The candle burned low in Oliver's apartment as he stared at the latest inked pages of Clarke Kent. This chapter was personal. Clarke, now a rising hero within the fictional Village of Skyreach, faced an interrogation by a shadowy council who feared his popularity.
In the panel, Clarke stood tall before them, fists clenched but head held high.
"I don't want to control people," he said, "I want to inspire them. If that scares you—maybe it should."
Oliver leaned back, satisfied. The message was subtle, but not too subtle. It would resonate. With the kids. With the readers. Maybe even with someone like… Sasuke?
He sighed. "I'm making trouble with a pen."
And the village was definitely watching.
The Hokage's Office
Hiruzen looked down at the newest volume of Clarke Kent, the ink still fresh.
"He's bold," he muttered, tapping the final page. "Too bold for his age."
"That's what concerns me," Kakashi said, arms crossed.
"But it's also what gives him power."
Danzo stepped from the shadows, uninvited but unsurprising. "He's beginning to align the village behind his ideals, one reader at a time."
Hiruzen didn't flinch. "Is that a bad thing?"
Danzo stepped forward. "Inspiration breeds deviation. If he's not reined in now, he will become dangerous. Let me guide him. I will make him an asset."
"No," Hiruzen said firmly. "You'll make him a weapon."
Danzo's one visible eye narrowed, but he said nothing more. Instead, he vanished back into the dark hallways from which he came.
A Visitor in the Night
Oliver was sketching when a soft knock tapped on his window—not his door.
He rose slowly, kunai quietly slipping into his hand. He opened the window carefully.
A masked figure in black crouched on the edge of the frame—Root. He knew it instantly. The chakra was cold. Controlled.
The operative spoke, voice monotone but respectful. "Oliver Queen. You are invited."
Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Invited to what?"
"To become part of something greater. A place where potential is refined… where vision is understood."
Oliver's grip on his kunai tightened. "You mean Root."
The operative nodded once. "You are being watched. Your choices will define your path. Accept… and you'll have the tools to change the world. Decline… and you may find others less kind."
Oliver didn't speak.
The operative left a black scroll on the windowsill. "You have until the new moon."
And then, like smoke, he was gone.
Torn Between Pages and Power
The scroll sat untouched on Oliver's desk all night.
He stared at it like it might bite.
Could he join Root and protect his manga's message from within? Or would they twist it? Twist him?
Clarke Kent was facing the same dilemma in the next chapter. Fiction imitating life—or was it the other way around?
In the manga's world, Clarke had said: "A hero doesn't compromise with fear. He stands in its way."
Oliver had written it. Now he had to live it.
He picked up the scroll.
And slowly… he opened it.
To Be Continued…