My heart raced as I stared at the glowing text, my eyes darting across the page, desperate to make sense of it all.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the book stilled.
...fuckk!!
I reached out, my fingers trembling as they grazed the edge of the page. The words shifted as I focused on them, their forms blurring and reforming like mist caught in a breeze.
My head throbbed in protest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.
"What… what is this?" I whispered, my voice hoarse.
I couldn't read most of it. The symbols were foreign, their meanings just out of reach, like trying to recall a half-forgotten dream. But then—
There.
A word emerged, clear as day amidst the chaos.
Hero.
The word burned itself into my mind, filling me with a strange mix of dread and confusion.
My throat tightened as I read it over and over, the letters glowing brighter every time my eyes passed over them.
Hero?
What the hell was this supposed to mean?
I forced myself to focus, my vision narrowing to the words just below.
More symbols twisted and reformed, until another name came into view:
Azazel Dafnerr.
I froze. That name—it sparked something in my memory, something distant but undeniable.
I knew it, or at least I thought I did. My stomach churned, twisting like I had some century-old discord with this guy.
I scanned further, desperation clawing at my insides as the text shifted again.
The next words leapt out at me like a slap to the face:
Orphaned child.
My chest tightened, breath catching as the room seemed to grow colder.
My fingers dug into the edge of the table as I leaned forward, eyes glued to the page.
Then I saw it.
My name.
Noah Romero.
The Fated Villain.
My heart stopped.
The blood in my veins froze, every fibre of my being screamed at me to look away.
But I couldn't.
I was trapped, my gaze locked on those two words as if they'd been written in fire.
How... how is my name in here?
No. More like why was my name over the fated villain?
It couldn't be??
Right—
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to flip the page again, even as my hands shook and my breath came in shallow gasps.
The text shifted again, forming an image in my mind as I read. The setting was vivid, almost tangible:
An academy.
I could see it clearly—a sprawling campus with towering buildings, bustling courtyards, and endless corridors.
Students migled with each other, about, their voices fading into a mix of laughter, whispers, and shouted commands.
And there, among them, was me.
Noah Romero.
The words painted a brutal picture, one that hit far too close to home.
Bullied.
Weak.
A coward.
My heart pounded in my chest as scenes unfolded in my mind like a twisted film reel.
More and more words started appearing related to me and about how I had turned to the dark side.
'Fuck… was this really me?' I questioned.
My hair was described more messy than usual, my eyes used to shine purple like the stars and I had become way stronger.
But then I realised the reason of this sudden change.
An attack on our house.
My Gr-grandma…She was killed.
Fuck. No.
Anger boiled up to the top of my lungs as I forced myself to read faster.
An assassination?
No.
A test? Maybe?
Ughhh
I tried all I had to focus on the blurred out words so I can read clearer.
A dozen minutes passed as I continued skimming through the pages in a frenzy.
The more I read.. the crazier it got—
The words described me with cruel precision, capturing every detail about me.
It was too real.
Too familiar.
"No," I muttered, shaking my head. "No, this isn't... this can't be—"
My eyes darted back to the pages, desperate for some kind of explanation.
How did it know?
How could this book possibly know these things about me?
My knees buckled, and I fell into the chair behind me as my breathing turned more and more shallow.
This isn't real. It can't be real.
But the words wouldn't let me go. They clawed at my mind, pulling me deeper into their madness.
And then I remembered it.
The first sentence of the book.
Your world is but a fiction novel.
I froze, my entire body going cold.
The sentence repeated itself in my mind, over and over, until it drowned out everything else.
Your world is but a fiction novel.
"No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "No, that's impossible. This is... this is insane."
But the words were there, staring back at me like a cruel joke.
It's a fantasy.
My hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white as I fought to steady myself.
The room seemed to close in on me, the air growing thick and oppressive.
My vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges as the weight of the book's revelation pressed down on me.
"It's lying," I said, my voice rising as panic took hold. "It has to be lying. This... this is just some kind of sick joke!"
But deep down, I knew better.
The names. The academy. The events.
Everything in the book—it was too familiar, too specific to be coincidence.
I leaned back in the chair, my head tilting toward the ceiling as I let out a shaky breath. My face felt pale, my skin sticky with sweat as the gravity of the situation settled over me.
What does this mean?
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
The words lingered in my head, and their
weight was crushing.
For the first time in my life, I cared whether the world I lived in was a fantasy or not.
Because deep down in my heart,
I understood.
The fact that I was going to be the fucking Villain of this so called 'Story'.
***