The Antagonist’s Narrator

"After an exhausting battle against his fearless opponent, he finally fell to his knees, the ground cold beneath him. A deep gasp escaped his lips, a release of the tension he had held throughout the fight."

"As silence enveloped the arena, he smiled softly, accepting his fate. Despite the weight of defeat, a sense of relief washed over him; the relentless struggle was finally over, and in that stillness, he embraced the finality of it."

"It seems like this is the end."

"The voice was grasping and drying as the blood came out from the mouth, trying to speak clearly. Lawrence looked down at his opponent, who had slumped into a crumpled heap on the ground."

"There wasn't much life left in his eyes anymore, but they still shone like stars, despite all that. His gaze was clear but distant."

"Any words to say?"

"Lawrence stood over the man, his heart a cold stone. Today marked the end of a relentless adversary who had blocked his every path and shattered his world by taking those he loved. As the man writhed in defeat, Lawrence felt a grim satisfaction."

"This slow, painful death was a fitting retribution, a reflection of the suffering he had caused. Years of struggle had culminated in this moment, and now, finally, his enemy was paying the price for the destruction he had wrought."

"You killed many people for power, and now I will kill you to avenge the people you killed."

"When he finally spoke, his words dripping with venomous intent gripping the hilt of his sword tightened, knuckles paling as he summoned every ounce of resolve within."

"He raised his hand toward the villain, the world around him fading into a blur as unshed tears welled in his eyes, obscuring the figure before him."

"...."

"The villain remained shrouded in a moment of oppressive silence, an unsettling stillness hanging heavily in the air, until at last, he broke the tension with a voice that cut through the atmosphere like a blade."

"The real end... has only just begun."

Honk!—

The sharp blast of the train's horn ripped through the air, jolting Shin from his thoughts.

Shin blinked rapidly, the novel he had been immersed in slipping from his hands as the conductor's voice followed.

"Arriving at C3 Station. Please proceed to exit onto platform 3."

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks grounded him back to reality. The world beyond the window felt distant, as though the dreamlike intensity of the novel had yet to release him.

Shin's eyes narrowed slightly. That page… it's different from what I remember.

Shaking his head, he stood, slinging his bag over one shoulder as his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, seeing his department manager's name flash across it.

"Hi, sorry, I just got back to my place," Shin said quickly, dodging the crowd as he exited the train. "I'll submit the project as soon as I get home."

The manager's curt response left Shin sighing as he hung up. The sun bore down mercilessly as he hurried toward the quieter side streets where his apartment awaited.

Shin worked in a government research lab, building futuristic devices to help people survive harsh conditions. It paid the bills, but the long hours left little time for anything else—even visiting his grandfather, the man who had raised him.

The project that was supposed to be due tomorrow morning hasn't been submitted yet because my grandpa asked me to clean his apartment and bring some things to my place in the meantime.

The sky darkened further and the temperature dropped dramatically, causing the sweat gathering in Shin's palms to bead up even more as he hurried down the sidewalk, his hands stuffed uncomfortably in his pockets.

It was Friday, yet it felt unmistakably like a Monday. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. The image of his unfinished project, a looming shadow, cast a pall over his supposed day off. He could almost feel the weight of his manager's disapproval pressing down on him.

It made him wonder how long he'd have to work in the office to finish cleaning the apartment properly. It didn't seem fair to spend hours away from home, and he already missed the familiar comfort of living alone.

He changed his direction from the main street to the small side streets where he lived.

His house was located on one of them, nestled between a restaurant and a bakery. Though he lived alone most of the year, he enjoyed having someone nearby.

Listening to the sound of a busy street as the neighbourhood bustled with activity, while also having someone to talk to was nice too.

Click—

Shin opens the door and steps inside his apartment, switching on the lights. Everything was spotless as expected, save for a few stray papers that he'd have to take care of soon. He put all his things on the table before going to the living room.

Clicking on the switchboard to light up the room, he set about cleaning up the messes that he left in the living room before leaving for work later that morning.

He found himself wondering what the old man was up to now. What could that old man be up to?

He thought with a frown. He had promised him that he would come visit every day, but due to being overworked in the office and lack of sleep, he had barely made it. Now that the week was coming to an end he was feeling guilty.

After all, he wasn't exactly wealthy, and he doubted he ever would be.

As he tidied up, his eye caught the book lying next to him. It had fallen face up when he'd taken it out earlier, the cover facing toward him. He picked up the book and saw the title imprinted on the cover:

The Seventh War

Is none other than the novel he found in his grandpa's bookshelf. The one that reminded him of the old vivid dreams of his childhood memories. It is the story of a young main character, Lawrence Hill, who begins his journey when the antagonist destroys and kills his family, who is under the control of the villain.

Lawrence trains and travels far, gaining followers and friends who help him defeat the villain.

It had been a long time since he last laid eyes on this book.

It was the book that his grandfather had read to him during his childhood. Since he was a lost child, only the old man took care of him, making him not worry about seeing his parents again.

The book was one that he'd always liked to read back when he was young, But when his parents found him they took Shin away from his grandparents and brought him back to their home to live with them.

My grandfather was left alone after my parents took me away to live with them and my siblings. Yet, I still longed to stay by that cozy, warm fireplace, rereading the novel with him.

Shin promised to visit him every day to take care of him, and it was also the day that everything changed for him.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he traced the embossed letters on the cover. The familiar scent of old paper and ink, a ghost of childhood summers spent curled up on his grandfather's lap, filled his senses.

He remembered the warmth of the old man's voice, the comforting rhythm of his storytelling, as he read aloud from the very same book.

Flop—

Sitting down in his chair next to the open glass window. He flipped through it, and he recalled something odd after reading it again. It was the same feeling when he reread it at his grandpa's apartment.

At first, he ignored it, believing that it was something insignificant, but the more he read the text on the page, the more he began to realise it was different than how he remembered it. The words felt wrong somehow.

"Maybe it's just because it's been so long since I last read the plot…"

Shin muttered absently, running a hand through his hair distractedly as he continued to read. The words on the page blurred together, and eventually, he stopped reading altogether. His thoughts trailed off as he stared blankly at nothing in particular.

He turns to the side of his computer and clicks on the file where his project is currently laid out. His fingers hovered over the mouse as his eyes roamed around the files in front of him. He closed his eyes and leaned against the chair slightly.

He had never given this matter much consideration until now, but looking at the current situation, it seems like it won't be possible to finish the project before the deadline.

Nonetheless, he needed to finish his work as soon as possible. If he finishes his work, then he can visit Grandpa, which will be a nice distraction.

After finishing it, he took a deep breath; he exhaled deeply before leaning against the chair once more and opening his eyes.

His mind felt scattered, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling within him. The weight of the unfinished project, the guilt of neglecting his grandfather, and the unsettling premonition of something unknown all collided, leaving him feeling disoriented and adrift.

A chilling thought crept into his mind. Was he losing his grip on reality? Was this a fleeting memory, a figment of his imagination, or something more sinister?

Shin glanced at the book resting beside him, staring down at it with an almost vacant look in his eyes—his gaze distant as the sun finally went down slowly the horizon turned deep red glowing in the distance.

The red glowing light slowly covered Shin's view as if it was going to swallow him whole and engulf everything in sight.

He could feel the hot air surrounding him, and the smell of burning wood and ashes filling his nose.

Panic clawed at his throat, leaving him gasping for air. He tried to scream, to move, but his body was frozen, paralyzed by an unseen force.

Only his eyes darted frantically, desperate to break free from the suffocating grip of the unknown.

"...—!!!"

Then he could hear voices calling from somewhere that he couldn't hear clearly as he tried to breathe normally.

They grew closer, he thought to himself before fading into darkness. Then a hand held onto him firmly, shaking him awake.

"***!—"

"Wake up—"