The first thing Dorian Thorn felt wasn't the pain, it was the bone chilling realization that he couldn't do anything.
He was too weak. The Aettis bridge screamed as metal scraped against metal, Dorian could feel his muscles tearing, the F-class mana veins on his arms turning blue as he held back the rope still holding the bridge together.
He had to save them, he was the only one standing between hundreds of refugees —including his family— and the Ice choked maw of the Aettis river.
"Hold it…just a little longer." Dorian could feel his feet slipping, the weight of the falling bridge dragging him towards the river. And then he felt the steel, it was cold at first, and then a strange surge of warmth built in his chest.
Dorian looked up, blinking away the rain droplets from his eyelashes.
Silas stood over him, armoured and calm. A glowing S-Rank Sigil on his chest as he stared at his sword buried in Dorian's chest.
"The world doesn't need a martyr, Dorian," Silas whispered into his ear as blood bubbled from the side of Dorian's mouth.
"Why?...Why do this?" Dorian managed to ask in between his gasps.
"The world needs tragedy. And your family's Void Core... it's wasted on F-Class trash like you."
Silas twisted the blade.
With a final, agonizing groan, the bridge gave way. Dorian fell, the sound of his mother's screams and the roar of the river swallowing him whole.
If there is a God, Dorian thought as the icy water filled his lungs, let me come back. Not to save them, but to watch them burn.
[CRITICAL DAMAGE DETECTED.]
[HEART OF THE MARTYR: BROKEN.]
[INITIATING ANTAGONIST'S PARADOX PROTOCOL...]
[SYNCHRONIZING... 100%.]
"Dorian! Dorian, wake up."
Dorian bolted from the bed, his momentum pushing him to the floor. He blinked, taking in the room, he was back in the manor, he was in his room.
He wasn't drowning, he wasn't bleeding. He felt his chest, no injury. He staggered towards the mirror, gasping in surprise when he saw his reflection, he looked younger.
[Ding! Welcome, Host.]
[The 'Antagonist's Paradox' System is now active.]
[Current Status: The Fool who Died for Nothing.]
[New Objective: Survive. Destroy. Reign.]
Dorian flinched at the transparent screen that appeared, floating before him. He tried to poke it, marveling when his hands went through. Was this real? An illusion? A dying hallucination? Dorian reached out again, his fingers trailing through the violet light of the screen. "Is this... my life flashing before my eyes?" he whispered.
[Ding!]
[Clarification: You are not dying. You are being 'Optimized'.]
[Current Reality: Verified. Year: 1042 of the Solar Era.]
He froze. 1042? That was ten years ago. He was twenty again. Before the war, before the fall of House Thorne... and before he had ever met Silas.
[Notice: The Host's heart rate is dangerously high. Would you like to view your 'Inadequacies' to stabilize your focus?]
"My... what?"
[Loading Status Window…]
[STATUS WINDOW: DORIAN THORNE]
Level: 1 | Mana Rank: F (Defective)
Chaos Points: 0 | Life Timer: 10 minutes.
[PRIMARY STATS]
Strength: 8 (Pathetic)
Agility: 10 (Average)
Intelligence: 28 (Relic of a Past Life)
Vitality: 6 (CRITICAL - Body Rejecting Void)
Charisma: 45 (Wicked Beauty)
[UNIQUE SKILL]
Void Heart (Rank EX - Sealed): A heart that produces nothing but consumes everything.
Dorian stared at the word 'Pathetic' next to the strength stat. Even in a dream he was pathetic.
[Notice: The Host is encouraged to stop feeling 'Shame' and start feeling 'Spite'. Spite is much more fuel-efficient.]
"Dorian! Don't make me come up there!" his mother's voice snapped him back to reality. His Mom…she was still alive, still breathing.
Dorian ran for the door, his heart pounding in anticipation. They weren't dead, they were ali—
[WARNING: Heroic Impulse Detected.]
[Life Timer: 08:42... 08:41...]
[Notice: Sentimentality is a luxury you cannot afford. To sustain the 'Void Heart', you must harvest Chaos.]
A new prompt flickered over his vision, the violet colour of the system bleeding into red.
[MISSION: Break the Cycle.]
[Requirement: Defy the expectations of the 'Good Son'.]
[Reward: 100 Chaos Points / +24 Hours of Life.]
[Failure: Paradox Collapse (Death).]
Dorian stopped running, +24 hours? He remembered seeing 10 minutes left before. Was this a joke? Why would he listen to some floating interface?
Dorian's hand hovered inches from the brass doorknob. He almost laughed, he had just escaped a watery grave; he wasn't about to let a hallucination tell him how to treat his own mother.
"Shut up," he hissed at the air. "I don't care about your points."
He gripped the handle to pull the door open, ready to see his mother's face—
[Penalty Triggered: 'The Phantom Drowning'.]
Suddenly, the air in the hallway didn't enter his lungs. Dorian's eyes bulged as his throat constricted, his body convinced it was submerged in the freezing Aettis river. The smell of salt and the taste of iron flooded his senses. His legs gave out, and he hit the carpeted floor with a muffled thud, clawing at his neck.
"I... can't.."
[Life Timer: 07:15... 07:14...]
[Notice: 'Existence' is a privilege, not a right. Choose: Die as a loving son in seven minutes, or live as a monster.]
"Dorian?" His mother's footsteps stopped right outside the door. "I hear you thumping around in there, if you've broken another training dummy out of frustration, your father will have your head. Open this door."
The panic in Dorian's chest wasn't just from the lack of air anymore. It was the realization that the System was real, it was cruel, and it owned him.
He forced himself to his knees, his face pale and sweating. The "Phantom Drowning" receded just enough for him to wheeze, but the cold remained in his marrow.
Watch them burn, he had thought as he died on the bridge.
The System wasn't asking him to be evil for no reason. It was holding him to his own dying wish.
Dorian stood up, his legs shaking as he fixed his gaze on a heavy porcelain vase sitting on a marble pedestal next to the door. It was a handcrafted piece from the Eastern Isles, a gift his mother had given him to celebrate his admission into the local academy—back when she still had hope he would be a great mage.
It was the only thing in the room he actually cared about.
I'm sorry, Mother, he thought, his vision swimming with violet light as the timer hit the six-minute mark.
"Dorian! I'm counting to three!"
"I'm coming, Mother," he called out, but the voice that left his throat wasn't the gentle, obedient tone she was used to.
As the doorknob began to turn from the outside, Dorian didn't reach out to help her. Instead, he put his shoulder into the marble pedestal.
With a sickening, heavy crash, the vase shattered against the floorboards, exploding into a thousand white shards just as the door swung open.
His mother, Lady Elena Thorne, stood in the doorway. She was just as beautiful as he remembered—sharp cheekbones, silver-spun hair, and eyes that usually held a soft, worried glow. But now, those eyes were wide with shock, looking from the wreckage on the floor up to her son.
Dorian didn't apologize, he didn't flinch. He stepped over the largest shard, his boots grinding the porcelain into dust.
"You're late, Mother," Dorian said, his voice flat and devoid of the warmth he had felt just moments ago. "And your shouting is giving me a headache, clean this up and tell Father I'll be down when I feel like it."
[Ding! Chaos Act Confirmed: Shattering the Bond of Obedience.]
[Reward: 100 Chaos Points.]
[Life Timer: 23:59:59... 23:59:58...]
The silence in the hallway was absolute. Lady Elena's hand flew to her mouth, her breath hitching. "Dorian! What have you done?"
Dorian felt a pang of agony in his chest that no System could cause, but as the "Phantom Drowning" fully vanished, replaced by a surge of dark, intoxicating
power, he knew there was no going back.
He had traded his soul for twenty-four hours. And he intended to make them count.