Lying on the cold ground, surrounded by familiar faces, I felt the weight of the emotions consuming me: anger, disillusionment, pain.
The relentless rain tried to wash away the indelible stain of my mistake, but it only intensified the charged atmosphere.
A woman approached, the blade of her sword gleaming coldly under the gray sky.
The sword pointed directly at me.
Her eyes overflowed with tears, reflecting the storm within her heart.
"Evan! …Why? Why did you do this?"
Her voice cut through the air like a blade, piercing my heart with sharp pain.
Struggling to breathe, I felt the weight of my choices crushing me relentlessly.
I also asked myself why.
'Why did I choose this path?'
I knew asking myself such things was futile.
Nothing could change what had been done.
My physical wounds were insignificant compared to the agony I felt.
Every choice, every step along the way echoed in my mind as a painful reminder of my mistakes.
With the last strength I had left, I raised my eyes to her, searching for a spark of understanding in her wounded gaze.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she looked at me as if she truly expected a good answer.
In that brief moment, I thought about what I could say.
'If I reveal the truth, expose my reasons, and beg for help, will things change?'
'No!'
'Of course not.'
'And if I at least apologize? Without a good reason, that won't work either.'
I thought about many things—different answers, various reasons, excuses—but somehow, I felt that no answer would satisfy her doubts.
After thinking so much, I closed my mouth again and averted my gaze.
I thought it would be easier.
She hesitated for a moment, the blade trembling slightly in her hand.
With a slow and deliberate motion, she knelt over me, placing her knees on the ground.
Then, she positioned herself sitting on my legs, the sword pointed at my chest.
Her proximity made the emotional pain even more intense; every tear that fell from her eyes seemed to burn my skin.
"If you don't answer me, I will kill you myself."
I remained silent.
"Haah…" — A heavy sigh escaped her lips, her eyes brimming with sorrow.
Before I could attempt to explain, a sudden burst of light engulfed the scene.
The ground trembled beneath us, and a fierce wind howled between us.
A familiar figure appeared before us. Arthur, with his imposing presence, emerged through the crowd.
"That's enough."
His voice was firm but not hostile.
"Before we judge, we need to understand. Evan, what is going on?"
I looked at them, still lying on the cold ground, pondering the question I had just heard.
'What is going on?'
'True. What happened? When did things start to go wrong? …If I remember correctly, it was that day.'
—————————————————————————————————
"Sigh" — I sighed, lost in a sea of uncertainties and doubts about the direction my novel should take.
I am currently 22 years old, living alone, and trying to make a living by writing.
My novel had reached a critical point where any mistake could result in my audience's eternal hatred.
I knew this because I was already seeing funny comments on the previous chapter.
"Author, you bastard. If gods exist, I wish for you to suffer as much as Evan does."
― Hahaha.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Setting that aside, I had two days until the final deadline.
― I guess I'll rest for now.
I let out a yawn, feeling the weight of sleep taking over as I got up from my chair and headed to my bed.
― For now, let's leave it like this, ― I murmured to myself, turning off the lights and settling comfortably under the blankets.
I didn't know what ending I would give to my novel, but I wasn't in a hurry either.
As I drifted into thought, I fell asleep.
—————————————————————————————————
When I opened my eyes, everything seemed different. The ceiling was unfamiliar, my back hurt, and a strange sensation hung in the air.
― …Why does my back hurt?
I murmured in confusion.
I looked around, and the shock of reality hit me hard.
― Damn… Where am I?
I didn't recognize the place.
It was definitely not my house.
I got up, trying to understand what was happening.
I vividly remembered writing my novel the night before I fell asleep, so it made no sense to be here.
Opening a door, I found two children sleeping in separate beds—a boy and a girl.
The boy, who was waking up, looked at me groggily.
"Brother, wasn't today the day you were going to Spectra?"
I was stunned.
'Spectra? Brother? Why is this boy calling me brother?' I thought, confused.
That was the name of the hero academy in my novel.
"…"
A feeling of apprehension washed over me as I entered the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Frozen, I realized it wasn't me.
My mind refused to accept what it was seeing.
Every detail around me felt intensely real, yet absurd at the same time.
I touched my face, trying to convince myself that all of this was just some crazy dream.
But the red eyes reflected in the mirror… were unmistakable.
I was inside my novel, embodying Evan, one of the story's villains.
The children, Noah and Emma, were awake.
"Uaaah…" ― "Brother, if you don't hurry, you'll be late for your first day," said the girl, yawning.
'Brother?…'
The title sounded strange, like a piece that didn't fit.
I was a stranger in that body, in that house, and yet the two children trusted me. It was as if I were playing a role I hadn't been trained for.
Emma stared at me, as if waiting for a response.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
'What should I say to her? How could I make this seem normal?'
In the middle of the silence, I heard my stomach growl and realized that hunger was starting to weigh on me.
Swallowing hard, I decided to at least try to act as if I were… Evan.
"Noah, Emma, are you hungry?" I asked, trying to sound natural.
They answered affirmatively, and I headed to the fridge.
I mixed together some simple ingredients I found in the cabinets.
"Don't worry, I'll make something quick for you."
While I prepared breakfast, Noah and Emma watched me curiously.
"What are you making for us, Evan?" Noah asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Something quick and tasty."
As I fried eggs and prepared toast, I tried to process the surreal situation.
I was in Evan's body, taking care of the siblings he protected. I needed to stay calm and figure out what was happening.
After serving breakfast, I sat with them at the table.
"Eat slowly and enjoy," I said, trying to sound natural.
Noah and Emma began eating, and I got up to go to the bedroom.
If all of this was really real, I needed to prepare for the day.
In the bedroom, I found the Spectra uniform on top of a dresser.
It was a dark blue and black jacket with silver accents, a lightweight and breathable black T-shirt with the academy's logo. Black pants and black sneakers completed the outfit.
'Come to think of it, in my novel, I never specified what the academy uniform looked like.'
"Damn it! Focus!" I muttered to myself as I quickly put on the uniform.
Before leaving, I returned to the kitchen, where Noah and Emma were still finishing breakfast.
They looked at me curiously, as if they were already noticing something strange about my behavior.
"I… I'm leaving now, but I'll be back soon," I said, trying to sound firm.
"Stay here and behave, okay?"
Noah nodded, while Emma asked:
"It's your first day at Spectra, right? Will you tell us all about it later?"
I forced a smile to reassure them.
"Of course, I'll tell you everything," I promised, trying to ignore the weight of nervousness in my stomach.
I left the house and walked quickly down the street.
If things were as I had described, Evan's house shouldn't be far from Spectra.
"…"
"…"
The scenery around me felt both familiar and strange, like a place pulled directly from the pages of my novel.
'Why is this happening to me?'
I took a deep breath, looking at the city around me as I made my way toward my destination.
Walking down the street toward Spectra, I observed the city with a mix of awe and disbelief.
Everything was just as I had imagined, but it carried a more vivid, real touch.
Spectra, the world's largest hero academy, stood imposingly in the distance, almost as if the entire city had been built to surround it.
In other places, it was common for schools, businesses, and communities to establish themselves around a city. But here, everything revolved around Spectra, as if life itself pulsed from its center.
Around me, people of all ages went about their day—some Spectra students in uniform, but also workers and local residents, hurrying through busy streets.
The city wasn't prosperous in every corner.
Modest shops and humble homes stood alongside luxury buildings and newer commercial centers.
It was a stark contrast: simple families and workers who had perhaps moved here in search of opportunities and better conditions, and those who truly reaped the city's benefits.
"If everything is correct… I'm in the year 2031," I murmured to myself, trying to process the shock.
"…"
My steps felt heavy, and a mix of apprehension and excitement grew as I approached Spectra.
Soon, the academy stood out before me.
A structure of concrete and metal, sleek and modern, but without the excessive shine of science fiction.
The entrance was imposing, with its dark steel gate reflecting the sky. Lines of light ran along the edges of the façade panels, giving the building an appearance worthy of the tradition and power it represented.
I stopped for a moment, just to take in Spectra.
This was the academy I had created in my novel, but now it stood there, materialized before me, like a monument to ambition and discipline.
As I crossed the gate, I felt something pass through my body.
'If I remember correctly, Spectra had a security system to identify who was entering the academy.'
Once inside, everything seemed busier. Groups of students moved in all directions, the sound of voices and footsteps echoing through the hallways.
Some were chatting animatedly, while others were focused on their notebooks and tablets, absorbed by Spectra's demanding training schedule.
Being there, surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces, made my stomach tighten.
Despite having created this world, I couldn't help but feel like a complete stranger.
I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anxiety and a strange sense of excitement.
I needed to confirm if all of this was real.
I walked through the main hallways, observing the details of Spectra.
Even though I had written about it, it was impossible to include every detail in the text.
That's why I couldn't help but feel surprised, seeing things I hadn't even known existed.
The walls were adorned with panels displaying ancient symbols and logos of partner academies.
To the left, I noticed a training room with reinforced glass windows; students inside were practicing with weapons and magical abilities, their expressions focused on every movement.
Some wore combat gear, others just the standard uniform.
Everything seemed normal for the daily life of an academy dedicated to training heroes.
Further ahead, I saw a weapons section, protected by a security field that safeguarded swords, spears, and other equipment, all neatly organized and ready to be used.
I couldn't help but shiver at the sight of those instruments, imagining the challenges I might face.
I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket—the same one I had found in Evan's room that morning.
It contained basic information about my class.
"3rd floor: Room A-10,"
I murmured, feeling a chill as I remembered the weight of that number in the story.
'If I'm really in Evan's shoes, this means I'm about to meet characters I know down to the last detail… characters I created.'
As I walked down the hallway toward Room A-10, I noticed how other students glanced at me, some with curiosity, others with indifference.
No one seemed to realize that I was more lost than they could possibly imagine.
The constant flow of voices and footsteps was both familiar and overwhelming.
When I finally reached the door of the room, a shiver ran down my spine, and my heart started to race.
I looked at the window beside me and noticed a shadow cast by a tree outside.
The shadow blended with the reflection of my image in the glass—or rather, Evan's image.
Dark hair and intense red eyes, exactly as I had described in the novel.
With a lump in my throat and my chest tight with anxiety, I gave one last look around the hallway, trying to mentally prepare myself for what awaited me.
I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and pushed the door open, finally stepping into what could be the first chapter of the story I never imagined I'd live.