Chapter 3 — A Role He Wasn't Given
Andrew didn't sleep.
He lay awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling while faint golden lines flickered at the edges of his vision.
They weren't constant.
They pulsed.
As if reality itself had a heartbeat.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw fragments of what he had touched the night before—
A Gate tearing open near the old subway terminal. Students screaming. A horned creature emerging from black mist. Daniel arriving in radiant light. Perfect timing. Perfect escalation. Perfect hero moment.
Scripted.
Balanced.
Contained.
Andrew sat up slowly.
"If I do nothing," he muttered to himself, "everything plays out the way it's supposed to."
No unnecessary deaths. No chaos outside projected limits. No deviation.
Safe.
Safe for everyone.
Including him.
He stared at his hands.
They were normal again.
No golden veins. No glow. No visible power.
If he hadn't seen the threads, he might've convinced himself it was hallucination.
But he had seen them.
He had touched them.
And they had reacted.
His chest tightened slightly.
Why him?
He wasn't selected.
He wasn't ranked.
He wasn't important.
Unless—
Unless the reason he had no class was because he wasn't meant to have one.
He exhaled sharply.
"Stop."
He was spiraling.
There was a simpler question in front of him.
Would he interfere?
Or would he watch?
By noon, the atmosphere in the city felt strained.
Police presence had increased. Military trucks moved in quiet convoys. News anchors spoke in cautious optimism.
The first domestic Gates had appeared in other regions earlier that morning.
Most were low-level. Handled quickly by awakened individuals.
The world was adapting faster than expected.
Andrew stood near the entrance of the abandoned subway terminal.
The location from his vision.
He had skipped school.
No one would question it.
Attendance rules meant little on the first day of an apocalypse.
The air felt thick.
Like humidity before a storm.
He glanced around.
A few pedestrians walked nearby, unaware.
A couple of students from his school were cutting through the area, laughing nervously about yesterday's awakenings.
He recognized one of them.
Mira Kade.
C-rank Spatial Mage.
He remembered seeing her class flash across her screen in the courtyard.
She was walking with two friends, animatedly explaining how her mana felt when she focused.
Andrew's stomach dropped.
This was it.
The timing aligned.
He felt it before he saw it.
A vibration beneath the ground.
Low.
Rhythmic.
The golden threads flickered faintly at the edges of his sight.
Converging.
Weaving together.
A circular distortion formed midair near the subway entrance.
Pedestrians froze.
Someone screamed.
The distortion split open.
Black mist spilled outward like smoke from a ruptured lung.
The Gate had opened.
Everything slowed.
Andrew's vision sharpened unnaturally.
Threads became clearer.
He saw one wrapped tightly around Mira.
Another connecting to the Gate's core.
Another stretching far into the distance—
Toward Daniel.
Daniel was moving.
He felt it.
Radiance gathering.
Preparing for an entrance.
Andrew's heart pounded.
Badump. Badump. Badump.
This was the scene.
Minor chaos. Hero arrives. Monster defeated. Public reassurance restored.
Safe.
Controlled.
Predictable.
The first creature emerged.
Tall. Hunched. Its skin looked like molten stone cracking with red light beneath.
B-rank, just like the vision.
Civilians scattered.
Mira instinctively formed a shaky spatial barrier in front of her friends.
The creature roared and slammed into it.
The barrier fractured immediately.
She stumbled back.
Andrew's breath hitched.
The threads tightened.
Daniel's thread burned brighter.
Arrival imminent.
Andrew stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed an invisible threshold—
Something inside him pulsed violently.
The golden droplet in his chest ignited faintly.
Pain lanced through his ribs.
The threads around him trembled.
Narrative Deviation Probability Rising.
The creature raised its clawed arm.
Mira's barrier shattered completely.
She fell backward onto the pavement.
This was the moment Daniel would appear.
In three seconds.
Andrew moved.
He didn't think.
He didn't strategize.
He simply ran.
The world resisted.
That was the only way to describe it.
The air felt thicker. His limbs heavier. Like pushing through water.
The threads around him tightened further, trying to maintain structure.
His vision blurred—
Then sharpened again.
Golden veins flashed beneath his skin.
He reached for the thread connected to the creature.
It burned when he grabbed it.
Visions flooded his mind—
The monster's movements. Its weak point. The exact angle Daniel would strike.
Andrew pulled.
Not hard.
Just enough.
A subtle tug.
The thread shifted slightly.
The creature's arm faltered mid-swing.
Just a fraction off its intended arc.
Andrew grabbed Mira by the collar and yanked her sideways.
The claw slammed into concrete instead of bone.
Shock rippled through the scene.
Time snapped back to full speed.
Andrew stumbled, nearly collapsing.
His lungs burned as if he'd sprinted miles.
The creature turned toward him now.
The threads flared violently.
Daniel's arrival thread flickered.
Delayed.
Not erased.
Just… off-beat.
Andrew's eyes widened.
"I changed it."
The realization was dizzying.
He had shifted timing.
A fraction of a second.
But enough.
The creature lunged toward him.
Andrew reacted instinctively.
He reached again—
Not at the monster.
At the space beside it.
He tugged a nearby thread connected to unstable debris.
The subway entrance sign above them snapped loose and crashed down.
The impact staggered the creature.
Andrew hit the ground hard, rolling away.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
The golden veins pulsed brighter now.
The pressure in his skull intensified.
Narrative Instability Escalating.
Corrective Measures Initiating.
A burst of radiant light erupted behind him.
Daniel had arrived.
But not perfectly.
Not center-stage.
He landed slightly off-position.
His strike, meant to be clean and heroic, clipped the creature's shoulder instead of its core.
Daniel blinked, adjusting mid-combat.
The monster roared, enraged.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Andrew felt it.
The script was scrambling.
Daniel fought skillfully—fluid, controlled—but the rhythm was off.
Less cinematic.
More chaotic.
Mira crawled backward, staring at Andrew with confusion.
"You— you pulled me—"
He ignored her.
His head throbbed.
Every deviation hurt.
Not physically alone—
Existentially.
As if reality objected to his presence.
Daniel finally pierced the monster's core after a prolonged struggle.
The creature dissolved into ash.
Silence fell.
Civilians slowly emerged from hiding.
Phones raised.
Recording.
Daniel stood in the aftermath, breathing heavily.
Less composed than yesterday.
More human.
Andrew remained seated on cracked pavement, pulse racing.
The threads around him were frayed now.
Shaken.
But not broken.
Daniel's gaze shifted.
It landed on Andrew.
For a brief moment—
Their eyes met.
No recognition.
No revelation.
Just curiosity.
"Are you okay?" Daniel asked, stepping closer.
Andrew hesitated.
"…Yeah."
Daniel glanced at the fallen sign, at Mira, at the altered environment.
Something didn't add up.
But he didn't question it aloud.
"Good," Daniel said quietly. "Stay behind next time. It's dangerous."
Next time.
As if scenes like this would repeat.
As if the world had assigned him a permanent role.
Andrew almost laughed.
Stay behind.
Background character advice.
He nodded instead.
Daniel turned toward arriving authorities.
Cameras swarmed him.
Reporters shouted questions.
The narrative corrected itself as best it could.
Hero victorious.
Public reassured.
But something subtle had changed.
The fight had been messy.
Unpolished.
Human.
Andrew slowly stood.
Mira approached cautiously.
"You moved before it hit me," she said. "How did you—?"
"Luck," he replied.
It wasn't entirely a lie.
He walked away before she could ask more.
Each step felt heavier.
The golden veins faded gradually.
The pressure in his chest dulled.
But the knowledge remained.
He could pull.
Not destroy.
Not dominate.
Just… interfere.
Small shifts.
Tiny distortions.
He had stepped into a scene not meant for him.
And the world hadn't collapsed.
Not yet.
Far beyond Earth—
A fluctuation registered again.
Deviation Confirmed.
Source: Unregistered Variable.
Main Candidate Performance Efficiency: -3.2%
Initiating Surveillance Protocol.
The golden threads across Earth tightened imperceptibly.
Correcting.
Compensating.
Watching.
And Andrew Wilson—
For the first time in his life—
Had taken a role he wasn't given.
End of Chapter 3