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Master Of My Universe: The Author Who Became the Hero's System

You can have a chat with me on discord. https://discord.gg/MgVng8Fh Mark Eisner is the greatest example of a failure. Unable to get his dream job, he resorts to writing a story, a story close to his heart, a story in which he expressed himself to the fullest. It was the delusional universe he created for himself. Unable to grasp the attention of readers, his book was deemed a failure as well. Heartbroken after suffering his crushing fate, Mark commits suicide, uttering his last words; proclaiming the end of his story. But was this the end of his story? Hell Nah! He is far from being dead. He finds himself, astonishingly, still possessing his consciousness, even though his existence is formless. What he then sees is unbelievable. The hero he created, the hero "he only" loved, the hero that reflected himself... His own protagonist. Reincarnated as the system of the hero of his own novel, Mark undergoes an epic journey with his unanticipated creation, helping him throughout, knowing all about his predicaments. There are a few rules to him - 1. RELAY ONLY REQUIRED MESSAGE TO THE PLAYER 2. DROP DESIGNATED REWARDS 3. EXPEL THE PLAYER IF PLAUSIBILITY REACHES LIMITS But.... Is that all? Does he really thinks events will take place just as he layed them? . . . Is he really that Omniscient ? Is he the only one.... . . .

Adwit_ojha · Fantasie
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55 Chs

A Successful Attempt

It was a tense five minutes. Remirg Kryptos had been eyeing both the pots so attentively that he almost forgot to blink. SN1 and SN2 have been hovering satisfactorily for almost two minutes, a feat he had never achieved before, thanks to his blissful ignorance towards runes.

Three minutes into the counting, Remirg was sweating profusely as time started slowing down for him. Each passing second felt like a whole minute. Nevertheless, he still had his gaze fixed upon the shriveled pieces of flying pottery.

Four minutes into the counting, Remirg got the feeling that this much time was more than enough. It was no less than an endeavor for him. But still, SN1 and SN2 were clinging on the imaginary string lying in an invisible plane, fixed rigidly into the fabric of air.