Leor. Is he really a minor character?

Marcus and Lior stood in the stone hall, like two heroes stuck in a side quest location. It was quiet around, except for the light quacking of torches and a very suspicious echo, reminiscent of breathing... perhaps the walls.
"So, you're stuck here too?" Marcus asked, trying to make out Lior's expression. But for some reason he was still standing in the shadows. And this shadow was moving behind him. Too pathetic to be an accident.
"I wouldn't call it 'stuck,'" Lior chuckled, leaning against a column. "More like I'm just... waiting for my moment."
"Waiting for my moment? You sound like you're in a manga... Don't you want to accidentally say 'everything went according to plan'?"
"Maybe," he grinned. "But more like I'm just in no hurry."
"And have you been here long?"
— Enough to be disappointed in the design of the labyrinth, — he kicked a skull lying nearby. — The budget was clearly cut. Where are the acid slugs? At least one mini-boss? Solid metaphors of fear and narrow passages.
— Are you sure you're not from around here? — Marcus narrowed his eyes. — You sound like a guy from the forums.
— Forums? Ha! I was on the damn writers' discord server before it became mainstream.
Marcus choked on air:
— Wait, you're a writer?!
Lior nodded.
— Well... former. Or future. Time isn't exactly linear here, you know.
— What are you getting at?
— I'm not just here. I have, let's say, an unfinished business. You came here as the "protagonist", and I... I have to finish something.
— You say that like you know more than you should.
— Me? Well... I know that the author sometimes forgets characters, and then suddenly — bam! — they become important. Have you ever thought about why you met me here?
— Coincidence?
— Nothing in this story is a coincidence. Except maybe your sense of fashion, — he nodded at the combination bow and slippers.
— Hey! These are fashionable comfortable shoes! And the bow... I just drew it in the interface!
— That's what I mean, — Lior grinned. — You have a system, too, right?
Marcus tensed up:
— ...You hear it too?
— I hear mine. It's... a little different. More... sarcastic. Almost like me. Or vice versa.
Marcus looked at Lior suspiciously. Meanwhile, Lior picked up a stick lying around and started twirling it like a fencer.
— Are you a swordsman?
— Sometimes. Sometimes a scriptwriter. Sometimes just an observer. But in short… I’m one of those who once didn’t become a hero. But still here.
— Sounds gloomy.
— It’s a style. And you, Marcus… you’re interesting. Not everyone would talk to someone like me.
— I just don’t like being alone. And you mentioned “author”… and that’s kind of my skill, by the way.
Lior raised an eyebrow:
— Really? So you really aren’t ordinary. “Writer”, huh?
— Potentially strong, with limitations that would drive me crazy. Basically, the standard set.
Lior laughed. His laugh was a little hoarse, but not malicious. It was as if he hadn’t laughed in a long time — or couldn’t find a reason to.
— Well, Marcus Cannet. It looks like this story is getting more and more interesting. I think you and I will fight side by side for a while. Or we will end up on opposite sides.
- Are you hinting or threatening now?
- I'm just being dramatic, - Lior shrugged. - Old habits.
Marcus shrugged, although a slight anxiety remained in his soul. He felt that Lior was not just a chance meeting. This guy was definitely hiding something. Maybe even from himself.
- Well, let's go look for a way out? - Lior asked, twirling the stick. - Or do you want to whine for a couple more minutes?
- Let me think... can I have both options?
- I approve. Let's start with whining.