My name is Ethan Cruz. Fourteen years old. High school student. Normal life.
At least… that's what I thought.
If you asked anyone about me, they'd say I was average. Average grades, average looks, average height. The kind of kid you'd pass by in the hallway and forget about two seconds later. I wasn't a delinquent, but I wasn't a genius either. Just… normal.
But I had one best friend who wasn't normal—Lucas Reyes.
Lucas was the type who believed he was destined to be special. While the rest of us spent our days playing games or worrying about exams, he was always scribbling away in his notebooks, creating some "masterpiece novel" that he swore would one day be famous.
His obsession? A fantasy epic he called The Hero's Chronicle.
He wouldn't stop talking about it. At lunch, he'd ramble about his main character, a boy named Arin Solas, chosen by fate to save the world. On the way home, he'd lecture me about his villains—how they represented greed, corruption, and weakness. And every time he finished a chapter, he'd shove his notebook in my face, demanding feedback.
"Come on, Ethan, read it. Tell me what you think. Isn't it awesome?"
Most of the time, I just nodded along. I mean, I didn't want to crush his dreams. But honestly? It was exhausting.
"You spend more time on your fake world than in the real one," I'd tell him.
And he'd always reply with that smug grin of his.
"Because one day, Ethan, my world will outlive this boring reality."
…Yeah. He actually said stuff like that.
That night, everything started with one of his notebooks.
It was late, the streetlights buzzing faintly as I walked home. Lucas had lent me his newest chapters—well, "lent" was generous. He practically forced them into my hands after school.
"Just read it, alright? You'll change your mind about Damian this time," he'd said, grinning like a maniac.
Damian Verlice. The so-called villain of his story. A noble who bullied the hero, tormented the weak, and acted like the world belonged to him. In Lucas's outline, Damian was destined to die by the hero's sword in Chapter 10.
I flipped through the pages as I walked, the words illuminated by the glow of the nearest lamp.
"…and Damian sneered, unaware this would be his last night alive. Tomorrow, the Hero would end his tyranny."
I snorted. "What a cliché. The bad guy dies early, hero gets stronger, happily ever after. Typical Lucas."
I was about to close the notebook when a thought crossed my mind.
What if I were Damian? Would I really act that stupidly cruel? Wouldn't I at least try to survive?
I chuckled at the absurd idea and muttered, "Well, sucks to be you, Damian. You didn't even make it past ten chapters."
And then—
SCREECH!
My head whipped up. A blinding light swallowed my vision.
A horn blared. My body froze.
Impact. Pain. And then—silence.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't lying on the cold asphalt.
I was sitting upright. In a carriage. A luxurious one, with red velvet seats and golden trim, the kind you'd only see in period dramas. My heart hammered against my chest as my gaze darted around.
"What the… where…?"
I reached up and froze. My hands weren't mine. They were pale, slender, the nails neatly trimmed, like they belonged to someone who'd never lifted a grocery bag in his life.
Shaking, I looked toward the window. My reflection stared back.
A boy. Sharp, defined features. Jet-black hair tied neatly behind his head. Cold, almost arrogant eyes that seemed to pierce through the glass. A noble's face.
I knew this face. I had seen Lucas's character sketches a hundred times.
"…Damian Verlice."
The words left my mouth in a whisper, but they felt heavy, final.
I wasn't dreaming.
I wasn't hallucinating.
I had been reborn—inside Lucas's novel.
And not as the hero. Not even as a side character.
I was the villain.
"No, no, no. This isn't real." I pinched my arm hard. The sting made me flinch. "Ow. Damn it."
The carriage jolted to a stop. Outside, I heard voices.
"Young Master Damian, we've arrived at the academy."
The door swung open. A butler in a crisp black suit bowed low. His expression was polite, but his eyes held a flicker of disdain.
Because in the story, nobody liked Damian. Not his servants. Not his classmates. Not even his family.
My throat went dry. I knew exactly what was happening.
This was the opening scene of The Hero's Chronicle. Chapter 1: The Academy of Fates.
In Lucas's novel, Damian enters the academy, bullies the hero, and sets the stage for his downfall. Ten chapters later, he's dead.
And now I was him.
Panic surged through me. My mind spun.
"This… this has to be a nightmare. Right? Right?"
But the cobblestone streets outside looked too real. The chatter of passing students, the creak of carriage wheels, the faint smell of baked bread from a nearby stall—all of it was alive.
Too real to be fake.
I stumbled out of the carriage, nearly tripping over the step. The butler gave me a strange look, but didn't comment.
Ahead loomed the academy gates. Tall, iron-wrought, decorated with glowing runes. Beyond them, towers stretched into the sky, windows gleaming like jewels in the sunlight.
Students in crisp uniforms streamed through the gates, laughing, chatting, alive with excitement. Some glanced at me—and then quickly looked away, whispering.
I didn't need to hear their words. I already knew.
"That's Damian Verlice."
"Arrogant noble."
"Stay away from him."
In Lucas's novel, Damian had a reputation before he even arrived. Cruel. Prideful. Hated.
My hands clenched into fists.
I wanted to scream. To demand why it was me. Why I had to be the villain.
But deep down, I already knew the truth.
Because Lucas wrote it that way.
And now, I was trapped inside his story.
As I walked through the academy gates, a thought drilled into my head.
If I follow the story, I'll be dead in ten chapters.
The hero would kill me, the students would cheer, and Damian Verlice would be erased—just as Lucas intended.
But I wasn't Damian. I wasn't some cardboard villain destined to die.
I was Ethan Cruz.
And I wasn't about to let some stupid novel decide my fate.
If the world wanted me to play the villain… then fine.
I'd play the role. But on my terms.
And this time, Damian Verlice would not die in Chapter 10.
This time, I would rewrite the story.