The book felt heavier in my hands than it should have.
Its leather-bound cover was worn, yet smooth beneath my fingertips. The crimson ink of its single phrase—"Rewrite your fate."—still lingered in my mind, burning itself into my thoughts like an undeniable truth.
I had changed reality.
Even now, the dull ache that once sat in my ribs was completely gone, erased with a single sentence. It wasn't an illusion. It wasn't a dream. This book had power.
But how much?
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edges of the pages.
This was my story. My world. The Imperial Academy was a place where only the strong thrived, where noble heirs and prodigies trampled over the weak. And in this place, I… was nothing.
A nameless extra, just another student in the background of greater people's stories.
If I was going to survive here, I needed to understand exactly what I was dealing with.
I glanced around the hallway, checking to make sure no one was paying attention to me. Students passed by, wrapped up in their own conversations, their laughter and footsteps blending into a constant hum of noise. No one cared about me. No one even looked at me.
Good.
Taking a slow breath, I flipped open the book again, letting my eyes trail over the empty pages. The quill rested beside it, seemingly appearing whenever I needed it.
Testing it wouldn't hurt, right? Just something small. Something insignificant.
I dipped the quill into invisible ink—no, not invisible. It simply had no source. A paradox of a writing tool. But that wasn't important right now.
Carefully, I wrote:
"The air feels warmer."
The moment I lifted the quill, a strange ripple passed through my surroundings. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but I felt it—the slight shift in the atmosphere. The chill that had lingered in the academy halls from the stone walls and towering ceilings faded, replaced with a mild warmth, as if the sun had suddenly decided to shine a little stronger.
I stared at the book, my heart hammering.
It worked again.
My breathing quickened. This was dangerous. If I could change reality this easily… then there were so many possibilities. But there were also so many ways this could go wrong.
I couldn't just experiment carelessly. There had to be rules.
Could I write anything? Were there limits? Consequences?
I needed to test more. But not now. Not here.
I shut the book and tucked it into my uniform, making sure the fabric concealed it completely. If anyone saw me with this, if anyone found out I had this kind of power…
No. I couldn't let that happen.
I took a slow, steadying breath.
First things first—I had to understand who I was in this world.
I didn't have a mirror, but I could feel the difference. This body wasn't my own. My limbs were thinner, my frame weaker. Even the texture of my hair felt slightly off when I brushed my fingers through it.
I needed information.
The academy had a place for that—the student registry. A massive archive that held records of every single student enrolled at the Imperial Academy. If I was going to figure out who I was, that was my best bet.
The only problem? The registry was located in the library tower, and only certain students had unrestricted access.
And judging by how I had just been kicked across the floor like garbage, I highly doubted I was one of them.
Which meant I needed to get in without permission.
I exhaled slowly.
I had written dozens of scenes taking place in that library tower. I knew its structure, its weaknesses. The guards rotated every two hours. The second-floor windows could be pried open from the outside. The old librarian was half-blind in his left eye.
I could do this.
I had to do this.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Nightfall came quicker than expected.
I had spent the remainder of the day blending into the background, observing, listening. I learned that my body's name was Ren Evernight, a low-ranking scholarship student. A nobody.
It was exactly what I feared.
The weak didn't survive in the academy.
There were no rules protecting students from cruelty. There was no system of fairness. The strong reigned supreme, and the weak were nothing more than entertainment for them.
If I wanted to make it through this world, I needed more than just knowledge. I needed power.
And right now, my best chance at getting that was locked inside the student records.
I took a deep breath, staring up at the massive library tower before me. Its windows gleamed under the moonlight, the stone walls stretching impossibly high into the night sky.
The entrance was guarded, just as I remembered. Two men stood at the doors, their expressions unreadable, their weapons resting at their sides. But I wasn't going through the front.
I moved carefully, keeping to the shadows as I made my way around the side of the building. The second-floor windows were just within reach if I climbed the old latticework on the wall.
I placed a hand against the stone. Cold. Sturdy.
Alright. Here goes nothing.
I hoisted myself up.
The metal creaked under my weight, but I kept going, gritting my teeth as I climbed higher. My arms burned. My breath came out in short gasps. This body wasn't used to physical exertion.
But I couldn't stop.
I reached the window, fingers slipping slightly against the glass. Carefully, I wedged my nails under the frame and pushed.
It didn't budge.
I swallowed.
Alright. Time to use the book.
I pulled it out, my fingers moving quickly as I wrote:
"The window unlocks."
The ink shimmered, and then—
Click.
The lock snapped open.
My heart pounded. It worked. Again.
I wasted no time slipping inside, landing softly on the wooden floor. The library stretched before me, rows upon rows of towering bookshelves casting long shadows in the candlelight.
Now… I just had to find the student registry.
I moved quickly, my eyes scanning the shelves, searching for the familiar golden spine of the records.
And then—
A voice cut through the silence.
"You know, breaking into restricted sections is a punishable offense."
I froze.
A figure stepped out from the darkness, their sharp gaze locking onto mine.
Shit.
I had been caught.