"The battlefield shimmered beneath flashing sword arcs and the flickering radiance of magic spells.
After a tense clash, Max's sword cut through the air, carving a line of light through the enemy ranks before severing the legion commander Gorlock's head.
"I see the Demon King. Just one more step… one final strike… and it will all be over."
His companions fought beside him, their movements polished by years of shared battles.
Friya, the archmage and the Hero's lover. John Hawkeye, the peerless hunter. Jin Leafestone, the healer who had saved them countless times.
And at the center—Max Lionheart.
An orphan forged by tragedy, raised by knights, tempered by steel and discipline. Chosen by the world to become humanity's savior.
This was the party that carried humanity's future upon their shoulders. Together, they had slain monsters, shattered enemy armies, saved entire kingdoms, and survived impossible odds. They were prepared to sacrifice everything to end the Demon King's tyranny.
Max's chest ached with exhaustion and excitement. Blood, dirt, and rain covered his skin. But even though exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and his companions were gravely wounded after days of battle without rest, Max forced himself onward.
He was too close to stop.
'I can almost hear humanity celebrating already.'
Then suddenly—
A dark figure flashed behind Friya. A faint scream reached his ears, causing him to freeze as another figure appeared beside the Demon King.
"Good job, Silth," the Demon King praised.
It was Silth. The Shadow Assassin.
Once a member of the Hero's party, he had fought beside them as an ally and a friend. Now he stood behind Friya, a dagger pressed against her throat.
Silth had once loved her. But Friya's heart had always belonged to Max. Admiration slowly rotted into envy. Envy hardened into resentment. And resentment eventually sharpened into hatred. So when the demons offered him power without restraint or humiliation, Silth accepted.
Max's blood ran cold. His companion—his lover, Friya—was paralyzed within Silth's grip.
Amusement flickered within the Demon King's crimson eyes.
Friya's body remained rigid, the dagger resting cold against her throat. Faint dark sigils crawled across her wrists and throat like shackles of ink, a demonic seal suppressing her magic completely.
"No... It can't be. Silth!" Max screamed. "How dare you harm her…"
Silth said nothing. He only tightened his grip and pulled his cloak higher, letting darkness swallow his face.
For a fleeting moment, Friya's gaze met Max's across the battlefield. No panic in her eyes. Only the quiet resolve he knew all too well. She shook her head once. At that same moment, a faint whisper brushed against his mind, fragile but unmistakable—her voice carried through the thin thread of magic she had left: «Don't… surrender. Finish it»
Time itself seemed to freeze. The screams, the magic, the chaos—all faded into a single heartbeat of terror.
"Surrender, Hero."
Max's sword felt impossibly heavy. 'I could win this war. I could end everything… but at what cost? Her life? Can I do that?'
The Demon King's voice cut through the silence again, calm and mocking: "Choose, Hero. Your lover… or humanity."
Every conviction he held shattered in an instant. The sword slipped from his hand. His knees hit the wet ground. His spirit shattered. Around him, humans froze in shock. The demons laughed.
He stared at the Demon King's mocking smile. His gaze drifted beyond the battlefield—"
...
"Wow. What a surprise. I didn't expect that at all," Xue Ying muttered sarcastically as he shut off the holo-screen and leaned against his window.
"He could've done the right thing and sacrificed her for the greater good, she was even willing to... but no… Max just couldn't let his lover die."
"If I were him, I would have cut her down myself and killed the Demon King right after. What a stupid guy."
Rain tapped lightly against the glass. Neon streaks from the city outside painted his face in flashes of blue and pink as flying cars passed by.
Humanity had entered the year 2837.
City of Bajyou, Advanced Earth.
02:24 AM.
He had followed this novel for months now, watching the main character Max struggle, rise, falter, and ultimately surrender, for reasons and mistakes that shouldn't have been.
Xue Ying was a hardcore fan of fiction and stories.
He studied. He worked. He walked the same streets every day, surrounded by chaos and neon lights. There was nothing remarkable about him or his life—except for one thing; Stories were the only thing that truly captivated him.
Manhua. Web novels. Cultivation epics. Systems. Reincarnation. Endless worlds beyond imagination.
But the more he read, the more it irritated him. The protagonists were never truly free. They seemed powerful, yes. Respected, feared, even worshipped sometimes. Yet they were always chained by something.
They missed opportunities out of sentiment.
They spared enemies out of "righteousness."
They bowed to fate while pretending they were defying it.
Xue Ying despised that. He always dreamed of being a main character in a novel.
An exciting life.
Absolute strength.
No chains. No obligations. No limits. Only boundless freedom.
'If I were a Hero, I would never hesitate. Never miss a chance. Never let morals, reputation, or anything else dictate my path.'
'Power existed to be taken. Freedom existed to be seized. Only I can decide whether I do or do not.'
"Even with humanity's advancements… the closest I can get to that life is by playing VR games," he sighed, shaking his head.
"It's already late. I should grab some food and get some sleep…" Xue Ying muttered, stepping outside.
The streets were still alive, even at this hour. People talked beneath the neon glow; some laughed, others argued. Neon lights washed the road in cheap color, reflecting on the puddles that accumulated after the rain. Billboard lights flickered overhead. Holo-ads hovered along the sidewalks, advertising discount meals, fleeting pleasures, and promises long since forgotten.
Xue Ying veered off the main road into a narrow alley. Usually, it was a quick shortcut to the convenience store. But after turning into the alley, something felt… wrong.
The noise behind him strangely thinned, fading into a dull hum before disappearing entirely. Footsteps. Voices. Laughter. All gone.
The alley ahead stretched endlessly beneath dim streetlights along the sides, shadows crawling over the walls. Xue Ying slowed, his instincts immediately sharpened. The silence pressed against his mind. This was unnatural.
'Go back. Now!'
He turned—When suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in his chest. A hand burst from the darkness and pierced straight through his chest.
'A hand…? How—?! Where did that come from?'
Shock locked him in place, the searing pain only sharpening his disbelief. His eyes widened, mind unable to process what had happened. He couldn't even see the person that pierced him.
He had no power to scream. No one would hear him. He stumbled, knees hitting the slick pavement, blood pouring between his trembling fingers as he clutched his chest.
The alley tilted, neon lights stretching into smeared streaks as the world spun around him. His thoughts splintered, memories and fleeting hope collided in his mind.
Dizziness swept over him in waves, threatening to swallow him whole. But he clung to thought—'I won't die here… not like this.'
He tried to push himself upright, tried to fight the cold, the pain, the inevitability—but his body refused.
Limbs felt heavy, as if they no longer belonged to him. The world stretched and warped around his vision. He lay on his back, staring at the sky like a dying hero in some tragic tale.
"At least… it wasn't a boring death" he rasped, laughter jagged, blood foaming at the corners of his lips, as tears slowly streamed from his eyes.
His chest ached, but not just from the wound—something deeper, the ache of unfulfilled potential, the suffocating pressure of invisible chains, the remnants of abandoned dreams...
Then, slowly, the darkness swallowed him entirely.
And just like that, Xue Ying died.
...
[Ding!]
[34%..63%...98%]
[Ding! Host bound successfully]
Suddenly, consciousness snapped back like a whip cracking through the void. No body. No sound. No light. Just endless nothingness pressing in from all sides. Cold. Suffocating. Absolute.
'W-what… what is this?' His mind scrambled. Panic clawed at him, sharp and raw. 'Am I… alive? Dead? Where… where am I?'
He tried to move, but his limbs felt like lead, disconnected. 'This… can't be real. It has to be a dream… or a nightmare.'
For a heartbeat, he wondered if this was truly the end—If everything he had imagined, every story he had mocked, every dream of power and freedom, ended here—in silence.
Then something started to change within the space. Something stirred. The darkness itself shivered, folded inward, like reality itself was bending. It warped into a humanoid silhouette, darker than the void around it. Tall, indistinct, impossible to grasp—like a shadow cut from nothingness itself.
Only its eyes glowed. Bloody crimson. Cold.
Fear crawled up Xue Ying's spine. The longer he stared, the more his instincts screamed at him to run, to flee—but there was nothing to run with. No body. No legs. No heartbeat.
He couldn't look into its eyes. Then the shadow spoke. Its voice was surprisingly calm but heavy, like the weight of mountains pressing down on him with each word.
"I have been watching you for a long time..."
"Among countless souls," the shadow continued, "few crave freedom as deeply as you."
Xue Ying's chest tightened. His mind raced, panic curling in his stomach. "W-what… what do you mean? Who are you? What is this place?!"
Something resembling a smile appeared across the shadow's face, too sharp, too white against the void. "Among the billions of lives, I have chosen you. For a better life…"
The words struck deep inside Xue Ying. For reasons he couldn't understand, the voice carried a strange sense of familiarity. The shadow's lips curved slightly.
But then he snapped, "No… that makes no sense! I don't understand!" His thoughts tumbled over themselves, fear and disbelief tangling together. "Why me? Why now?"
The shadow tilted its head, crimson eyes burning brighter. "You are ready. For a life… unlike any you have known. Power, freedom… choices beyond mortality."
Xue Ying swallowed hard. The void seemed to press closer, suffocating, yet a spark of hope—strange, unwelcome—rose in him. "Choices…? What do you mean?"
"Two choices. You may vanish into oblivion. Or… you may take the second path. A life where nothing binds you. Where strength, freedom, and opportunity are yours… if you dare."
Xue Ying's heart thudded, cold sweat running down his neck. His voice cracked as he whispered, "Another world… another life…?"
Xue Ying's lips twisted into a wry smirk. "So either I disappear into oblivion… or I obtain the life I've dreamed about for years." He paused, eyes narrowing. "And there is no hidden price?"
The answer seemed obvious. But Xue Ying hesitated. He was smart.
"As expected of you, Xue Ying," it said. "There is a condition. A small one."
"And that is?" Xue Ying said cautiously.
The shadow leaned closer, its crimson eyes burned brighter as a devilish smile spread across its face.
"Do not live as an ordinary man." That was all.
No contracts. No warnings. No strings. Just three words.
'Don't be normal.'
Xue Ying laughed, sharp and short, the sound echoing strangely in the void. "This is exactly what I wanted. Well, I do accept your offer," he said.
"Then I choose the second path."
The shadow straightened, the smile widening, almost mockingly. It placed one hand behind its back while raising the other in a casual wave.
The void collapsed faster and faster, swallowing everything.
But just before the last trace of darkness vanished, Xue Ying felt it.
A strange sensation—countless unseen eyes opening in the dark and settling upon him.
Then a whisper echoed beside his ear—
"Farewell, mortal."