A soft humming sound filled the darkened room. The only source of light came from the computer screen, whose dim bluish light illuminated the haggard face of a 27-year-old man. His hunched back, tense fingers on the keyboard, and ragged breathing were silent witnesses to a rage that burned beyond reason.
On the screen, the forums were exploding:
- #AuthorTraition - You ruined our lives, you bastard. - How disgusting! How could it degenerate like this? - Was this a romantic harem? No more!
The young man swallowed, gritting his teeth. On his desk were merchandise from the series: limited edition figurines, posters, light novels neatly lined up. He had been one of the first to discover the web novel. He had championed the story when it was still unknown, recommended it, lived it.
A story set in a magical academy for nobles. A gem of the isekai genre. A sweet if somewhat dense protagonist, pure and strong heroines, comic moments, spectacular combats. A dream made history. Until the author decided to destroy it all.
The new volume had just come out that morning. He, like many, bought it on pre-sale. He read it without pause, until he came to that scene.
The secondary villain. The one who was just a thug without glory.
He murders the main villain. Then, with a maniacal, sinister laugh, he kidnaps the main heroine, the protagonist's sister, the main villain's fiancée, and even his own sister. He uses a grotesque ability, "Dominion". And then... tragedy.
The volume ended with an implicit but clear description of what he had done in that office.
The young man could not finish reading it. He threw it down in fury, covered his face with his hands, and wept. Not because of the story. But for the girls. For the crime against something he had loved.
And then, after an indeterminate amount of time.
A video surfaced.
A crowd. A street at night. A man being mercilessly beaten. Voices screaming in tears. It was the author. It was not a fictional scene. It was real. Someone had recorded it.
He didn't know whether to be satisfied or even more disturbed. Was that justice? Revenge?
But what happened next was even more disconcerting.
He paused. He stepped back. Moved forward. Looked again.
The perpetrator, bloodied on the floor, looked into the camera. No. He looked at him.
And he moved his lips. Slowly, but deliberately.
"You... now... will... be..."
"What...?"
A sudden darkness. A high-pitched whistle. A deep emptiness.
And then, the sound of a drip.
A thick, metallic smell, and something else he couldn't identify. His skin prickled. He was lying on something hard and cold. A desk.
He opened his eyes.
A lamp hung from the ceiling, shaking slightly. I was in an elegant, old-fashioned office. Fine wood. Thick books. Velvet curtains. The headmaster's office. I recognised it.
And then, I panic.
In front of him, a girl's silver hair lay on the desk. Her dress was in disarray. Tears dried on her face. The other three figures, one with jet-black hair, one auburn, and the last with blonde curls, lay on the floor, their clothes torn, their bodies covered by well-timed shadows. I didn't need details to understand what must have happened there.
-No... it can't be..."
He crawled backwards. His body felt different. He looked up at a window.
His reflection.
It wasn't his face. It was him. The villain. The monster. The one who destroyed everything.
-It wasn't me! IT WASN'T ME!"
It hit the ground. It broke.
-Why... why did they bring me in just now? Why at this bloody scene?!"
The lamp was swinging. Tears mingled with sweat. Her heart was beating like an incessant alarm.
He had been thrown into his worst nightmare.
And the story was just beginning.