Laughter erupted, shaking the void itself.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!" The Narrator's voice boomed as it pointed mockingly at the struggling manga character. It had taken on a feminine form its smirk wide, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Look at you. Useless. Weak. Broken. AND PATHETIC. You were already pathetic when I made you, and now? Now you're nothing but a crippled mess!"
The man, panting, forced himself up, his body trembling. His powers gone. His ability to rewrite reality erased. Zephyra had stripped him of everything with a single, effortless motion. Now, he was no different from a discarded sketch on torn paper.
"You... YOU BASTARD!!" he roared, his voice raw with fury. "WHY?! WHY DID YOU CREATE ME LIKE THIS?! WHY DID YOU-"
"𐬀𐬎𐬱𐬙𐬀 𐬐𐬭𐬀𐬨𐬀." the Narrator chanted, its tone dripping with finality.
His arms and legs vanished instantly, erased from existence like ink wiped clean from a page. He collapsed, a grotesque, limbless husk. His breathing turned erratic, his eyes wide in horror as he realized he was powerless.
The Narrator giggled, stepping forward, towering over him. It raised a single finger, pressing it against his chest.
CRACK.
A sudden, invisible force speared through him, pinning him against the endless void. He gasped, his mouth opening in silent agony. Blood trickled down as an unseen lance impaled him into the dark abyss. He struggled, his head lolling as his vision blurred.
"Pathetic."
the Narrator whispered, grinning. "You wanted answers. didn't you?"
His breath hitched, his rage still boiling beneath his pain.
"Why… did you make that fucking story, a FUCKING HORRIFYING STORY FILLED WITH MULTIPLE STORIES OF DIFFERENT KINDS OF ART STYLE!?" His voice cracked. "Why… no.. HOW is Nightmare Zero real? SHE'S NOT FICTION! SHE'S A REAL PERSON!!"
The Narrator clicked its tongue, crouching beside him with a cold glare. "Ohhh.. but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Just handing you answers. Where's the fun in that?" It grinned wider, tapping his forehead. "Besides.. do you really think you deserve to know?"
The man let out a strangled, rage-filled cry. "DO YOU EVEN FUCKING KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN YOU PUT ME THROUGH?!" His voice was raw, desperate, broken.
"DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TRAUMA HOW MUCH HELL YOU PUT EVERYONE THROUGH?!" His teeth gnashed as tears mixed with his blood.
The Narrator's expression didn't change. It only chuckled, leaning closer. "Oh. I know. I know exactly what I did. I know the chaos. The destruction. The despair. But do you think I care?" It tilted its head, a cruel glimmer in its eyes. "Because I don't."
Zephyra, still seated calmly on a floating platform, hummed as she continued doodling on a piece of paper. She was unbothered, completely detached from the torment unfolding before her. The Narrator ruffled her white hair with affection before turning back to the battered man.
"You're just a character." it continued, voice dripping with amusement. "A discarded idea. A failed experiment. I made you. And now, I'll unmake you."
The man's breath was ragged, his body trembling as his wounds rewrote themselves his limbs returning, only to be erased again a second later.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He screamed. The endless cycle of restoration and obliteration shattered his mind. His very existence was a plaything in the Narrator's grasp. It was absolute.
The void around them rippled, the air thick with suffocating power. The man gasped for breath, his voice hoarse from his own agony. He had no more words only the shattered remains of his sanity.
The Narrator sighed dramatically, stretching. "I'm bored now."
With a snap of its fingers.
He ceased to exist.
No trace remained. No blood. No body. No memory.
The Narrator smirked, stepping back. "Well. That was short-lived." It dusted off its hands, glancing toward the audience the unseen viewers beyond the screen.
"Soooo… let's go back to Nightmare Zero, shall we?"
It snapped its fingers.
The screen flickered.
Bang.
A body crumpled.
Another bang.
Another fell.
Nightmare Zero moved through the neon-lit streets, her black sniper rifle raised, the smoking barrel shifting effortlessly to her next target. Silent. Precise. Unstoppable.
A cigarette smoldered between her lips, faint embers glowing in the darkness. Her black gloves, infused with magic, deflected weak spells as she walked forward, unfazed by the chaos around her.
She shot down protagonists.
She eliminated villains.
She wiped out side characters.
No hesitation. No remorse.
Nightmare Zero was a walking extinction.
The city was drenched in red.
Above, perched on a rooftop, golden eyes watched her. The Korean swordsman the one who had left her battle stood still, his expression dark.
"이건... 불가능해요" (This is… impossible.) he murmured, watching her cut down everything in her path. His hands clenched.
She wasn't fiction anymore.
She was no... She IS real.
And that was the true horror.
To be continued.