The first thing Lynx Brian felt was… wrong.
Not pain. Not exactly.
It was more like the memory of pain — the echo of something sharp tearing through his chest, of breath stolen mid-gasp. His mind swam in black water, heavy and sluggish, as if reality itself was reluctant to let him surface.
And then, sound.
A faint drip… drip… drip… somewhere above him.
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling wasn't his. In fact, it wasn't a ceiling at all — it was a vaulted canopy of carved obsidian stone, lined with silver runes that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. His heartbeat. He could feel it in his bones.
Slowly, Lynx sat up. His body felt both alien and powerful, like a suit of armor that had molded itself to his skin overnight. The sheets beneath him were silk — blood-red silk, cool to the touch. He glanced down. His hands were larger, paler, the veins faintly silver under the skin.
The moment he saw the silver ring on his left hand — a serpent devouring its own tail — his stomach dropped.
He knew this ring.
He wrote this ring.
No. No, no, no.
He swung his legs off the bed and caught sight of himself in the tall mirror across the room.
Jet-black hair, falling in slightly messy waves to his jawline. Deep grey eyes like storm clouds over steel. A face too perfect to be real — aristocratic, sharp, with the faintest smirk tugging at lips that weren't supposed to be his.
It was a face he had described in painstaking detail years ago, one that his readers had learned to hate before the end of chapter five.
Lord Lynx Brian.
Duke of the Blackspire.
Final villain of Ebon Throne.
The man he had killed with his own pen.
The weight of that realization settled cold in his chest.
In the novel, Lynx Brian was the pinnacle of power and cruelty — the tyrant whose empire was built on manipulation, blood, and the bones of heroes. He was fated to be betrayed, humiliated, and executed in the capital's public square by the hero, Cedric Dawncrest.
That execution was in…
Lynx's breath caught.
How long until then?
Before he could answer himself, something chimed in his head.
[System Initialization Complete.]
Welcome, Author Lynx Brian, to the Redemption Protocol.
First Quest: Survive for 72 hours.
Reward: Access to Character Modifications.
Failure: Permanent death.
A semi-transparent window hovered in the air before him, glowing faintly red. His hands twitched instinctively toward it, only for the screen to ripple like water under his fingers.
"Redemption Protocol…?" he muttered, voice deeper and smoother than his real one.
The interface pulsed again, lines of text scrolling across like a cruel smile:
Tip: The plot is already in motion. Every choice you make changes the story you wrote.
Be careful — someone else is still writing it.
Somewhere in the castle, a door slammed.
Footsteps echoed toward his chamber — deliberate, metallic, growing louder.
Lynx's pulse quickened. He knew exactly who this was.
In the original novel, the first visitor after Lynx's awakening was her — the woman who would one day put a blade through his ribs without hesitation.
Serenya Vaelith.
The Moonblade Saint.
One of the five heroines fated to destroy him.
Only now, she wasn't supposed to be here for another two chapters.
The door creaked open.
Light from the corridor spilled across the blood-red carpet, outlining the silhouette of a woman in silver armor. Every step she took rang out like a slow countdown, her polished boots clicking against the marble floor.
Serenya Vaelith.
Her hair was the first thing to catch his attention — a waterfall of moonlight silver that fell straight to her waist, catching the torchlight in a soft glow. Her eyes, a piercing icy blue, locked onto him instantly, sharp as a drawn blade. She didn't smile. She never smiled.
In the book, Lynx had written her as the perfect swordswoman: disciplined, unyielding, and utterly immune to charm. In his mind, she had been nothing more than an obstacle for the protagonist — a weapon given a name.
Now, standing in his bedroom doorway, she was alive. And worse, she was dangerous.
"Your Grace," she said, voice flat and cool. "You sent for me?"
Lynx froze. I sent for her?
No — in the original plot, Lynx never summoned her to his private chambers. He only encountered her later, during a political ceremony. If she was here now, it meant one thing: the plot was changing.
[System Notice: Unknown variables detected. Updating timeline…]
The text flickered briefly in the air, but Lynx forced his expression to remain composed. In the novel, Lynx Brian's greatest weapon wasn't his sword or his magic — it was his ability to lie so convincingly that even the truth sounded false.
"Yes," Lynx said smoothly, leaning back on the bed like a predator at ease. "Come in, Serenya."
She stepped inside, her gaze never leaving him. Her left hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword — a gesture so casual most would miss it. Lynx knew better. That hand was the difference between breathing and bleeding.
The moment she reached the foot of the bed, she spoke again.
"You've been… different lately," Serenya said, tone still flat but eyes narrowing. "Less cruel. Less… you."
That hit harder than it should have. In his own book, he'd made Lynx so infamously sadistic that even a flicker of kindness was enough to set people on edge. Now, he was playing a different game entirely — one where survival came first.
He offered her a faint, knowing smile. "Perhaps I've been reminded that there's more to power than fear."
A muscle twitched in her jaw. He could tell she wasn't convinced.
Before she could press further, the torchlight behind her dimmed.
Shadows deepened unnaturally.
Something moved in the far corner of the room.
Lynx's heart clenched.
That wasn't supposed to happen either.
In the story he'd written, there were assassins in the castle — but not tonight. Not until chapter four.
The shadow lengthened along the wall, silent as smoke. Serenya's hand tightened on her sword.
Then, without warning, she spun and drew her blade in one fluid motion.
A flash of silver.
A choked cry from the darkness.
The shadow detached from the wall, revealing a man dressed in black from head to toe, clutching a bleeding arm where Serenya's blade had slashed him.
"You brought company," Lynx murmured.
"I was about to say the same to you," Serenya replied, eyes still on the intruder.
The assassin tried to move, but Serenya's sword was already at his throat.
[System Update: Optional Side Quest Unlocked — "First Blood"]
Kill the intruder or let Serenya do it. Rewards vary.
Lynx stared at the floating text.
He had written hundreds of system mechanics for other characters before, but now they were aimed directly at him. And he didn't like the look of that reward clause — rewards vary was code for you won't like the alternative.
A plan was already forming in his mind.
The assassin's breathing was ragged. A thin stream of blood dripped from his sleeve to the carpet, staining the red silk like a darker shadow. His hood masked most of his face, but Lynx could see the glint of desperate eyes darting between them.
Serenya's sword never wavered. Her stance was balanced, precise — a duelist ready to kill without hesitation.
"Give me one reason not to end you now," she said to the intruder.
The assassin spat on the floor. "You're guarding a corpse that doesn't know it's dead."
Lynx tilted his head. That wasn't just an insult — it was a message. A warning that someone out there still saw him as the doomed villain from the novel's plotline.
[Side Quest Decision Required]
Option 1: Kill the intruder yourself. (+ Reputation for ruthlessness, + Shadow Affinity, unlocks "Blood Oath" skill)
Option 2: Let Serenya kill him. (+ Serenya trust, + Sword Affinity, unlocks "Moonlight Favor" skill)
Option 3: Spare him. (+ Hidden questline, unknown effects)
Lynx stared at the glowing menu. He had never liked railroaded choices when writing for his characters — but now, with his own life on the line, it was worse.
Each option came with strings attached.
Option 1 could make him more dangerous, but it would also reinforce his old cruel image.
Option 2 might earn Serenya's loyalty — vital if he wanted to survive long enough to change the plot — but it would show weakness to others.
Option 3… well, that was the sort of gamble that got authors called "sadists" in the comment section.
He glanced at Serenya. She was watching him now, not the assassin — waiting for his decision. In the book, Lynx was always decisive. Always the one to deal the killing blow himself.
But Lynx wasn't the same man he wrote.
"Lower your blade, Serenya," he said.
Her eyes narrowed. "You would spare him?"
"Not spare. Leash."
He stepped forward, ignoring the assassin's flinch, and knelt slightly so they were eye-level. The man smelled of sweat and smoke. Lynx smiled — the kind of slow, cold smile he'd written a thousand times before.
"You'll take a message to your employer," Lynx murmured. "Tell them the Duke of the Blackspire is not the man they think he is. Tell them… he's worse."
The assassin's breathing hitched. He nodded once — quick, jerky — and then bolted the moment Serenya stepped aside.
[Quest Complete: First Blood]
Reward: +10 Influence, Unlock Hidden Questline: "The Web Tightens"
Note: Your decision has altered Serenya's perception. Trust: +5, Suspicion: +3.
Serenya sheathed her sword, but her gaze lingered on him. "I don't understand your game, Lynx."
"Good," he said. "It's harder to kill someone when you don't understand them."
That earned him the faintest flicker of a smirk before she turned to leave.
When the door shut behind her, Lynx let out a slow breath. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding it.
He crossed to the window. The castle grounds stretched below — black spires jutting into a storm-laden sky, torchlight flickering along the outer walls. Somewhere beyond those walls lay the capital, and with it, the rest of the plot he had once controlled.
Now? The plot was a living thing. Breathing. Twisting. Watching him.
[Main Quest Update: Survive 71 Hours Remaining.]
Far away, in a candlelit chamber of the royal palace, a different pair of eyes watched him through a shimmering scrying crystal.
Princess Calista Wynvere — golden-haired, emerald-eyed, dressed in a scarlet gown that clung to her every curve — leaned forward in her chair, lips curling in a smile that was both warm and dangerous.
"My, my," she murmured, voice honey over steel. "The Duke is… changing."
She turned to the cloaked figure standing in the shadows. "Send word to Vara. Tell her our little game just became far more interesting."
End of Chapter 1
Next Chapter Preview:
Lynx receives his first system shop access — but every skill comes with a hidden price. Meanwhile, Vara Nyx, the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, gets her orders to make contact… and she never comes quietly.
CTA:
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