 5

Without knocking, the Master urgently barges into Dr. Shawn's office, waving one of the Edverse books and startling her as she secretly indulges in some chocolate.

"Doctor, you're going to have to confiscate Travers's books and give him some new ones. He's tipped further over the edge and has now become the character in his book."

"I don’t understand. What is the significance of these books?"

"Please don’t lock me up for saying this, but... this series of books appears to have been written by someone who has been tracking our entire lives. The character names and job titles are different, but otherwise, they are identical to us!"

"Okay...?"

"Look, let me show you!"

The Master opens a passage from one of the books and reads aloud:

"Following his appointment with Dr. Chilton, General Trenton Havers exits into the clinic reception, while Major Kelvin Steele stays behind to discuss Havers' seriously unhealthy sexual addiction with the doctor. Meanwhile, Havers disrupts the other waiting patients, loudly speaking on his phone and masturbating into a plant.""Dr. Chilton?"

"Yes… and now our Travers thinks he is Trenton Havers, and I am Major Kelvin Steele. He still believes he is a national treasure, but now a Lt. General of something called the United Sovereign States Airforce..."

"Oh dear… where did you come across these books?"

"A Waldostones in town."

"Well, I’ll have his books confiscated then. Perhaps I’ll replace them with something a little more appropriate. The Brontë Sisters, perhaps. It might trigger him to respect women better."

"Good idea!"

"Who is the author of these books?"

"An Edward Mulvin. I need to go track him down."

"Hold on, isn’t Dr. Chilton a character from the Thomas Harris novels?"

"Indeed. It turns out that this Mr. Mulvin has a habit of reusing characters from other books and films. There may very well be a plagiarism lawsuit coming his way."

There's a knock on the door.

Dr. Shawn: "Come in."

A delivery man, wearing sunglasses and looking a bit like the actor Norman Reedus, enters carrying a package.

"Dr. Shawn?"

"Yes?"

"Got a delivery here for Mr. Trenton Havers c/o Dr. Shawn at this address..." The man grunts. "Sign here, please..."

Dr. Shawn signs the pad and takes the package.

"Have a nice day," the delivery man mumbles as he walks out of the office.

Dr. Shawn opens the package to reveal a book. She sighs.

"Enter the Edverse Vol. 8: The Waldoverse Conspiracy, by Edward Mulvin..."

"Waldoverse?"

She turns the book over and reads the blurb aloud.

"General Trenton Havers has lost his goddamn mind. At least that's what everyone around him thinks. Since uncovering a mysterious series of novels called The Waldoverse Chronicles that bizarrely seem to mirror his own life and that of those around him, his grip on reality has started to slip. It's now up to his friend, Major Kelvin Steele, who must enlist the aid of an old adversary if he's going to uncover the mystery of the books and save his friend's sanity."

Dr. Shawn puts the book down. She takes off her glasses and rubs her brow wearily. "What the hell is going on? How did this even get delivered here?"

"I don't know," the Master shakes his head. "I suspect it's another one of The Editor's tricks, but he tends to be more upfront about his mischief."

"The Editor? I didn’t take you for a religious man, Steven."

"I'm not... It's... complicated... Can I see that?"

She hands the Master the book. He starts to skim through it.

"Hmm... Most of this book is empty!"

"What do you mean?"

"The text only goes up to... page 27! Look, the rest are just blank."

"Strange. What does the last page say?"

Dr. Frederick Chilton sat behind his large desk, scratching his head in bewilderment. Kelvin was standing before him, waiting impatiently for a response. His large frame obscured the morning light from the window, casting an imposing shadow over Chilton. Finally, Chilton looked up and spoke.

"So, Major, if I'm understanding you correctly, you want me to release not only General Havers into your custody, but also Dr. Farquaad? What? So, you can go on some wild goose chase to find some writer?"

"That's correct, Doctor."

"Perhaps you should be the one staying here. That's the most insane plan I've ever heard. And I'm the administrator of an asylum for the criminally insane..."

"Conventional treatment isn't working for the General. Look at how much he's deteriorated in such a short time of incarceration. We need a new strategy. Give him a purpose. I think the only way is to help him find this Ned Felvin guy who is writing the Waldoverse books and get to the bottom of this conspiracy."

"I accept that treatment hasn't been particularly successful thus far, but the man's a raving lunatic. He's not fit to be out in public. And don't get me started on Dr. Farquaad. Have you forgotten he's a homicidal maniac?"

"I haven't forgotten. But you know as well as I do that he'll escape sooner or later. He's already getting bored with his 'holiday.' Better that I take him with us and make use of him. He's good at finding people. We need him to find the writer. He's unpredictable, I know, but I’ve had some success in the past when he's focused on a particular mission."

"Be that as it may, I can't sign off on this ludicrous plan."

"I'm here as a courtesy, Doctor. My superiors have already approved of this plan. If you don't like it, I suggest you call President Ryder. She's already signed off on this."

"Heh... I knew that woman was completely irrational. I'm pleased to say I never voted for her. Alright, fine, Major, have it your way... But I'm not going to be held responsible for what happens."

Master Devlin: "Hmm well, Dr Shawn I guess that’s that. The editor obviously wants these two released, so we may as well oblige him."

Dr Shawn: " I don't like it, but Widdle Frunkut is your pupil so of course I will release it to you. And I suppose Mr Travers is too...Just be careful."

"So it is official. Travers is now the Master’s pupil..."

***

The Master heads down to the cells to release Waldo and Travers. As the cell window slides open, Havers' pungent, ripe odour hits the master like a truck full of manure. His eyes water and he starts to tremble. His walking stick shakes violently. Havers emerges from the cell cautiously like an unsure animal, popping his head out and scanning the room before dropping down on to the floor. Waldo on the other hand, runs over excitedly, climbs up the Master's back, wraps himself round the back of his neck, and proceeds to rub its head against him like a cat.

The story continues in The Edverse Arc Part 2.