"Ah yes… bask in my greatness."
A figure cloaked in black hovered above the lively city, arms spread wide against the moonlit sky. His mask gleamed white in the light, half-smile, half-grimace — like a jester who'd seen the joke of the world and decided to play along.
"Cool pose above the city, check. Awesome dialogue, check."
He raised his hand, palm open. A swirling mass of dark-blue energy sprang to life, unstable and brilliant enough to bathe the entire city in its hue, its hum crawling along the air. The people, gripped by terror, scattered; all eyes were fixed on the spectacle before them.
Someone whispered in utter dread, "It's him again—Night Fallen!"
"Crowd in panic, check. I think I've set the tone beautifully if I do say so myself."
He grinned beneath his mask. "And this—" He snapped his fingers. "—is the grand finale."
The sphere imploded in eerie silence, collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
Silence. The city held its breath.
"It's a wrap… and… cut."
He dropped the energy. It plummeted toward the city, raging and destructive, the masses frozen in terror, despair etched into their faces—then, just before impact, it erupted into a cascade of harmless light. When the glow faded, the masked figure was gone.
"Just kidding," his voice echoed through the streets. "It's all for aesthetics… after all, the show must go on."
*****
You're probably wondering what the hell is going on.
Well, let's rewind to my past life a bit, as boring as it was. Every awesome character needs at least a little backstory, right?
My life sucked ass.
I always wondered what it'd be like to live in a movie, or a webtoon, or a world where people actually had magic. But reality was cruel: think like that, and you're either childish… or need mental help.
Honestly? They were right. I fit both spectrums. I constantly yearned for that kind of life—a life that felt staged but real. A real performance where I could shine, with dedication and hard work, but most of all… a grand spectacle.
I wanted to be… an Anti-Hero.
But as you grow older, you realize such things will never be more than fantasy. Nothing but a pipe dream.
Still, there was this little hobby of mine that kept me sane, gambling. I never did it for money—okay, that's a lie. Of course I did it for money. But more than that, I did it for the rush.
And I don't mean the casino kind. I mean the kind you play on the streets, surrounded by hardened gangsters. The danger. The thrill. The tension of being one wrong move away from a knife in your ribs. I loved it.
But it wasn't enough, so then I tried acting. I figured it was the closest thing I'd get to being an Anti-Hero. But, unfortunately, not everyone is built for the Hollywood stage. Talent alone means nothing in most cases it's about who you know. Still, I believed in my craft.
But deep down, I knew no matter how many roles I played, no matter how loud the applause… it would never be the real thing. It was staged, but not real.
That was until that fateful day. That beautiful fateful day. When I hit it big in a gambling school, some punks decided to rob me. Of course, I wouldn't just take it lying down. I'm one for theatrics, after all, so naturally I fought back and I think one of them lost a few teeth.
Then… they beat me to a bloody pulp, took my "hard-earned" cash, and left me high and dry, grappling for my life.
There it was, that amazing puddle. I leaned over to check how bad my injuries were and then, the reflection turned black.
Then it spoke.
"Greetings, human. You have found me. Now that you have… do you wish to enter?"
I thought, surely I'd taken too many hits to the head and now a damn puddle is talking to me. But my desire, my curiosity, was unsustainable. At this point in my life, anything supernatural or magicy would've done. So I asked the puddle,
"Is there any magic or something in there?"
It spiraled open like a whirlpool, light bending into shadow.
'If that wasn't a yes, then I don't know what is', I thought to myself.
And that's when I knew the grand show I'd been yearning for was finally upon me. Without hesitation, I dove in.
"Damn," I muttered, "I should've at least written my family a letter or something… oh well, it is what it is. Mhe."