Chapter 4
The child—weak and alone—walked a long path toward a power that surpassed the gods, defeating ten main antagonists across six arcs that formed the foundation of the story.
Theo knew every detail of that struggle, understood how this world worked, and knew what awaited in each stage—but that knowledge was no longer an advantage. It had become a burden.
He was living inside a story that should have ended when the game credits stopped rolling.
What confused him the most was something he could never understand, even before this world swallowed his reality.
All ten main antagonists in Flo Viva Mythology—the great enemies meant to symbolize evil, destruction, and the untamed will of the universe—were always represented as women.
There was no logical explanation, no sufficient narrative reason.
Perhaps it was aesthetic, perhaps a symbol of balance, or perhaps a hidden message from something far greater than himself as a writer.
But now, when the game world had become reality, that mystery felt like a threat waiting at the edge of consciousness—as if those antagonists had never truly been characters in a story, but fragments of a reality that had been rewriting itself since the beginning.
'Some scenarios in this first arc haven't happened yet. That means the invasion of the ten main antagonists hasn't begun.If the order remains the same, then the next major threat comes from—'
Whooosh!
'It feels as though I'm rewriting the world's history without any script to follow.To continue this journey, I must find the answers to things unrecorded by history, to events that never existed, and to those that should never be allowed to happen.'
Tssrreeek!
"Hurry here, Erietta Bathee?"
"...."
Forgetting everything—that the world had changed, that Earth was now just a legend in a story he once wrote—Theo kept writing.
Under the dim, fading light, his fingers danced across worn paper, tracing words that seemed desperate to reject this new reality.
Every letter felt like a spell, every sentence a prayer for reality to once again submit to logic.
But amidst the rustling air that carried the damp scent of foreign soil and the whispers of a world no longer his, Theo failed to notice that something was shifting behind his gaze.
A silence too perfect replaced the sound of the pen—and from the shadows, someone appeared.
She stood before Theo, not making the slightest sound.
The girl stared at the writer with eyes as clear and cold as glass that knew no reflection of emotion.
Erietta Bathee—the name that should have existed only behind a screen—now stood before him, demanding an existence that no human reason could explain.
Her hair flowed long, a fresh green like grass newly kissed by morning rain, each strand reflecting its own faint light.
Her skin—white, spotless, without hue—was a purity not of this world.
There was an eternal stillness wrapped around her, as though even the air refused to disturb her presence.
Theo froze.
The world around him, already beyond humanity, suddenly felt more real simply because of her presence.
He knew exactly who Erietta Bathee was—the supporting character of Ilux Rediona, the orphan who would grow to shake the world.
In the game, Erietta was the loyal guardian, the emotionless witness, the right hand that never hesitated.
Theo had written her as a symbol of soulless perfection—a paradox both magnificent and terrifying.
But now, seeing Erietta standing just a few steps away, Theo felt something different.
What he sensed was clarity.
'Their creations now live with lives not given by their creators.'
Erietta said nothing.
Her eyes were empty yet sharp.
Her lips closed, holding something the world had yet to express.
She looked at Theo as though her gaze pierced through his body, tracing the veins of consciousness behind his bewildered face.
The wind stopped blowing, the pen stopped moving, and time—for a moment—froze.
Only Theo's heartbeat echoed, faint yet clear, reminding him that amidst a reality stolen by another's creation, he was still human.
And before that human stood Erietta Bathee—proof that the boundary between fiction and reality had vanished, and the world now lived by its own will.
"It seems I'm beginning to understand why this world can't escape irony.More than that, it's a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Bathee."
'The gold of Flo Viva Mythology… feels more real than my drowsiness in the old world.'
"Ridiculous."
"Let go of your shame.
And once again, thank you for your generosity.
You have no idea how valuable your kindness is to someone who doubts his own existence."
"I choose to ignore it."
Without pause, without sound, Erietta Bathee raised her hand—her movements light and precise, like a machine that knew no hesitation.
Two small sacks floated in the air, faintly reflecting the dusty light filtering through the warehouse window.
The gesture was simple, yet among the drifting motes of dust, those sacks appeared as symbols of a world that had fully surrendered to absurdity—holy currency that once held value only behind the screen, now hovering in a reality that no longer recognized the divide between data and flesh.
Theo, guided by instincts honed through thousands of hours of gameplay and storytelling, extended his hands without hesitation, catching them as if his body had already been programmed to understand their meaning.
Both sacks now rested before his chest, real in his grasp.
They were not heavy, yet the jingling inside resonated oddly within his mind.
Once, in the real world, currency was nothing more than numbers and systems—but here, these two small sacks seemed to breathe with life itself.
Theo gazed at them intently, tracing the coarse fabric tied with black string.
There was a scent of soil mixed with dried blood—the scent of a world no longer human.
Slowly, Theo felt something crawling along his skin, a warm, living energy creeping from the sacks into his veins, coursing toward his heart.
Then Theo stood.
Slowly, but firmly.
His posture straightened beneath the dim light, casting a long shadow across the cracked wall.
A smile formed—but it wasn't a human smile of gratitude.
It was a smile born from strangeness—from the tension between awareness and madness, between gratitude and the temptation of power.
His gaze shimmered, and in that moment, Theo was no longer the lost writer in someone else's game world—but something new, something born from the accident of the universe itself.
He opened his lips, forming gentle words of thanks, but within his tone lingered a bitterness that words could not explain.
'Thanks to the creation—or to fate itself—for twisting everything into a living script.'
Erietta responded faintly.
Until then, she had only stood there, still and unchanged.
But if one looked closely, her eyes reflected something.
Perhaps the gleam of the sacks in Theo's hands, or perhaps something much deeper.
'Erietta Bathee is truly insufferable.
If there were a ranking for the most agonizing character in Flo Viva Mythology, she'd be the undisputed champion.
Imagine this—I, Theo Vkytor, a writer from a normal world, now cursed to live as Eshura Birtash.
Eshura, who in the early arc was nothing more than a background nuisance in Ilux Rediona's story.
Eshura, the greedy, woman-obsessed traitor who sold Ilux to a deadly realm no Human Change could ever reach.'
To be continued…