My name is Evan Rylan, a perfectly ordinary college student—or at least, that's what I always told myself.Classes, part-time work, endless assignments… yet none of it mattered. What truly filled my days were novels. Stories of heroes, villains, and impossible worlds. I wasn't living my life; I was living through pages.
That afternoon, the sky hung gray and heavy over the city. I was walking home, my phone in hand, completely lost in the final chapter of a novel I had been obsessed with for months. The story was called The Rise of the Saint and the Fall of the Devil.
The ending left a sour taste in my mouth.The so-called villain, Lucien Vale, the man who had sacrificed everything for love, was betrayed by the very woman he protected. Her last words stabbed deeper than any blade:
"In my belly… it's not your child, but the hero's."
I stopped in the middle of the street, staring at those lines.That was it? The villain dies, the hero lives happily ever after, and no one cares about the man who bled for them?
A laugh escaped me—half rage, half disbelief."What a joke," I muttered, gripping my phone so hard my knuckles whitened. "Lucien didn't deserve that."
The world around me blurred as my chest burned with anger. A blaring horn cut through my thoughts.I turned—and the only thing I saw were headlights.
For an instant, time froze.My reflection flashed in the windshield: wide eyes, open mouth, the expression of a fool. Then pain, light, and silence.
When I opened my eyes, everything was wrong.
The smell of smoke and medicine filled my nose. My body felt heavy, wrapped in silk sheets instead of hospital linen. A chandelier hung above me—golden, ornate, unreal.
I sat up.The room wasn't mine. It looked like something out of the very novel I'd just read: velvet curtains, carved furniture, and a wall full of portraits staring down at me like judges.
My heart pounded. No way…
I caught sight of a mirror across the room.The face that stared back wasn't mine.Pale skin. Jet-black hair. Cold blue eyes like ice over a frozen lake.
"Young Master Lucien, you're awake!"
A maid rushed in, trembling, clutching a towel. Her fear wasn't subtle—it was terror.
Lucien.The name echoed in my head like a curse.
"No…" I whispered. "This can't be real."
Memories not my own crashed through my mind—fire, blood, betrayal, a sword piercing a chest. My chest.
I fell to my knees, clutching my head as the truth hit me.I had died… and been reborn as Lucien Vale, the most hated villain of the story I despised.
The villain fated to die by betrayal.The man no one would ever love.
A bitter smile crept onto my face."If this is fate," I whispered, voice trembling, "then I'll rewrite it."
I looked up at the mirror again.Blue eyes stared back, not with despair, but with defiance.
"If the world wants a villain…" I said quietly,"I'll give them one—but on my terms."