Kaien's eyes flickered open the moment the sun broke through his window. The dream was still fresh in his mind—clearer than anything he'd experienced before. The tower. The fall. The unsettling feeling of an inevitable demise. Was it a prophecy? Or perhaps, just an unfinished scene from the original outline he had written in another life?
He sat up in bed, heart thumping, as the weight of the dream clung to him. His hand instinctively went to the scroll on the desk beside him. The parchment glowed faintly in the dim light, as though beckoning him to investigate further. Maybe there was something he missed—some subtle detail in the world-building that would help him understand this strange new reality.
Kaien closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recollect the beats of the story from his past life—the details, the characters, the plot threads. It felt like pulling at a long-forgotten memory.
Arcanum Academy. He had outlined it briefly in the original draft. A prestigious institution for magic, where students honed their powers in the name of balance. The factions, the professors, even the surrounding cities—all written down in broad strokes. But Kaien could never quite remember the finer details. In his obsession with character development, he'd focused on his protagonist, leaving the world itself underdeveloped.
And now he was here, stuck in the middle of it.
Kaien pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment he'd tucked away in his room the night before. His original notes. The ones he'd written before his untimely death. He scanned them quickly, noting that many things didn't match up with his current reality.
The Academy War Games, for instance, were supposed to take place in Chapter 7, not now. The Red Dawn Faction, originally an antagonistic force, seemed to have all but disappeared from the story. The most unsettling realization, however, was the one he had been avoiding since the start—Kaien Lior was never meant to last past Chapter 13.
The more he examined the story, the clearer it became: the world wasn't just different—it was out of order.
Was this a glitch in the fabric of his creation? Or had he somehow altered the narrative so much that things were no longer following the script?
Kaien let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against his chair. He needed answers. Real answers.
By mid-morning, Kaien had resolved to leave his dorm and explore the Academy. He needed to clear his head—and maybe, just maybe, find someone who could explain what was happening. He found himself wandering the quiet halls of the lower floors, away from the noise of the main academy corridors. The place had a strange emptiness, as if its true potential was never realized. Some parts were beautifully ornate, with gilded arches and intricately carved stonework, while others were hastily constructed, as if someone had forgotten to finish the design.
As he turned a corner, he collided with someone—a young girl with pale skin and silver hair, her expression unreadable.
"Sorry," Kaien muttered, stepping back.
The girl studied him for a long moment before she spoke. "You're not supposed to be here this long."
The words struck Kaien like a cold wave. He blinked at her, trying to mask the shock, but her eyes never left his. There was something about her—a knowingness, as if she wasn't simply a student at Arcanum Academy. She seemed to understand more than she was letting on.
"What do you mean by that?" Kaien asked, trying to steady his breath.
The girl shrugged nonchalantly, her silver hair shimmering faintly in the dim light. "I don't know. That's just what I heard."
He frowned. "Who told you that?"
But before she could answer, the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, and the girl quickly walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students who were filing into the lecture hall. Her words hung in the air like an unresolved mystery.
As Kaien made his way to the Scriptors' lecture hall, his thoughts were clouded with doubts. Not supposed to be here this long? That didn't make sense. He had read the outline. Kaien was a secondary character—a minor player in a vast narrative. He was supposed to die, not continue living. But something felt off—more than just the oddities in the story's timeline. It was like... the world itself had expectations of him. Had he been written to last longer than his fate allowed?
The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it became. Were the people around him aware of the story? Were they simply playing along with their roles, or were they part of something larger—something he didn't yet understand?
He entered the lecture hall, and his thoughts continued to race. It was the same as always—students clustered in groups, the low hum of their conversations filling the room. He took a seat near the back, hoping to keep a low profile.
As he sat there, something strange happened. One of the professors walked past him, greeting students as usual, but as Kaien was about to settle in, the professor paused directly in front of him. The man's eyes locked onto Kaien with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
The professor leaned closer and whispered, just loud enough for Kaien to hear, "Good morning, Kai."
For a moment, Kaien froze. Kai? The professor had used his name from his old life. He wasn't supposed to know that. How could he? Kaien had never told anyone about his past life, not here at Arcanum Academy.
But before he could question the professor further, the man turned away and continued walking down the aisle.
Kaien's mind reeled. Had the professor... slipped? Was it a slip of the tongue, or had he actually known? And why did it feel like more and more people were becoming aware of the fact that he wasn't just a character—they were acknowledging that something was wrong, that he wasn't supposed to be here.
Was this a glitch in the narrative, or was something else at play? Could they all see the story unfold?
Trying to shake off his confusion, Kaien focused on the lecture ahead. It was about written magic, the art of scripting spells and controlling fate through the written word. It was precisely the type of class he had been hoping for, one that might give him more control over the scroll's power.
As the professor lectured, Kaien couldn't help but daydream about testing his newfound abilities again. The possibilities were endless—he could change the world with a few strokes of his pen.
His hand subconsciously reached for the scroll, which he'd carefully hidden inside his bag, and he began to write something small, just to see if he could make it work in the middle of class.
"I want this candle to go out." he wrote silently on the edge of his scroll.
At first, nothing happened. But then, slowly, the wick of the candle on the desk began to flicker. The flame sputtered once, twice—and then it was gone. The room grew dimmer as the candle's light faded completely. But that wasn't the end of it.
Kaien gasped as he looked up. The dimness wasn't the only thing that had changed. There was a shift in the air, a strange, oppressive force pulling at the students in the room. Kaien's heart raced as the world around him seemed to twist, reality becoming unmoored.
Without warning, gravity itself gave way.
Students shrieked as they began to float, drifting upward like leaves in the wind. Books, papers, and chairs followed suit, and the room turned into a chaotic whirlwind of objects.
Kaien felt his own body lift from the ground, his feet no longer touching the stone floor. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, and his mind screamed: What did I just do?
The room spun around him, and Kaien's heart raced as he clutched the scroll tightly in his hand, realizing with horror that he had unintentionally rewritten the laws of gravity itself.
Had the world finally snapped back into place? Or had he just crossed a line from which there was no return?
To be continued…