I could hear Dante calling my name—over and over again.
At first, his voice was clear. Sharp. Laced with worry.
"Elias—hey! Elias, can you hear me?!"
My chest tightened.
His voice shouldn't have mattered. None of it should have mattered. But it did. Because ever since I got pulled into this nightmare of a world, he was the only one who didn't treat me like trash.
He saved me from Zaden when everyone else watched.
He never hit me, even when I mouthed off.
He gave me medicine after martial class when I could barely stand, even if he acted like it was a chore. He could've walked away like everyone else, but he didn't.
Out of everyone in this twisted story, he was the only one who seemed to care.
Even if just a little.
And now… the system wants me to steal his place. To take his role. To become the hero. The savior.
And throw him into the fire meant for me.
To take my fate—death.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my skin.
How could I do that? He doesn't even know the truth. He doesn't know anything. He just thinks I'm a loser. An annoying pest. Maybe a little pitiful. But he doesn't know I was never supposed to exist here in the first place. That none of this was real.
At least, not for me.
And yet, now it is. Every second of pain. Every humiliation. Every look of disgust. Every drop of blood.
And the worst part?
If I don't take Dante's place—if I don't rewrite the script and become the hero—I die. That ending still belongs to me.
And if I refuse both? If I don't become the hero or the villain?
Then I stay here. Trapped. Forgotten. Or worse—erased.
And if I embrace the villain role fully… become something truly terrifying, something no one can ignore…
Then the world collapses.
All of it.
Burns.
Dies.
But maybe… maybe that's the right ending.
Maybe this world deserves it.
A world that chews up and spits out people like me. A world that mocks weakness and rewards cruelty. A world that gave a guy like Dante everything—and gave me nothing but chains.
I have no idea what's better anymore.
What's right.
What's wrong.
What I even am.
A slow numbness crept into my limbs. The dungeon walls wavered in my vision, like they were melting. The floor shifted beneath my feet. My breath caught as panic clawed up my throat.
"Elias—ELI—!" Dante's voice shattered—distorting, stretching, like it was being dragged through water.
I turned toward the wall where he was on the other side in confusion, but I couldn't hear him anymore. His voice dissolved. Everything around me spun violently.
Then—
Silence.
Darkness.
A weightless moment passed. Like the world stopped breathing.
---
"Elias, wake up!"
My eyes snapped open as I jolted upright, my breath catching in my throat. My heart thundered violently in my chest, still echoing the panic from—
From where?
I looked around, the world spinning for a moment. Light poured in through tall windows, casting warm golden rays onto neatly lined desks. The air was stuffy but familiar. Too familiar.
And then I saw him.
The man towering over me, arms folded, eyes narrowed with scorn.
Professor? My lips parted, but no sound came out.
What the hell is going on?
My head whipped to the side—and there he was.
Dante.
Sitting beside me, perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him. His brows were furrowed in irritation, like he couldn't believe I was pulling this stunt again.
No blood. No bruises. No dungeon. No chains. No Voss.
What the hell is happening?
We were locked up. We were in the dungeon. Voss had us trapped—there was that creature, that thing in the shadows. I could still hear its growls in my ears. I could still feel the suffocating air, the pulse of danger. I could feel the pain. The fear.
So how am I here?
"Elias!" the professor snapped again, his voice a whip of thunder that jolted me even more.
I slowly raised my head to meet his gaze, confusion etched across my face.
"Is this class a joke to you?" he barked, his words slicing cleanly through the silence.
And then—he said it.
"You're already weak enough in everything, and now you're slacking off by sleeping? If you can't fight, at least use that pathetic excuse of a brain."
The exact words.
Word for word.
Those were the exact words he said to me on my first day in this world. When I first woke up here. I remember it clearly because it burned into me. The shame. The anger. The helplessness.
I stared at him, stunned, unable to speak.
The room was deathly quiet for a second before it exploded with whispers and stifled laughter. Students looked at me with the same amused, mocking expressions they wore on day one. The girl in the third row chuckled behind her hand. The guy with the buzzcut elbowed his friend, clearly enjoying the show.
This was all too familiar.
Too exact.
A chill crawled down my spine like icy fingers.
What is this? A dream? Some illusion? Am I hallucinating?
But no dream had ever felt this real. The wood grain on the desk beneath my fingers. The faint scent of chalk dust in the air. The heavy thump of my heart still echoing from the dungeon—
No.
That was real.
I remember the monster. The darkness. The chain marks on Dante's wrists. The desperation. The system.
And the quest.
My breath hitched.
The quest. The choice. The system's message echoing in my mind, demanding I take Dante's place. That I become the hero. Or the villain.
That choice was real.
I could still feel the weight of it on my chest.
So why… why was everything exactly like the beginning?
The same room. The same people. The same humiliation.
Was it a reset? A rewind? Did I somehow get sent back?
But why?
Was it a second chance?
Or a warning?
My head spun as a sharp pressure built behind my eyes. Dante gave me a sideways glance, clearly annoyed but not concerned. Not like before. Not like when he was screaming my name through the dungeon walls.
That memory felt like it happened minutes ago. But now he sat here, completely unaware. Untouched.
It was like none of it ever happened.
But it did.
I know it did.
Because I'm not the same anymore.
Something inside me had already shifted. And no matter how much this world tried to hit the reset button, I couldn't unsee what I saw. I couldn't unfeel what I felt.
And I sure as hell couldn't forget the look in Dante's eyes when he thought I might die.
So now…
What do I do?
What do I choose?
The clock has already started ticking again.
I know now… this isn't just some story I wrote.
It's not fiction. It's not a game.
It's real. Every wound. Every choice. Every death.
I wasn't dreaming. I was shown what could happen—
What will happen… if I don't choose.
Be the hero and damn Dante.
Become the villain and damn the world.
Do nothing, and be forgotten.
The weight of it all settles in my chest like a blade turned inward.
This world isn't giving me another chance.
It's giving me a choice.
And no matter what I pick…
someone has to lose.
But this time it won't be me.