Nathan scrolls down with his hand, which is hurting from carpal tunnel, as his eyes are fixed attentively on the words on the phone. His lips curl as he thinks of what his friend would do if he were here—probably complain about how he managed to read everything so quickly.

As he continues scrolling, his eyes darken with disappointment, and his smile is replaced with a frown as he puts aside his phone with a loud groan.

"Ugh, another one," Nathan lamented inwardly, having already guessed what was going to happen.

"Seriously, why do these authors build their scum with so much character only to have them killed off in the most obvious way?" Nathan's growing frustration overwhelmed him. As an avid novel reader his whole life, he had seen all tropes imaginable at least once; therefore, he had already made preferences on which tropes he liked, hated, or just thought were boring.

Nathan got up, went to his laptop, and wrote his thoughts into internet forums. He then saw pownedC34, one of the people who always seemed to respond, write, addressing Nathan:

*You like redemption arcs, don't you?*

"Hey, don't say it like that's so damn obvious, you OP," Nathan thought inwardly in silence as the user typed again.

*Most authors tend to just kill off characters because it's hard to write redemption arcs, especially ones which are coherent and make sense for the character. You would understand if you ever wrote a novel*

Nathan frowned, looking at the drawer to his right with a tightly knitted expression. He opened it, revealing a pile of papers—all stories he had written but lacked the confidence to publish.

"Eh, I guess so," Nathan muttered, unable to keep his emotions in check as he forced himself to smile. "Who would want to read my stuff anyway?"

Nathan gave himself a self-deprecating laugh as he closed his drawer but was unable to let go of his emotions. Therefore, he decided to take a stroll at midnight. It was something he had always enjoyed, looking up at the myriad of stars which cleared his head, but tonight he saw not a single star in the sky.

"I guess light pollution is really a thing, huh? Well, I'm part of the problem and I don't regret it!"

Nathan strolled around, eventually deciding to sit on a bench as he looked up at the starless sky. He had never felt so lost before. If he were to describe it in the fashion of a novelist, it would be a "soul-crushing sense of helplessness."

With nothing else to do, he took out his phone from his pocket.

"Might as well complete this. I swear I'm never listening to Liz again," Nathan swore to himself as he unlocked his phone. But then a slightly pungent smell filled his nose as a sharp cold pierced small areas on his clothes and skin.

F**k.

Nathan cursed as rain poured down. He quickly put his phone into his pocket, slid his hood on, and ran back to his house. As he did, he saw lights coming towards him and suddenly felt a sharp crushing pain in his chest as he was launched into a wall.

*Gah!*

Nathan struggled as he felt fluid squirming around his insides, and some of that liquid came out of his mouth, dyeing his face red.

Ah... I'm dying, aren't I? A truck, eh? Liz would probably scream, "How could you do this, Truck-kun," at my funeral, wouldn't she? My parents would be surprised I came out of the house for once... ahaha.

Nathan's eyes wandered to the phone next to him, its screen cracked but still visible. Out of honor or stupidity, Nathan took the effort to reach his hand out and scroll before he closed his eyes.

Nathan was awoken by the sound of loud shrieking and applause. As he opened his eyes, he was stunned at the sight: a pavilion with marble walls inlaid with gold and a red carpet filled with spectators, some wearing expensive clothing while others wore uniform-like clothes, and a few people who almost seemed like royalty. Nathan turned his head to see a young boy with innocence in his eyes and a determined expression raise his sword in the air to the applause of everyone.

Nathan's eyes fell to his own body and clothes, all unfamiliar, and to the reflection in the sword next to him. If he had to explain this like a novelist, it would be...

"First second of pandemonium."