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Skyblue_2208

Skyblue_2208

Lv13
2023-11-30 JoinedUnited Nations
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Writing

256.9h

of reading

192

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8
Moments
277

Chronicle Zero

The last thing I remember is a truck's headlights. The first thing I feel is cold earth and the taste of blood that isn't mine. Arthur Reinhart died in this forest a week after passing the Academy entrance exam. A forgotten minor noble, killed by a corrupted wolf, erased from a story that never needed him. I shouldn't be here. In his body. In his life. In a world I only know because I spent too many nights reading a web novel about Lloyd Ashford and his rise to heroism. But here I am. And the story I read is starting. The problem? That story ended with me hitting refresh, waiting for the next chapter. I never saw how it finished. Never learned why the protagonist, who started so likeable, slowly became someone I couldn't stand to read about. Now I'm living alongside him, watching him gather companions and grow stronger, and that same wrongness I felt reading is crawling up my spine in person. I'm not a genius. I don't have a destiny. I'm just trying not to die again. But when the "hero" makes my instincts scream danger, when the plot I know and the reality I'm living start to diverge, when I realise I might be the only person who notices something is broken. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?

Skyblue_2208 · Fantasy
20 Chs