Am I even Amaniel?
"..."
The question, simple and terrifying, echoed in my mind.
My hands were still frozen on the book, the smooth cover suddenly feeling alien and unfamiliar. It was a thought so monstrously simple, so obvious, that it had slipped past all my frantic deductions.
What if I wasn't the real Amaniel?
What if I was someone else entirely, a mind from a different world, now trapped inside this body?
What if Amaniel truly died, his life-force and consciousness snuffed out, and the words "I WILL die" weren't just about a sacrifice, but a literal, final end?
Did my consciousness simply replace his? Was he a soul that was extinguished to make room for mine? Was I... a parasite?
The horrifying possibilities unfolded like a grim tapestry, each thread more unsettling than the last.
If this was a "story," as the System seemed to suggest, was I just a convenient protagonist transmigrated to a new world to fill a vacant role? Was my very existence a cliche plot device?
