---
The last thing Lyrium remembered was the distinct sound of the notification from the status window—a sound that had become all too familiar since his transmigration.
And now, just like that, he found himself standing in a place utterly destroyed, a desolate and haunting expanse of ruins stretching out as far as the eye could see.
He glanced around at the chaos.
Maybe… a city?
"Where the shit am I now?" Lyrium muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration and confusion.
The words came unbidden, a natural response to the overwhelming sight before him.
He could do nothing but stare at the ruined terrain, feeling small and insignificant amidst the wreckage.
His life had been anything but normal recently.
First, there was his death—a cruel and painful end brought on by lung cancer, a disease he never saw coming.
Then, without explanation, he had awakened in the world of one of his favorite novels, inhabiting the body of Lyrium Blackwood.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
Here he was again, standing in a place he couldn't recognize, yet feeling an eerie sense of familiarity that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"A city, huh," Lyrium mumbled to himself as he took his first cautious step forward.
The crunch of debris beneath his feet echoed unnervingly in the silence.
The city was utterly devastated.
Skyscrapers stood as skeletal remains, their once-proud facades reduced to twisted metal and broken glass.
The streets were cracked and littered with rubble, cars left abandoned and crushed under fallen debris.
It looked like the aftermath of a world-ending battle.
And yet, as Lyrium walked deeper into the ruined city, something tugged at the edges of his memory.
This place… it wasn't just any city.
It felt too familiar, almost intimate.
The streets, the buildings, even the smell of the air—it all resonated with a part of him he couldn't quite place.
His mind whispered that he had been here before, that he knew these streets as if they were the back of his hand.
No. It wasn't just familiarity.
It was ownership.
It felt like this was his place.
His town.
His home.
And yet…
"It's different," Lyrium whispered, his brows furrowing.
It was familiar but distorted, like looking at a reflection in broken glass.
He kept walking, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he roamed the vast expanse of the city, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts.
Eventually, he reached a certain place—a park.
Or what was left of one.
The park was a shadow of its former self, a haunting relic of what might have once been a lively space filled with laughter and life.
The air here was thick and cold, the atmosphere heavy with a sense of despair.
The once-green grass was now a barren wasteland of dirt and ash.
Benches lay overturned and broken, their wood splintered and rotting.
A fountain stood at the center of the park, cracked and dry, its marble surface stained with soot.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that presses against your ears and makes you painfully aware of your own heartbeat.
"This place…" Lyrium murmured, his eyes scanning the desolation. "It's like one of those zombie apocalypse movies. All that's missing are the zombies…"
His attempt at humor fell flat, even to himself.
There were no zombies here, no monsters or creatures lurking in the shadows.
Only silence.
But that silence didn't last.
BAM—!
The sound shattered the stillness like a thunderclap.
Lyrium's head snapped toward the source of the noise just in time to see a body hurtling through the air.
The figure flew past him and crashed into a broken bench with a sickening thud, the wood splintering further under the impact.
"What the hell?!" Lyrium shouted, stumbling back in shock.
He looked at the body—a boy, bloodied and battered, his clothes torn and stained with dirt.
The boy groaned, barely conscious, as he tried to push himself off the ground.
His arms trembled with the effort, and blood dripped from a deep gash on his forehead.
And then Lyrium saw it.
The thing standing behind the boy.
It wasn't human.
A beast.
No. A humanoid beast.
The creature stood tall, its massive frame covered in bulging muscles.
It walked on two legs like a man, but that was where the similarities ended.
Two horns jutted out from its forehead, and its hair—vivid crimson like freshly spilled blood—seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
Its eyes were the most terrifying part.
They were an unnatural combination of colors: vivid blue irises with red pupils that burned with a predatory intensity.
Lyrium's breath hitched as the beast's gaze turned toward the boy on the ground.
It sneered, baring sharp teeth that glinted like knives.
"Are you going to lose again, just like the last time?" the beast growled, its voice deep and guttural, reverberating through the air like a drumbeat. "After all the effort you've put in? After watching everyone you care about die in front of you? This is all you've got?"
The boy didn't answer, his head hanging low as he struggled to stand.
"You're pathetic," the beast continued, its tone dripping with venom. "A failure. A tool for Him to evolve. That's all you are. A disposable pawn in a game you can't even comprehend."
The boy managed to get to his knees, his body shaking.
The beast took a step closer, towering over him.
"You don't even belong in this world," it spat, its voice laced with disdain. "You're an anomaly. A mistake. Isn't that right…"
The beast's lips curled into a cruel smile as it spoke the next words.
"…Lyrium Blackwood."
Lyrium's heart stopped.
The beast's eyes shifted, locking onto him.
"…Or should I call you… Kenny Hagane? The Cosmic Ruler."
The name hit Lyrium like a thunderbolt.
Kenny Hagane.
That was his name.
His real name.
The name he had in his previous life before transmigrating into this world.
"How…" Lyrium whispered, his voice trembling. "How does it know my name?"
The beast's words echoed in his mind, over and over.
"You're an anomaly… trying to take His place…"
Before Lyrium could react, the sky above them cracked open like shattered glass.
The ground beneath his feet began to crumble, and his body started to disintegrate into purple particles.
"No, no, no!" Lyrium shouted, panic setting in.
"What's happening?! How does it know my name? Why did it call me the 'Cosmic Ruler'? What the hell is going on?!"
But there were no answers.
The world dissolved into nothingness, swallowing him whole.
---
Lyrium jolted awake with a gasp, his chest heaving as he sat up.
Sweat drenched his body, his heart pounding like a war drum.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
He looked around, his eyes darting frantically.
The room was white and sterile, almost painfully bright.
He was lying on a bed, the sheets crumpled beneath him.
"Was it… a dream?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
But it didn't feel like a dream.
Every detail, every word, every sensation—it had been too vivid, too real.
Just as he was lost in thought, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.
"Well, look who's finally awake," Victor said, smirking.
---
Victor, the enigmatic shopkeeper and one of the pivotal supporting characters in the novel, stepped further into the room, his gait unhurried but confident.
His piercing eyes, framed by the faint shadows of sleepless nights, scanned Lyrium's face with a precision that made Lyrium feel as if Victor could see through his very soul.
"I see you've woken up after a nice, long slumber, kid," Victor said, his tone casual but tinged with amusement.
Lyrium blinked a few times, still trying to ground himself.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat.
Memories of the ruined city and the beast's haunting words were still fresh in his mind.
Victor tilted his head, studying Lyrium's silence. "You look like you've seen a ghost—or maybe something worse," he remarked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
'Worse?' Lyrium thought. Yeah, that's one way to put it.
But he didn't say it out loud.
Instead, he finally managed to croak, "How long was I out?"
Victor raised an eyebrow. "Oh, just a week."
Lyrium's jaw dropped. "A week?!"
Victor chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Whatever the hell you did to yourself, it knocked you out cold. I had to drag your sorry ass out of the store's front room and patch you up before the bloodstains ruined my floor."
Lyrium frowned, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of his last conscious moments.
The skill.
The fight.
The backlash.
Right.
It was all coming back now.
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Thanks… for that. For, you know, not leaving me there to die or anything."
Victor waved his hand dismissively. "Don't mention it. It's not like I was about to let some dumb kid bleed out on my property. Bad for business."
The older man moved closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he gave Lyrium a quick once-over. Without asking for permission, he placed a firm hand on Lyrium's shoulder, and a faint hum of mana filled the air.
Lyrium stiffened but didn't resist. He had learned by now not to question Victor's methods.
"Hmm," Victor muttered after a moment. "Your body's stabilizing. The mana fluctuations are gone, and your physical stats are back to baseline. You'll live."
"Good to know," Lyrium said dryly.
Victor smirked. "You're welcome."
Lyrium hesitated, his mind still racing with unanswered questions.
But before he could ask any of them, Victor straightened up and crossed his arms.
"So, let me fill you in on what you missed," Victor began, his tone shifting to something more serious. "After I dealt with those Black Marksman bastards outside, I came back to find you lying unconscious with a decapitated corpse next to you. You care to explain how the hell that happened?"
Lyrium blinked. "Uh… I killed him?"
Victor snorted. "No kidding. But how?"
Lyrium hesitated. "I… used that skill."
Victor's eyes narrowed slightly. "The one you bought from me? 'Ruler's Loathing,' was it?"
Lyrium nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. He had barely skimmed through the skill's description before using it.
He hadn't fully understood the risks.
Victor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Kid, let me give you a piece of advice. Skills like that aren't toys. They're tools, and dangerous ones at that. You're lucky you didn't blow your body apart from the inside."
Lyrium looked away, his jaw tightening.
He knew Victor was right, but hearing it still stung.
Victor's gaze softened slightly. "Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't use what you've got. Just… be smarter about it next time, yeah?"
Lyrium nodded again, his shoulders slumping.
"Yeah. Got it."
Victor turned toward the door, his boots thudding softly against the wooden floor.
"Anyway, if you're planning on sticking around for a while, you might want to get your act together. The new session at Deviant's Academy starts in five days."
Lyrium's head snapped up. "Wait, what?!"
Victor glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't know? Freshman orientation starts in less than a week. And judging by the fact that you don't have a wristband, I'm guessing you're one of the new kids."
Lyrium's mind reeled.
He hadn't even thought about the academy yet, but now that Victor mentioned it, it made sense.
That was where the main story would begin—the place where the protagonist's journey would officially kick off.
Five days.
That wasn't much time.
Victor shrugged. "Well, that's your problem to figure out. You'd better be ready when the time comes." With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Lyrium alone with his thoughts.
---
For a long moment, Lyrium just sat there in silence, his hands clenched into fists.
'One week,' he thought bitterly. 'One week gone, and I didn't even realize it. That bastard protagonist is probably miles ahead of me by now.'
He cursed under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
The protagonist, with his cheat-like system, was the epitome of unfairness.
Lyrium didn't have a system to hand him quests or rewards on a silver platter.
He had to work for every ounce of progress he made.
But he wasn't going to let that stop him.
'Five days,' he thought. 'I still have five days to prepare.'
Taking a deep breath, he pushed his emotions aside and focused.
"Status Window," he muttered.
A familiar screen materialized in front of him, glowing faintly as it displayed his stats.
---
[Status Window]
[Name: Lyrium Blackwood]
[Age: 16]
[Race: Human]
[Rank: D-]
[Talent Limit: Error]
[Skill (Passive): Unknown Lock§]
[Skill: Ruler's Loathing]
⟩ Skill Details: Ruler's Loathing ⟨
• Temporarily heightens instincts, allowing the body to act independently.
• Temporarily suppresses emotions and amplifies intelligence for precise decision-making.
• Focuses entirely on one specific task, ignoring all distractions.
• After activation, user experiences severe mana fluctuations and physical strain.
Duration: 15 Minutes
Aftereffects: 3 Minutes
⟩ Attributes ⟨
Strength: C+
Speed: D-
Agility: D
Stamina: E+
Durability: D+
Intelligence: B+
Instinct: D+
Charm: D
Mana Points: 100/100
---
Lyrium's eyes lingered on his stats for a moment, his expression unreadable.
'Still the same,' he thought. 'No growth, no progress. Not yet.'
But that was about to change.
He had five days before the academy's new session began.
Five days to prepare himself for the challenges ahead.
And there was one thing he needed to acquire before anything else.
"Sword Art," Lyrium muttered, his lips curling into a determined smile. "It's time to get my hands on 'THAT" Sword Art."
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, feeling a newfound resolve settle over him.
The path ahead wouldn't be easy. He knew that.
But he wasn't about to let some cheat protagonist steal the spotlight.
Not this time.
----------
Well—written version guys—!