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Master Of My Universe: The Author Who Became the Hero's System

Adwit_ojha
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
You can have a chat with me on discord. https://discord.gg/MgVng8Fh Mark Eisner is the greatest example of a failure. Unable to get his dream job, he resorts to writing a story, a story close to his heart, a story in which he expressed himself to the fullest. It was the delusional universe he created for himself. Unable to grasp the attention of readers, his book was deemed a failure as well. Heartbroken after suffering his crushing fate, Mark commits suicide, uttering his last words; proclaiming the end of his story. But was this the end of his story? Hell Nah! He is far from being dead. He finds himself, astonishingly, still possessing his consciousness, even though his existence is formless. What he then sees is unbelievable. The hero he created, the hero "he only" loved, the hero that reflected himself... His own protagonist. Reincarnated as the system of the hero of his own novel, Mark undergoes an epic journey with his unanticipated creation, helping him throughout, knowing all about his predicaments. There are a few rules to him - 1. RELAY ONLY REQUIRED MESSAGE TO THE PLAYER 2. DROP DESIGNATED REWARDS 3. EXPEL THE PLAYER IF PLAUSIBILITY REACHES LIMITS But.... Is that all? Does he really thinks events will take place just as he layed them? . . . Is he really that Omniscient ? Is he the only one.... . . .
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Chapter 1 - Coagulation of Blood: The End of an Unknown Story

#NOTE: The main story line begins in chapter 1. The series of 3 prologues is required for the introduction of the MC, and his journey to the start of the real plot line. It is highly recommended that you read the prologues first. You may skip it as it does not affect the main storyline, but is just a buildup.

It has been a year since Mark Eisner's book got rejected. Even though he visited more than 21 publishers, all of his attempts resulted in failure. All of them gave him the same answer. The answer which repeated itself in his head all the time. It was so painful that Mark stopped interacting with the outside world.

"We are really sorry, but your story doesn't have the qualities which match the current reader liking status".

The same reply crushed him over and over again, rebuilding his figure again, and then destroying it with a merciless ferocity.

Mark Eisner has not been seen for nearly 6 months, as though he had vanished off the face of this planet. But it didn't matter though... as nobody cared for him. And the ones who did were already long gone.

What "life" was left inside of him after losing his job was already long gone. He has become an empty shell of his former self. 

If one was to look at him, he wouldn't even be recognizable. His spirit had already died on the day when his story got rejected. Though he still kept the diary on that very shelf where his late mother's photo resided, as the diary was a gift from her very mother.

His eyes were dead-looking, and his pupils were barely visible.

Day by day, his condition was growing worse. For two weeks, he had refused to eat even a morsel of food. The result of this was his figure was becoming more and more skeletal, his ribs becoming more distinctly visible as each day passed on. 

He has now become so weak that he couldn't move more than twenty steps.

It was not because he lost his job and was unemployed. But because people refused to acknowledge the legacy of the book he created. People just deemed it a failure before even reading it. People neglected the fables of Remirg Kryptos.

Mark Eisner couldn't take that. It was too much for him now. Too much...

After three weeks passed, he lost his ability to walk. For hours he lay in the balcony of his apartment, gazing blankly at the setting sun. Somehow, the orange hue of the sky was soothing his soul.

Somehow managing to find a very old sherd of a pot, he painfully extended his arms to grab it. 

With hands shaking, he brought its sharp edge near to his wrist.

With a vague determination, he said, in a weak voice which was barely louder than a whisper, "Remirg achieves...

.... and that is where... the story ends."

Taking a deep sigh and closing his eyes, he used all of his remaining energy to slit open his wrist.

Blood started gushing out of it, painting his whole palm and thigh crimson. Available with no energy, his hand fell on the ground as he looked one last time at the gorgeous sunset, which was an ephemeral sight for him to behold.

His dry lips broke into a smile for a last time.

"It was a good life mom... though I failed you... I couldn't do anything to save you... And... I couldn't do anything to even save myself... I couldn't even save my own protagonist... 

So... 

I don't deserve to live...."

Slowly waiting for death to overcome him, he just gazed at the sky turning into a darker hue of orange, turning crimson and then purple. But before it became a shade of dark blue...

His vision began to get blurry. It became more and more hazy till he was totally blind.

Feeling that his legs were already soaked, he knew... Finally, his suffering was going to end... He didn't give a damn what would happen to him. He just wanted to disappear from the face of everything, never to be seen by anyone again.

Few minutes later, his sense of hearing faded away as the sounds of the chirping pheasants vanished. 

Mark Eisner finally departed from the mortal world...

He was alone now. Free from everything. Hovering in a subtle darkness, a feeling of deep calmness surging through his formless consciousness. He didn't hear anything, he didn't see anything, smell or felt anything. This was it. He had achieved eternal peace.

Far away from the gazes of cruelty...

But...

Something felt off. He was able to sense a deep, rhythmic thumping sound reverberating from somewhere far away. For some reason, the sound was increasing its pace, thumping faster and faster.

It seemed to approach him.

A second later, Mark was pulled out of the stark abyss. For some reason, he had gained his sight back, though his body was formless, a wisp of wandering consciousness. His formless figure didn't allow him to react to anything.

All around himself, he could see the life of the universe, in a sense of fast motion. Countless stars forming and then destroying themselves in the next second. An endless cycle of birth and death.

In front of him, he could figure out a vague, gigantic figure of an entity, which was looking at him intently. He seemed to be speaking something. His mouth producing the same thumping noise Mark had felt earlier.

For some reason, he didn't feel afraid. Its eyes were showing some kind of pity towards him, even though he couldn't understand what it was saying.

Suddenly, it lifted his nebulous arms and raised him up. Bringing him closer to its face, it was uttering some kind of hymn in a language unknown to Mark.

When it completed its chant, Mark's consciousness was somehow automatically lifted from its hands. He seemed to be floating away into the deep nothingness of the cosmos.

But a moment later, a brilliant purple light engulfed him. It was so bright that it could have illuminated the whole of the universe. Mark seemed to be travelling at such a great speed that it felt like he exceeded the speed of light. Though it didn't matter to him because all he was but a figment of a living being. Something which is not governed by the natural physical laws.

Through this whole process, Mark didn't have a say in anything. He was just being manipulated by unknown beings at their will. 

But after what felt like an eternity of travelling, the purple light began to morph into white. It was like a portal opened for a very brief period.

Mark was hurled into it before he knew what was going on.

It was at this point he lost his consciousness. He didn't know what happened to him along the remainder of his journey...

________________________________________

Mark Eisner opened his eyes, or if told technically, he switched on his vision. 

Something seemed to feel different. He didn't feel any limbs or possessing a head or a torso. He also seemed to be emanating some sort of strange purple glow.

Facing ahead, he recognized the being that was standing in front of him. Though it was the same entity he had encountered first, it was now condensed into a smaller and more solid figure.

It resembled a human, but his features were far more graceful and ethereal.

Opening its mouth, it said, in a language that Mark could understand, with a pleasant smile on his face.

"I was watching you child. You seem to have suffered a lot. Even though you didn't deserve it...

I see that you strongly believe in the "being" that you created. The one about which you wanted to talk about to the whole world.

As a compensation for your suffering, I grant you the firsthand power to witness the musings of your own "being". I give you the power to be his eternal companion. I give you the power to help him. I give you the power to guide him.

Now.... It is your turn... to face him.

You shall now go."

When it ended it speech, Mark was already dumbfounded. He couldn't even think of words to express his feelings. All he wished for, all that he craved for, was going to be right beside him, as his companion!

When the entity looked again at him, it was the last of it.

Before he knew, he was pulled back at a great velocity again.

But this time, it was brief. Before he could know, he had already stopped, mysteriously hovering mid-air, as though magically suspended. Looking around himself, he realized that he was in a city full of people. 

People which looked significantly different from humans. They possessed longer years, almost elf-like, and their skin was a pale shade of beige, suiting the climatic conditions of the planet.

It was the planet of Sebras. The birthplace of Remirg Kryptos.

In his story, Mark used the world of Sebras as his protagonist's first "Tribution zone". The place where Remirg Kryptos had begun his journey.

For some reason, people were not able to see him. His untimely appearance in an unknown world didn't startle even a single living creature.

But still, something was constantly poking his back. Something which felt like a rough finger.

Turning around to locate the source of this nuisance, Mark's vision became wide open.

The person who was poking him was none other than Remirg Kryptos himself. A boy aged sixteen years. Rude externally but soft-hearted and kind from the inside.

He seemed to be poking Mark as an object of intrigue. Trying to figure out what he can do.

Unable to control his annoyance at constantly being poked, Mark exclaimed, "Stop it."

To his amazement, Remirg retreated his hands back, looking at Mark with utter astonishment. He seemed to be taken aback by something. Something which Mark could not comprehend.

It was because from his point of view, he had received a message from a certain glowing purple box which apparently only he could see.

It had popped the message,

[THE SIMULATOR ASKS HIS OWNER TO KINDLY STOP CLICKING]