The forest was shrouded in mist, its trees looming like silent sentinels. Felix walked through it, his steps unnaturally steady. The atmosphere was eerie yet strangely comforting, as though the forest itself recognized him. The faint scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air. He didn't know why, but this place felt familiar.
The path twisted and turned, leading him uphill. He climbed effortlessly, though he didn't know how long he'd been walking. Hours? Days? Time felt meaningless here. Despite the journey, he wasn't tired—not in the slightest.
At the center of the forest, he reached a clearing. There, standing alone like an altar, was a rock. It was dark red, almost black, and it shimmered faintly, as if alive.
The rock called to him. Not with words, but with a pull that was undeniable. Felix approached cautiously, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch its surface.
The moment his fingers made contact, something happened. Symbols—alien characters, letters, and runes—burst forth from the rock, clinging to his body like living fire. They burned, not with pain but with an overwhelming intensity.
He gasped, and the world around him dissolved.
Felix jolted awake, his breath ragged, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared at the cracked ceiling of his tiny apartment, the faint hum of the city outside grounding him in reality. The dream again. It was always the same—walking through the forest, reaching the rock, and the runes.
It had been weeks now. The same dream, night after night, as if it were trying to tell him something. He didn't know what it meant, but the sensation lingered even after he woke, leaving him unsettled.
Felix swung his legs off the bed and rubbed his face. The clock on his nightstand read 3:42 AM. Too early to start the day, but he wouldn't be getting any more sleep.
He sighed and shuffled to his desk, which was cluttered with coffee-stained papers, old notebooks, and his laptop. The glow of the screen illuminated his weary face as he checked his emails. Today was the big day.
Felix Morgan, part-time IT engineer and struggling freelancer, had somehow caught the attention of the tech world's biggest players. His software—a simple yet ingenious program that streamlined data analysis—had gone viral in niche forums. Within weeks, he was fielding calls from companies he'd only dreamed of working with.
Today, he had a meeting with one of them. It was the kind of opportunity that could change his life, pulling him out of the paycheck-to-paycheck grind he'd been stuck in since college.
Felix looked around his tiny apartment. The peeling wallpaper, the second-hand furniture, the leaky faucet in the kitchen—he'd lived in worse, but this was far from the life he wanted. He'd grown up in foster care, bouncing from home to home, always feeling like a burden. His childhood had been a series of closed doors and missed chances, and he'd learned early on not to expect help from anyone.
The only solace he'd ever found was in the stories he read on his tablet—web novels about underdogs who rose to greatness, people who fought against impossible odds and emerged victorious. Those stories had given him hope when nothing else did.
Felix stared at the screen of his laptop, his mind drifting back to the dream. That rock, those symbols... what did they mean? Why did they feel so real?
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. "One step at a time," he muttered to himself.
For now, he had a meeting to prepare for. The dream, whatever it was, could wait.
Felix sat on the train, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels beneath him almost hypnotic as the cityscape blurred past the window. His mind, however, was elsewhere. He had a meeting to attend—one that could change everything for him—but he wasn't thinking about the software he'd created or the potential deals waiting for him.
Instead, his thoughts wandered back to the world he'd left behind, the world of The Chronicles of Kaeron, a web novel he'd been obsessively reading for weeks. It had consumed his mind, like a quiet itch he couldn't scratch. He had been in a deep dive, finishing chapter after chapter as he rode the subway to work or sat at his cluttered desk, feeling like he could never get enough of it.
But there was one character in the novel he couldn't get behind: Sylas Vane, the wealthy and impossibly charming playboy who was as much of a force of nature as he was a stain on the story's integrity.
Felix pulled out his tablet and navigated to the latest chapter. He couldn't help himself; it was a compulsion, like checking a wound to see if it still hurt. The latest exploits of Sylas were as infuriating as ever—yet another string of debauchery and casual cruelty disguised as heroism.
Felix clicked his tongue in annoyance, skimming the page with a frown. "Of course, Sylas gets away with it again," he muttered under his breath, the words escaping as though he were speaking to someone. "Charming, powerful, and a total ass. How is this the character everyone worships?"
He shook his head as he continued reading, the story painting Sylas as an irresistible figure. Women threw themselves at him, and his wealth seemed to grow exponentially without any real effort. Yet, beneath it all, Felix saw a hollow, narcissistic man who never once questioned his actions or their consequences. The bastard had fathered hundreds of children, abandoning them all without a second thought, as though they were nothing more than trophies to be discarded.
Felix scrolled down, his fingers moving rapidly. "Who even cares about these kids?" he scoffed. "This guy's a parasite. I don't care how powerful he is. I don't care how good-looking he is. This is the kind of character that makes people think being a douchebag is a personality trait. Just... gross."
He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Felix couldn't understand why so many fans loved Sylas. Was it the charm? The power? Or was it just that people liked to idolize characters who didn't have to work for anything?
"It's like everyone wants to be him or be with him. But what's the point?" Felix sighed, staring out the window as the city flashed by. "Where's the challenge? Where's the struggle? He just... gets everything handed to him."
His mind wandered back to his own life—the life of someone who didn't have everything handed to him. Felix had never known luxury, never known a life of carefree indulgence. He'd fought for every opportunity he'd ever gotten. His software, the one that had finally caught the attention of tech giants, was the culmination of years of work, frustration, and loneliness. It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't effortless. But it was his.
"That's what matters," he muttered, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. "What you build, not what's given to you."
As the train rattled on, Felix's gaze shifted back to the screen. He clicked on the next chapter, hoping to find something—anything—that would redeem the mess that was Sylas Vane. But, as usual, the character continued to live in a bubble of wealth and power, oblivious to the damage he caused. Felix's disdain only deepened.
"Heroes don't get to skip the consequences," he grumbled, the words almost an affirmation to himself. "They don't get to act like they're untouchable just because they're born lucky. There's no real heroism in that."
He closed the tablet with a snap, leaning back against the seat as the train pulled into his stop.
The train's arrival was his cue. He stood up, gathering his things, his thoughts still swirling with a mixture of anger and determination.
"Maybe the world doesn't need another Sylas Vane," he muttered under his breath, his lips curling into a wry smile. "Maybe it needs someone who actually earned their place."
As he exited the train and stepped into the bustling city streets, Felix couldn't shake the feeling that his life was about to change in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.
Felix stepped out of the five-star hotel, his heart still racing from the whirlwind meeting. The deal had gone through—his software had been accepted, the terms were finalised, and he was now a half-billionaire. But the news felt like it was happening to someone else. He walked down the hotel steps, the world around him feeling both surreal and hollow. His mind was numb, and despite the excitement of the moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
The cold hit him immediately, a gust of wind carrying snowflakes that stung his face. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, but it didn't help much against the bitter chill. The streets were crowded with people celebrating the New Year, their laughter and chatter floating in the air, but Felix couldn't join in. His eyes drifted to the ground, and his thoughts remained distant. The weight of the deal, the money, the success—none of it seemed to matter at the moment.
He had always dreamed of this—dreamed of breaking free from his lonely existence and making something of himself. Yet, standing there in the midst of the celebration, Felix couldn't find the joy he thought would come with it. The world felt colder than it ever had, and it wasn't just the weather. It was as if everything he'd worked for had led to this—an emptiness he couldn't quite fill.
As he walked through the crowded streets, the sound of fireworks in the distance barely registered. Felix's mind was elsewhere. He wasn't even sure where he was going. He had been so focused on the future, so obsessed with making his software work, that he'd forgotten about everything else. He'd forgotten that it was New Year's Eve, forgotten the warmth of human connection, forgotten the life he'd left behind.
Suddenly, a scream cut through the night air, snapping Felix back to reality. Without thinking, his instincts kicked in. He turned, searching for the source of the sound. His eyes landed on a woman, struggling against two men who were trying to drag her into an alley. Felix's heart raced, and before he could fully process what he was doing, he was already running toward them.
"Hey!" Felix shouted, adrenaline surging through him. He wasn't a fighter, wasn't built for physical confrontations, but something inside him snapped. He couldn't stand by while someone else suffered.
The men paused for a moment, surprised by his interruption, but then one of them swung a fist at Felix. The punch connected, sending him stumbling backwards. Pain shot through his body, but Felix gritted his teeth and kept moving. He reached out, grabbing the arm of one of the attackers, trying to force them off the woman.
But he wasn't strong enough. The man broke free and shoved him to the ground, the impact knocking the breath out of him. Felix tried to push himself up, but his vision blurred, his strength fading. The world seemed to slow as the sounds around him became muffled.
He saw the woman, her face terrified but grateful, and for a moment, he felt a sense of purpose. He'd done something good, something right. But then, as he lay there on the cold, wet pavement, he felt the familiar tingling sensation—the one that had haunted him in his dreams, that strange, fiery feeling. His body convulsed once, then went still.
The cold took over, and his vision faded. The last thing he saw was the woman's face, her expression filled with gratitude and fear.
Felix Morgan, the software engineer was gone. His life, cut short by a single act of courage, ended in the cold streets of New York City on New Year's Eve. The snow fell softly, covering his lifeless body as if the world had never known him at all.