It was dark. Too dark.
Lucien slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt. His back hurt. Even his fingers felt cold.
"Where... am I?" he whispered.
He was not in his bed. Not in his apartment. Not in the modern city he remembered.
Instead, he was lying on a black stone floor. Red candles surrounded him. The room was huge and cold. The walls were black bricks. Strange magic filled the air.
Lucien sat up slowly.
A large mirror stood in front of him. He looked into it.
And his heart almost stopped.
The man in the mirror... was not him.
His hair was long and black. His skin was pale like snow. His eyes glowed red.
He was handsome. Too handsome. Like a vampire lord from a fantasy game.
"No. No, no, no," Lucien said. "This can't be real."
He looked at his hands. They were thin but strong. Rings of black metal sat on his fingers. He wore a dark coat with silver buttons and a red cape.
Then something clicked.
He remembered a game.
Shadowheart: Final Judgement. A fantasy RPG he played last year.
The final boss was a man named Lucien Greythorne.
A dark mage. King of shadows. Evil overlord.
The same man he now saw in the mirror.
"No way," Lucien whispered. "Did I... die and get isekai'd? Into the game? As the final boss?!"
His hands shook. His legs felt weak.
In the game, Lucien Greythorne always died. Every time. No matter what. The heroes always won.
"Wait," he said. "Maybe this is a dream."
He slapped his face. It hurt.
He bit his finger. It hurt more.
"This is real," he said.
A deep voice echoed through the hall.
"My Lord... you have awakened."
Lucien turned fast.
A skeleton in a tuxedo walked toward him. Tall. Glowing eye. White gloves. Black monocle.
"Mordekai," Lucien said without thinking.
His memory was coming back. Mordekai, the butler of Lucien Greythorne. In the game, he served the dark lord with tea... and death.
"My Lord, are you well?" Mordekai asked.
Lucien gave a weak smile. "Oh, I'm very confused."
"You have been asleep for one hundred years," Mordekai said. "The world has changed. But your enemies still live. The heroes are rising. They wish to kill you again."
Lucien twitched. "Again?"
"Yes, My Lord. As always."
Lucien grabbed his head. "Okay, okay. Breathe. Think."
This was the Dark Throne Room. The place where the final boss waited. After this, the heroes would come. He would die.
Lucien stood up.
"Not this time," he said.
He turned to Mordekai. "Change of plan."
"My Lord?"
"I don't want to die," Lucien said. "So we are going to do something new."
"What is that, My Lord?"
Lucien smirked. "We are going to survive."
Chapter 2: The Heroine Who Wants to Kill Me
Lucien sat on his black throne, thinking hard.
"I need a plan," he said.
Mordekai stood beside him, holding a silver tray.
"Tea, My Lord?"
Lucien took a sip. Warm. It tasted like fire and flowers.
"Thanks. Now tell me what's happening in the world."
Mordekai pulled out a scroll.
"The Holy Kingdom of Solaria is growing strong. They send heroes to destroy dark lords."
Lucien groaned. "Of course."
"One hero stands out. Her name is Iris Valemore. Golden hair. Blue sword. Pure heart. Very strong. Very shiny."
Lucien's eyes widened. "I know her! She's the main heroine! The one who kills me!"
"Yes, My Lord. She is coming here."
Lucien jumped. "What?!"
"Tomorrow," Mordekai said. "She brings knights. They think you are still asleep. But they will attack."
Lucien panicked. "Tomorrow? I'm not ready to die!"
"Then do not die, My Lord."
"Right. Think. If she sees I'm not evil, maybe she won't kill me. I just need to act normal."
"You mean act evil."
"Right. Evil. But friendly evil."
"My Lord, that is not a thing."
"It is now. We'll pretend to be villains. But we won't hurt anyone. Just scare them a little."
He snapped his fingers. "Scary decorations! Spooky music! Lightning effects!"
"Understood, My Lord. I shall prepare the fog machines."
---
The Next Day
The sky was dark. Thunder rolled over the black castle.
Lucien sat on his throne. Cool pose. One leg over the other. Hand on chin. Bored look.
Mordekai stood nearby, holding grapes.
"She is here," he whispered.
The doors slammed open.
Iris Valemore entered.
Golden armor. Shining hair. Blue sword with holy runes.
Lucien froze. (She's even prettier than I remembered.)
"Lucien Greythorne!" she shouted. "Your evil ends today!"
Lucien stood up. Raised an eyebrow.
"Welcome," he said. "To my castle."
Dramatic pause.
Iris narrowed her eyes. "You're awake. Good. Now die with honor."
Lucien smiled. "Oh, I don't plan to die. In fact... I plan to offer you tea."
Silence.
Iris blinked. "What?"
Lucien waved his hand. Mordekai rolled forward with a tray.
"Tea? Or cookies? They're bone-shaped."
Iris looked confused. "This must be a trick!"
"No trick. Maybe we can talk before you stab me."
"You expect me to trust a villain?"
"No. But maybe I can confuse you long enough to survive."
Iris paused.
"...What?"
Lucien clapped. "Tea party it is! Mordekai, chairs please!"
Here is the revised and merged chapter combining Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, with improved flow, tone, pacing, and clarity. I've polished dialogue, added transitions, and structured it as a single cohesive opening chapter.
---
Chapter 1: I Woke Up as the Final Boss
It was dark.
Too dark.
Lucien's eyes fluttered open. A dull ache pulsed in his head. His back throbbed against something hard and cold. Even his fingers stung with chill.
"Where... am I?" he whispered.
He wasn't in his bed. Not in his small, messy apartment. Not in the busy modern city he remembered. No hum of traffic, no glow of screens. Just… silence and cold.
He was lying on a stone floor—black as obsidian. Around him, dozens of crimson candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the towering walls made of black bricks. The room felt vast and lifeless. Yet… magic throbbed faintly in the air, as if the walls themselves breathed darkness.
Lucien sat up slowly.
Then he saw it.
A massive, full-length mirror stood before him, trimmed in silver thorns. He looked into it—and froze.
The man staring back at him wasn't him.
Long black hair cascaded past pale, flawless skin. His eyes—red and glowing like embers—pierced through the gloom. He wore a dark, high-collared coat trimmed with silver and lined with crimson. A flowing cape hung from his shoulders. Rings of black metal glinted on his fingers.
Lucien's breath caught in his throat.
"No. No, no, no…" he muttered.
He recognized this face. Not from any memory of his life—but from a game.
Shadowheart: Final Judgement.
It was an RPG he played last year. Grim, beautiful, and merciless. The final boss was an infamous villain. The Lord of Shadows. The Master of Death.
Lucien Greythorne.
The character in the mirror.
"Did I... die?" Lucien whispered. "And get isekai'd... into the game? As him?!"
His hands trembled. In the game, Lucien Greythorne always died in the final act. No matter what choices the player made—he was doomed. A legendary villain with no escape.
Lucien slapped his cheek.
Pain.
He bit his finger.
More pain.
"This is real," he said, his voice hollow.
A sudden, deep voice echoed through the chamber. "My Lord… you have awakened."
Lucien whipped around.
A tall skeleton in a black tuxedo strode toward him. It wore white gloves, a black monocle over one glowing eye socket, and held a silver tray with inhuman elegance.
"Mordekai…" Lucien said, without thinking.
The name surfaced like a memory he didn't own.
The butler of the Dark Lord. Loyal servant. Tea specialist. Professional assassin.
"My Lord, are you well?" Mordekai asked.
Lucien stared blankly. "Oh, I'm very confused."
"You have been asleep for one hundred years," Mordekai said with a respectful bow. "The world has changed. But your enemies endure. The heroes rise once more… and they seek your end."
Lucien blinked. "Again?"
"As always," the skeleton replied.
Lucien groaned and clutched his head. "Okay. Okay. Think."
This was the Dark Throne Room. The final battleground in the game. The place where the hero stormed in, gave a rousing speech, and killed the villain.
Not this time.
Lucien stood up, voice firm.
"Nope. I don't plan to die."
Mordekai's eye sockets flickered. "My Lord?"
"We're doing something no villain's ever done before," Lucien said, clenching his fists. "We're going to survive."
---
A Day Later
Lucien sat on his dark throne, brooding.
"I need a plan," he muttered.
Mordekai stood dutifully at his side, offering a teacup on a silver tray.
"Tea, My Lord?"
Lucien accepted. The tea was oddly fragrant—like fire and flowers.
"Thanks. Now talk to me. What's happening out there?"
Mordekai unfurled a parchment. "The Holy Kingdom of Solaria has grown stronger. They dispatch heroes to slay dark lords. One in particular stands out."
"Let me guess—blonde, beautiful, swings a holy sword?" Lucien said.
"Indeed. Lady Iris Valemore. She leads the charge. Strong. Noble. Radiant. Very shiny."
Lucien almost choked on his tea. "Iris?! She's the main heroine!"
"In the game," Mordekai said. "She slew you."
Lucien paled. "When's she getting here?"
"Tomorrow," the skeleton said calmly. "With a small party of knights. They believe you still slumber. They plan to… end you."
Lucien's heart pounded. "I haven't even come up with an evil plan yet! I haven't laughed maniacally! I'm not ready to die!"
"Then… do not die, My Lord."
Lucien stood and paced. "If I show Iris I'm not evil—maybe she won't kill me."
"You mean act evil," Mordekai corrected.
"No. Friendly evil."
"That… is not a thing."
"It is now," Lucien said, snapping his fingers. "Prepare scary decorations. Thunder, lightning, fog. But no blood. We terrify them—without actually hurting anyone."
Mordekai nodded slowly. "Understood. I shall prepare the fog machines."
---
The Next Day
The sky boiled with storm clouds. Thunder cracked as black rain lashed the castle windows. Lucien sat on his throne, legs crossed, chin resting on one hand, doing his best brooding villain pose.
"She is here," Mordekai whispered, standing beside him with a bowl of grapes.
The great doors slammed open.
Iris Valemore strode in like a sunrise. Golden armor gleaming. Long blond hair flowing. A blue sword etched with holy runes shimmered in her hands.
Lucien's breath hitched.
(Oh no. She's even prettier than I remembered.)
"Lucien Greythorne!" she shouted. "Your evil ends today!"
Lucien rose slowly, raising one eyebrow. "Welcome," he said in the deepest voice he could muster. "To my castle."
Pause for effect.
Iris narrowed her eyes. "You are awake. Good. Now die with honor."
Lucien gave her a slow smile. "Actually… I was thinking of offering you tea."
She blinked. "What?"
He gestured.
Mordekai rolled forward with the tray.
"Tea? Or cookies?" Lucien added. "They're bone-shaped."
Iris looked visibly thrown. "This… must be a trick."
Lucien sighed. "No trick. I just thought maybe we could talk. Before you stab me."
"You expect me to trust a villain?"
"No," Lucien said honestly. "But maybe I can confuse you long enough to stay alive."
There was a pause.
"…What?"
Lucien clapped his hands. "Tea party it is! Mordekai, bring chairs!"