The crack in the floor did not lead to white.
It led to black.
Not darkness exactly—more like unfinished space. Raw. Unrendered. Like the world had run out of detail.
The percentage bar above her head froze at 73%.
Error.
Recalculating.
Narrative Instability Detected.
The male lead's grip on her wrist tightened.
"Don't look down," he said.
Of course she looked down.
Through the crack, she saw fragments—broken scenes flickering like damaged film.
A wedding hall.
A hospital corridor.
A rooftop at night.
Different versions of her.
Different chapters.
Some smiling. Some crying. Some—
Gone.
Her stomach twisted.
"How many times?" she whispered.
He didn't answer.
The classroom lights flickered violently. Half the students blurred into faceless shapes. The other half stared straight ahead, frozen but not fully paused—like background extras waiting for direction.
The comments above multiplied, faster now.
This is good.
Plot twist?
Wait is he self-aware too??
Don't mess it up.
Engagement Level: 75%.
The number rising felt like oxygen returning to her lungs.
"So that's the game," she murmured. "Entertain them. Stay alive."
"It's not that simple," he said sharply.
She pulled her wrist free.
"Then explain it."
His jaw tightened. For a moment, he looked less like a perfectly written male lead and more like someone exhausted.
"They don't delete boring characters immediately," he said. "They test them. Rewrite them. Push them into drama."
"And if that fails?"
"They escalate."
The black crack in the floor widened slightly.
Her heartbeat synced with the glitching system text.
System Stabilization in Progress.
Forcing Plot Correction.
The air shifted.
Suddenly, the classroom door slammed open.
A girl stood there.
Beautiful. Confident. Eyes sharp.
The second female lead.
In the original story, this was her entrance chapter. The moment the rival appeared. The moment tension was supposed to start.
But not like this.
Not during a glitch.
The rival's gaze locked onto her immediately.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Aware.
"You weren't supposed to change the sequence," the rival said calmly.
The world trembled again.
Her breath caught.
"You remember too," she said slowly.
The rival smiled faintly.
"We all remember," she replied. "The ones who matter."
Engagement Level: 79%.
Comments flooded the sky.
OH??
Is everyone self-aware now?
This is insane.
Okay I'm not dropping this.
Her pulse pounded.
More awareness meant more instability.
More instability meant—
More risk.
The rival stepped forward, heels clicking against a floor that wasn't fully solid.
"You pushed too early," she said quietly. "The system reacts aggressively to premature deviation."
"Stop talking like we're code," she snapped.
"We are code," the rival answered.
The words landed heavier than the deletion ever had.
The male lead moved slightly in front of her, protective instinct written into his posture.
"This isn't her fault," he said.
The rival's eyes flicked between them.
"You think this is about fault?" she asked softly. "It's about balance. The story needs tension. Conflict. Popularity spikes."
The percentage bar trembled.
80%.
The black crack beneath her feet pulsed.
She suddenly understood something terrifying.
"If engagement rises too fast," she said slowly, "they'll push harder."
"Yes," the rival said.
"And if it drops—"
"They delete you."
Silence.
The system text glitched violently.
Emergency Rewrite Protocol Initiated.
The rival's expression darkened.
"They're forcing an arc."
The classroom walls began dissolving—not into white, but into shifting scenes. Images overlapped chaotically.
Rain.
A hospital bed.
A confession under streetlights.
A betrayal.
"They're choosing high-impact drama," the male lead muttered.
The comments exploded above.
YES ANGST
Give us heartbreak
Don't make it cheap
Her stomach dropped.
"They want tragedy."
The rival nodded once.
"Tragedy sells."
The ground split wider.
She stumbled—but this time no one caught her.
The male lead reached—
Too late.
She fell through the crack.
But instead of nothingness, she landed on concrete.
Cold rain hit her face.
Streetlights flickered overhead.
The classroom was gone.
The rival was gone.
The male lead stood a few steps away, drenched, staring at her like he'd seen this exact scene before.
Of course he had.
This was the forced drama arc.
A memory surfaced.
This was the chapter where she confessed.
And he rejected her.
Publicly.
Humiliatingly.
Her chest tightened.
"They're pushing the heartbreak early," she said hoarsely.
He stepped closer, rain running down his face.
"If you follow the script, engagement stabilizes," he said. "You survive."
"And if I don't?"
His silence answered.
Above the stormy sky, faint text flickered again.
High Emotional Impact Event Loading.
She let out a shaky breath.
So this was the escalation.
No more quiet classroom.
No more soft buildup.
They wanted pain.
They wanted tears.
They wanted a moment readers would screenshot.
Fine.
She slowly stood, rain soaking through her clothes.
The male lead watched her carefully.
In the original version, this was where she confessed timidly.
Where she said she understood if he didn't feel the same.
Where she walked away quietly.
Safe.
Replaceable.
Deleted.
Not this time.
She looked straight at him.
Then at the invisible sky.
"You want drama?" she said softly.
Thunder cracked overhead.
Engagement Level: 83%.
Her lips curved slightly.
"I'll give you something worth watching."
The rain froze mid-air.
System Warning: Unpredictable Variable Detected.
For the first time—
The system sounded afraid.