Chapter 1 - Proof of my love
Vincent sat on the worn, weathered chair, his gaze distant as he was seemingly lost in thought. The soft knock on the door interrupted his train of thought, but it didn't surprise him. He had been expecting it.
"Come in." He bade softly.
The door opened with a soft click, and a man in a crisp, professional suit stepped inside, his posture straight, his demeanor sharp and collected. The man radiated confidence the kind of confidence that comes from years of navigating high-stakes deals and negotiations.
"Good afternoon, Mr Wayne." The lawyer, Jackson Barrett, greeted, extending his hand with a polished smile. "As requested, I'm here with the documents."
Vincent, who had been lost in his memories just moments ago, stood up slowly. His movements were calm, unhurried, almost too casual given the gravity of the situation. He shook Jackson's hand briefly, the faint smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes.
"Hello, Mr Barrett. So the documents are ready?" He asked, his voice steady, betraying none of the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
"They are." Jackson replied, hesitating for a moment. He looked at Vincent as if trying to gauge whether this man before him could possibly be serious about what he was about to do. "But… Mr Wayne, are you sure about this? It's highly unusual. Cutting all ties with your family, your property, everything.
You're relinquishing everything you've worked for, everything you've inherited. I don't know much about your family dynamics, but…"
Jackson paused, clearly uncomfortable. "As your lawyer, I would strongly advise that you reconsider. You could at least take a portion of the property, or some shares of the company. Something to secure your future." His tone softened, as if he were genuinely concerned. "This isn't something you can easily undo."
Vincent let out a small, almost tired laugh, the sound echoing hollowly in the quiet room. "I've thought about this long enough, Mr Barrett. I know what I'm doing."
"But…" His voice wavered as he swallowed hard, clearly torn between his professional obligations and his moral compass. "You're cutting yourself off completely. I just don't understand."
"And that's fine. I just want a clean break. Did you speak to my mother about this?"
Jackson shook his head quickly. "No. As you've requested, I've kept everything confidential. Your mother and sisters don't know anything about this matter. I've prepared the documents, but they haven't seen them yet. You told me to wait for your signal."
"Good." Vincent said. He turned toward the table, his gaze falling on the stack of papers that Jackson had just pulled from his briefcase. One by one, Jackson laid the papers out on the table, meticulously arranging them for Vincent to review. The documents were thick, filled with legal jargon and clauses, all designed to sever Vincent's ties with his family. It was more than just signing away his inheritance it was a final act of departure.
A farewell.
Vincent glanced at the papers briefly, his eyes scanning over the fine print. He didn't linger too long on the words. He didn't need to. He knew what they meant. Without hesitation, without a flicker of regret, he picked up the pen and signed. His hand moved fluidly, almost mechanically, as if the act of signing away his life had become routine.
"Now, sister-dearest…" Vincent thought to himself as the pen glided over the paper. "… you don't have to worry anymore. You won't have to fight me for the property or the company shares. You can have it all. You should be satisfied now, shouldn't you?"
As he signed the final document, he leaned back slightly, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over him. He had never cared for the wealth or the company, despite what his sister had always believed. She had misunderstood him from the start, assuming that his distance and their strained relationship had stemmed from a rivalry over inheritance. But that had never been the case.
Vincent had never wanted any of it. He had held on only because he thought it might bring them closer somehow, that maybe holding onto the family name and the company would keep him tethered to the people he loved.
But now… he was letting it all go.
"It's done." Vincent said, sliding the papers back toward Jackson, his expression unreadable. "You can leave now. As for when to give them to my mother and sister, do it tomorrow, if you have the time."
Jackson stared at the papers, then back at Vincent, his brow furrowed. It was surreal. The man who had just signed away his fortune, his future, was smiling. How could he be so calm? How could he smile after signing away billions of dollars?
"I-I'll do that, Mr Wayne." Jackson stammered, still grappling with the strangeness of it all. "But… are you sure there's nothing else? Any final words you'd like me to pass along to your family? A reason for this?"
Vincent paused, his hand resting on the back of his chair. The question lingered in the air for a moment, and then, slowly, he rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. A smile, faint and distant, tugged at his lips.
"Final words? That's an interesting question." He tilted his head, as though considering the weight of Jackson's inquiry. "Tell them… goodbye. I tried my best. Tell my sister that I was never after the property nor the company. Tell them that I'm tired. I can't do it anymore. But, tell them that I hope that my absence could give them peace that my love couldn't." He chuckled, a painful sound in Jackson's opinion. "I wonder if they'll even care enough to ask you why I did it."
Jackson blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the depth of what Vincent had just said. The lawyer was sharp, he could sense the layers of pain beneath Vincent's words, though he didn't fully understand the history behind them.
"Mr Wayne, may I ask you one more question?" Jackson asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He hesitated, not wanting to overstep, but something about this entire situation felt off. He needed to know more.
Vincent raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sure. What's on your mind, Mr Barrett?"
"I won't ask why you threw away billions of dollars. That's your personal decision, and I'll respect that." Jackson began carefully. "But… why did you call me here to a hospital? You don't seem to be injured or ill. Is there something I'm missing?"
Vincent's smile widened slightly, a hint of mischief flickering in his eyes. "Ah, that. Well… that's a secret."
Jackson shifted uncomfortably, sensing that whatever Vincent was hiding was far more significant than he was letting on. "I see. Well, I apologize for any inconvenience, Mr Wayne. I'll present these documents tomorrow, as you've requested."
With that, Jackson walked out of the room, his mind swirling with thoughts. He had just witnessed something extraordinary: a billionaire walking away from everything, choosing homelessness over wealth, and all with a smile on his face. It was, without a doubt, the most bizarre day of his career. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more to Vincent's story than he would ever know.
Once Jackson was gone, Vincent remained standing in the quiet room, his hands resting in his pockets. He felt lighter now, as if signing those papers had lifted a heavy burden off his shoulders. The weight of expectations, the suffocating pull of his family's name, it was all gone. He was free.
But there was still one more thing left to do. Vincent pulled out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly as he pulled up a contact. He waited only a few moments before a voice answered on the other end.
"Hello, Doctor. I'm ready. Let's go ahead with it."
There was a long pause, the voice on the other end hesitating. "Are you sure about this, Mr Wayne? We'll need your signature, and even though you're volunteering, we cannot legally proceed without your written consent. I could be held accountable."
"Don't worry, Doctor. I won't be unreasonable. Bring the papers, and I'll sign them. Everything will be legal. No need to panic." Vincent calmly assured.
After the call ended, Vincent stood still for a moment, the phone still clutched in his hand. The room was silent, but inside his mind, a storm was brewing. He was calm on the surface, outwardly collected, but the turmoil inside him was relentless. He'd just signed away his life, his wealth, his ties to his family everything that had once defined who he was. And now, there was one last thing left to give.
His heart.
He put the phone back in his pocket and stared at the ceiling for a moment, his mind drifting to the task that lay ahead. His final task. The one that he had convinced himself would bring him peace. The one that would finally prove to her that his love was real. He had nothing left to offer, nothing else to give.
His heart, shattered and bruised, was the only thing left, and he would give it willingly.
His lips twisted into a sad smile, a mix of resignation and madness. He knew it was crazy, absurd even, but that didn't matter anymore. It wasn't about what was rational. It wasn't about what made sense. It was about proving, for the last time, that he loved her.
Of course, she didn't know. She didn't need to know. After all, she was rich and powerful. She could have easily gotten another heart for her transplant. She had the connections, the influence to make it happen. But Vincent had made sure the doctor knew he would donate his heart, and no one else's.
It was the ultimate, final act of love. A self-sacrifice, a gesture so grand it couldn't be ignored. He didn't expect her to understand it. He didn't even expect her to care. But in his mind, this was the only way he could finally prove it. That his love for her was real. That it had always been real. Even if she had never felt the same, even if she had rejected him only god knows how many times , he could still give her something no one else could.
As he stood there, his mind raced with memories of her. The girl he had loved for so long, the girl who had been his light in the darkness, even if she never knew it. He could picture her face so clearly in his mind, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, the way her laughter echoed in the hallways of their school.
She had always been so out of reach, so distant, even when she was standing right next to him.
He chuckled softly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "What a fucking joke. Even now, after everything, I'm still doing this for her. I couldn't win her love, but I can give her my heart."
A voice echoed in his mind, sounding just like Tony Stark's JARVIS. A constant companion in this second life of his. [Host, you're making a mistake. You're throwing your life away for someone who never deserved you. Even if you give her your heart, it won't change anything. She won't suddenly love you back.]
Vincent sighed, his smile fading as the weight of the system's words settled in. 'I know, System. I know it won't change anything. But it's not about that anymore. I've already lost the fight. This isn't about winning her love.
This is about ending it. This is the only way I know how.'
[You're stronger than this, Host. You can walk away. You still have so much to live for. Don't throw it all away because of her.]
Vincent closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. '… I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. Tired of hoping, tired of waiting. My heart… it's broken, System. It's been broken so many times, I can't even count. I've tried to hold on, tried to repair it, but it's gone. There's nothing left.'
He took a fortifying breath. 'It wasn't my enemies who broke me, System. It was the people I loved. My family, her… the ones I would have died for with a smile on my face. They were the ones who shattered me."
For a moment, there was silence. The system didn't respond, as if even the system couldn't argue with that truth. Vincent had given everything to the people he loved, and in return, they had taken everything from him; his love, his hope, his heart.
'And now.' Vincent continued. 'I'm going to prove it. One last time. I'm going to show her that I wasn't lying. That I would have given her my life if she asked. Well, now she doesn't even need to ask. I'll give it to her anyway.'
The system's voice came through again, softer this time. [You don't need to prove anything, Host. Your love was always real. Even if she never accepted it, even if she never returned it, it doesn't change the fact that it was real. But this is not the way to find peace.]
Vincent laughed softly, shaking his head. 'Peace? No. I'm looking for an end. I'm done with this world. I've given everything I have, and now there's nothing left.'
There was a knock on the door again, pulling Vincent from the deep abyss of his thoughts. This time, it wasn't the lawyer. The soft but distinct sound of the knock seemed heavier, like the weight of what was about to happen was already pressing down on the world around him.
The door creaked open slowly, and a doctor stepped inside, holding a folder of paperwork in his hands. His movements were tentative, and his expression was filled with nervous apprehension, as if he were about to do something irreversible.
"Mr Wayne-"
"It's just Vincent." He corrected, his voice calm yet detached. "I'm not attached to the Wayne name anymore. Just call me Vincent."
The doctor blinked, visibly taken aback by the request. The name Wayne carried weight, power, and legacy. But here stood a man who had willingly discarded it, as if it meant nothing. The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly as he approached the small table near Vincent's chair, laying the folder down.
"Mr Vincent." The doctor spoke softly, trying to maintain professionalism despite the anxiety swirling in his chest. "You understand what you're asking us to do, don't you? This isn't a decision that can be taken lightly. We can't just proceed with a heart transplant without following the proper protocols. And you-"
"I know exactly what I'm asking." Vincent interrupted again, his tone unflinchingly firm but not unkind. His eyes bore into the doctor's with a calm intensity that made the man's stomach twist. "I've made my decision. There's nothing more to discuss. Just bring me the papers, and we'll get this done."
Vincent signed all the necessary papers without hesitation, making the doctor concerned. "When are we doing this? I can't imagine my 'patient' should wait much longer."
"We can proceed now if you'd like. Everything is ready. We've already completed your tests, and you have no medical complications preventing us from starting the procedure. We can begin immediately."
Vincent nodded, his face an unreadable mask. "Good. I'm ready."
-
He was once again floating in a void. Instead of the panic that he previously felt, he felt at peace.
["Host... I'm really disappointed in you. I know I played a part in putting you in this situation, but still, you didn't need to go this far, right?"]
"You know I never hated you." His voice was steady, though it held the weight of countless unspoken regrets. "I would've made the same choices, even if you hadn't interfered in my life. As for you being disappointed in me... believe me, I was far more disappointed in myself than you could ever be."
He remained silent, before speaking up again. "Before you go and find another host, do you mind if I vent out everything I've been feeling?"
[I'm listening, Host.]
"You know…" He began, his voice quieter now. "When I died in my first life, I was seventeen. A kid. Alone, with no family, no friends, no one to care about me. An orphan. When I died...
I thought that was it. I didn't even think anyone would notice, not that there was anyone to notice."
"And then, somehow... I found myself reborn into a new life. At first, it felt like a dream, a cruel joke, maybe. I had a mother and father this time. Can you believe that? Real parents! I'd never had that before. I didn't even know what it was supposed to feel like, but that didn't matter. It was everything. It felt like... a second chance. Like I'd been given the one thing I'd always dreamed of but had never known was possible."
"For the first few months, I didn't believe it was real. Every day, I thought I'd wake up, and it'd all be gone. That I'd be back in the dark, lonely place where no one knew my name. But it wasn't a dream. It was real. As the days passed, as I felt my mother's love, I began to believe it. And when I finally accepted it... when I let myself feel the happiness... it was like a weight had been lifted. I was free." He chuckled softly. "I basked in the love both my new parents were willing to share, and behaved like the perfect child."
"Unfortunately, mother died when I was five, and it caused a lot of pain in the home. Then, I heard a ding in my head, and an introduction. I thought it was some kind of joke at first, some delusion my mind had cooked up. But... it was real. Or at least, as real as anything in this world. The system told me that this world I'd been reborn into... was a novel. A story. A fiction. I was just a character in someone else's narrative."
"Was anything real? Was I real?" His eyes narrowed as the questions that had haunted him back then resurfaced. "The system tried to explain it, saying this world was as real as any other, just one reality in an endless sea of possibilities. That the people I loved were real, that my experiences were real. But... how could I believe that? How could I trust anything after that? But what choice did I have? I'd lived this life, loved these people. I had to believe in that. So, I did. I accepted it, in my own way."
A smile crossed his face as he remembered his fleeting hope. "I thought maybe the system would help me. Maybe it'd give me powers, make me the protagonist of my own story. You know, like in those books. Someone strong enough to protect the people I cared about. But no. It wasn't that kind of system. It was a love system. It only rewarded me when I loved someone truly, when I acted selflessly, when my heart was pure." He let out a bitter laugh. "I guess I wasn't cut out for that."
"It wasn't the kind of system I'd imagined. It wasn't overpowered, like the ones I used to read about in those novels. There were no instant powers, no magical abilities. Just… love. I wasn't disappointed, though. If the system had never existed, I probably would have lived the same way. At some point, I realized this system was perfect for me, after all. What I wanted most was a happy, loving life. And I could get rewarded for doing what I truly desired caring for the people I loved. It was just the cherry on top."
The man's smile softened, the fondness in his expression undeniable. "Everything was going well. I accepted the system, learned how it worked it was simple, really. Just love. Just treat the people I cared about with genuine love and take care of them. Do selfless things for them. But I never did any of it for the system. I did it because I wanted to. If the system had asked me to love someone just for the sake of rewards, I never would have done it. It had to come from me, from my heart."
He let out a slow, thoughtful breath. "There are so many kinds of love. I treated my family, the people I cared about, with the love I thought they deserved. I spent years showing my father that, trying to make him feel how much I appreciated him staying strong after mother died. Not because I expected anything in return, but because I truly wanted him to know how much he meant to me."
"Sure, the system rewarded me for it. I got skills driving, cooking, playing the piano, and all sorts of things. But I hardly ever used them. I didn't have the chance. Being a kid in a rich family didn't exactly leave me with many opportunities to practice all those skills. And well… being so young didn't help either."
He grew more reflective as he continued. "My love and support allowed my father to move on after three years, and when I was nine, he remarried to a socialite with daughters of her own. I tried to make things easier by welcoming them with open arms into the family, and showing them the same love and consideration I gave my father. At first, they were overjoyed with the things I did for them. Little acts of kindness, gestures that a gentleman would do; bringing them water, opening doors, taking care of their small needs. I hadn't had the chance to show nor tell anyone I loved them in my past life. This time, I wanted to make sure they knew."
"At first, they laughed, they smiled. They pampered me, kissed my forehead, and made me feel like my love was cherished. It was everything I wanted." His voice trailed off, growing quieter. "But over time... something changed. It became routine to them. The little things I did, the love I showed they stopped noticing. It all became so... normalized."
"When something becomes routine, people start to take it for granted. They forget the feelings behind it. They start expecting it, and the meaning just... fades away. It was weird for me, watching them change. They still talked, they still laughed, but it wasn't the same. I couldn't understand it. It hurt. It hurt more than anything."
"But even when it hurt, I didn't stop loving them. I couldn't. I kept trying, kept hoping things would turn around. But love isn't something you can force. It either is, or it isn't.
So I just kept giving what I could, not expecting anything in return."
"I was around thirteen when things started falling apart, I think. Maybe the changes happened before, but I didn't notice until then. I became that kid who didn't talk much, who stayed quiet and distant. In school, I sat at the back of the classroom like some lonely kid in desperate need of love and care. Funny, right?
The one who's supposed to give love, acting like the one who needs it the most."
"Then, I met her. Vanessa Carlisle." The name rolled off his tongue like a cherished secret, and a faint smile tugged at his lips a real smile this time, though filled with sadness. "I don't know what it was about her. Maybe it was because she was the only one who came to me when no one else did, when I wasn't acting like how a kid should act. I was just sitting there on the last bench, like a depressed ghost, and she... she saw me. She helped me out of those dark days. I didn't know why I was so depressed, so weighed down with sadness. Maybe it was because I was sensitive, or maybe it was the crushing realization that the people I loved no longer loved me back. But Vanessa... she was different."
"I think she was the only reason I stayed sane during that time. I don't know how I fell so low back then, but it happened. It wasn't one of those sudden descents into darkness, but a slow, quiet fall. A gradual unraveling that went unnoticed by those around me. Vanessa, though… she made everything feel a little less suffocating, and a little more bearable. We didn't talk much. We didn't spend a lot of time together outside of school. We didn't even share secrets like most friends did. But somehow, her mere presence in the classroom was enough to make me feel safe. Sitting next to her, knowing she was there it gave me a sense of comfort I hadn't felt in a long time. I don't even know if she realized how much she meant to me."
"I never told her, and it's not like I had any plans to. It wasn't a conscious decision to treat her better, but I just… did. Unconsciously, I started to go out of my way to be kinder to her. Middle school went by smoothly with me being close to her, even if she didn't know how much I relied on that connection. She was the only person I had allowed into my little world. I wanted to have more friends, of course everyone does but for some reason, I just couldn't. Something about me kept people at arm's length, except for her."
"Then came the time for high school, and things changed. My stepmother and sister were both pushing me to apply for high school early, recommending schools left and right, but I wasn't interested in any of them. I couldn't even think about making a decision until I knew where Vanessa was going. She was the only thing that mattered. I didn't care about the rankings or reputation of the school. I just wanted to be where she was."
"My stepmother didn't seem to care much about my decision once I finally told her where I wanted to go. It felt like she didn't know or didn't care about my mental state, about whether I had friends or not. Everything with them was becoming so bland, so disconnected. But I didn't complain. I never complained. I tried so hard to hold onto them, to not lose the only family I had, especially after dad died."
"When I started showing Vanessa more affection, I don't think she noticed. Maybe she didn't understand what I was trying to convey, or maybe she just saw me as a normal friend. Either way, it didn't stop me. I remember the first time I did something truly special for her it was on her birthday. I decided to use my Grandmaster cooking skills for the first time. My stepmother and sisters were shocked when I told the chefs at home to step aside so I could cook. They watched me with curious eyes, wondering where I had learned to cook. I lied, of course, and told them I had picked it up from the internet. I didn't want to explain the system or the way it worked. I felt proud, though. For once, they were paying attention to me."
"My sister, naturally skeptical, asked me why I was doing it. I didn't give her a real answer. I just told her I wanted to, and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment."
"After packing the lunch I made, along with a few other handmade gifts, I went to school. I knew that Vanessa came from a wealthy background just like me, so there was no point in buying her something she could already get herself. I wanted to give her something personal, something that came from the heart. When I handed her the gift, her eyes lit up with surprise. She nearly cried when I told her I had made the food myself. I'm not sure she believed me, though how could she? It probably tasted just as good as what her five-star chefs made at home. But still, she smiled, and that was enough for me. Seeing her happy made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time contentment."
"I was double happy that day, not just because she liked it, but because I was finally able to give her something that mattered. After that, I started cooking for her every day. Some days, she didn't eat the food I made, but that didn't bother me. It wasn't about whether she ate it or not. It was about showing her that I cared. It felt satisfying just to do something for her, to be able to express my affection in a tangible way. I lost count of how many things I did for her. It just became part of my daily routine, but I always tried to keep it normal, never too obvious. I didn't want to seem too clingy, especially after learning how my mother and sister had responded to my attempts to show them love. They had grown distant, cold, even indifferent to my gestures."
"But with Vanessa, it felt different. I allowed myself to dream. I thought we could go well together. I imagined a future where we were more than just friends, where maybe, one day, we could get married. It was a foolish dream, maybe, but it was real to me. I loved her. Truly. If she had asked for anything anything at all I would have done it. All she had to do was say the word, and I would have made it happen.
"I thought she liked me too. She was always close to me, and I mistook that for something more. Maybe I was overthinking things, but it felt so real to me. I don't even know how things got to the point they did, but I remember it clearly now. It was just before our farewell party, and I decided to ask her out. I was 90 percent sure that she liked me too. We had spent so much time together. How could she not feel the same way? But when I asked her, in front of the whole class, she rejected me. Just like that. I wasn't prepared for it, not at all. I don't know why she did it. Maybe she wasn't ready for a relationship, or maybe she just didn't see me that way. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. It hurt all the same."
"What hurt even more was how she didn't stop me when I left. Not a word, not a single gesture to show she cared. She just let me walk away, and that… that cut deeper than the rejection itself."
"That day was one of the worst of my life. I cried the entire night. The pain was unbearable. I kept asking myself why it had to happen. Why had Avey rejected me? Why didn't she love me back? We had known each other for so long. What had I done wrong? What was missing? I asked you something back then, didn't I, System? If I was doing things right. If I was wrong in some way."
[I remember it, Host,]
"You told me it was normal. That I should try again. You said I needed to be more persistent, to put more effort into it. That I had to fight for my love. You told me that if I kept pushing, eventually, I'd get there. I'd earn it." The man sighed deeply, his chest tightening as he recalled that conversation. "You said something beautiful that day. Something that stuck with me even now, after death. 'If you want something in life from the depth of your heart, the whole universe conspires for you to get it.'"
"Man, what a shitty life I had, huh? It would've been better if I hadn't gotten a second chance at all."
[Host, you chose the wrong people to love. They didn't deserve you in their lives. Even now, I'd say just forget them. You can live a wonderful life without love.]
"Ha! That's rich, hearing that from you. Aren't you a love system? Weren't you supposed to turn me into some kind of hero of romance, doing love tasks and winning hearts? Don't you think it's a little funny, System?"
[That's why I exist, Host. Believe me when I say the one-sided love you've suffered wasn't a thing in that world. The more effort you put into love, the less you often got in return.]
"What a wonderful world I lived in, huh? Out of all the billions of people on this planet, I managed to pick the wrong ones to love. Every. Single. Time. Why don't you go ahead and rate my efforts over that shitty life of mine? Let's take a look at your data panel, huh?"
[On what basis would you like me to rate, Host?]
"Did I love enough? Did I love in the right way? Did I know how to love?"
[It's a perfect score, Host. One hundred percent. If it weren't for the people you were bound to, the characters of the novel, or the plot, they would've definitely loved you back. Your love was boundless. Even I, as your system, am honored to have chosen someone like you as my Host.]
"A hundred out of a hundred, huh? And yet, after all that, I couldn't even get the girl I sacrificed my life for. That's rich." He sighed, shaking his head. "As for that 'honor,' System, I think I'm the one who should be honored.
You were a big help on this long, torturous journey of mine. More than you know."
"You know, you once said they were just characters, part of a plot. That they were bound by something I couldn't control. I still can't believe I was that unlucky. That out of all the possible fates, I was destined to fall in love with people who couldn't love me back, bound by some kind of twisted narrative. It's almost funny… I was a villain in their story all along, wasn't I?"
"Even when you told me about this when I turned eighteen, I didn't believe it. I didn't want to believe in that bullshit. Fate? Plot? No.
I didn't believe in any of that. I believed in effort. In how much love you pour into something. I thought one day, maybe one day, they'd see it. They'd see me. See my efforts.
See how much I cared."
"I dreamed about that day, System. I dreamed of the moment they'd finally see me with eyes full of love. But I guess… I was never the protagonist in this story. I wasn't meant to win. I wasn't meant to be loved. I didn't lose to anyone but myself. That's what hurts the most.
I fought so hard, and in the end, the one I couldn't beat… was me."
"I was tired, man. So damn tired. I didn't want to care about them anymore. I didn't want them. I just wanted to enjoy what's left of my life, I wasn't strong enough for that. At least my final gesture was enough to convey the depths of my feelings. That's all, System. Thanks for listening."
[Of course, Host. It was truly a pleasure.]
He felt himself… unraveling after the system's final words. He didn't fight it. He willingly allowed himself to become one with void with a content smile on his face.