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Chapter 12 - The Protagonist’s Shadow

The plaza had collapsed into rubble, but somehow Kael Arathis stood at its center as if it were a throne room.

Guild envoys flanked him. Survivors huddled at his feet. Even the air seemed to bend in his favor, as though the system itself approved of his existence.

And why wouldn't it? He had the title. The glory. The killing blow that ended the Boss.

Kael Arathis: Hero of the First Hour.

Me?

I sat on a broken bench, nose still bleeding from the backlash, ignored by most except Dev—who hovered like a nervous little brother, passing me a rag to mop the blood.

The survivors whispered when they thought I wasn't listening.

"That's the bug…""The gods wanted him deleted.""Why is he still alive?"

Every glance was a mixture of fear and curiosity. Not worship. Not trust. Just the uneasy awareness that I shouldn't exist.

A Hero belonged.A Bug lingered.

Then Mirae's voice rang out, too loud, too smug, cutting through the tension like a broadcast siren.

"WELL, viewers, what did I tell you? Every apocalypse needs its shiny Hero… and its mysterious side character!"

The lens of her dimensional broadcast drone zoomed first onto Kael—tall, proud, sunlight bending to kiss his armor. Perfect lighting. Perfect posture. A man sculpted by fate.

Then the lens swung toward me.

Bruised. Nose crooked from a break that hadn't healed right. Blood smeared down my chin like war paint.

"Ah yes," Mirae purred, "our dear Lone Quill. The shadow in the corner. The one everyone whispers about when they think he isn't listening. Don't worry, Quill, I'll give you a filter next time."

The dimensional chat exploded.

"LMFAOOOO side character energy.""Hero and his emo rival 💀.""Nah, Bug's more interesting. Protagonist's shadow >>> bland Hero.""100% betting Shadow Quill stabs Hero later. Clip me if I'm right.""CALLING IT NOW—he's the DLC character. They won't delete him.""Hero = free trial. Bug = premium content."

I muttered under my breath, "Can I sue for defamation?"

The system chimed unhelpfully.

[The gods laugh at your suffering.]

Kael didn't acknowledge me directly. Not even a nod. But his silence spoke volumes.

He knew I had interfered in the fight. He knew I had power that shouldn't exist. And yet, instead of confronting me, he simply let me sit in the shadows.

Because maybe that was where I belonged.

The Hero stood in the light.And me? I was the ink spilling just behind him.

The Rewrite window flickered faintly in front of me, lines crawling across my vision.

[Sentence: Ishaan Reed faded into obscurity, a forgotten side character.]

[Rewrite? (Y/N)]

I stared at it. My thumb hovered over the option.

And for the first time, I didn't slam Y immediately.

Because maybe—just maybe—being forgotten was safer.

Invisible meant unbothered.Overlooked meant untouched.Shadows weren't hunted the same way Heroes were worshipped—or killed.

But then I smirked, bloody lips curling upward despite the ache in my jaw.

"No. Shadows aren't forgotten. They just wait."

I pressed Y.

[Sentence: Ishaan Reed embraced the shadows, waiting for his chance to write.]

The system's cold tone shifted, subtle, like an afterthought turning into attention.

[Title Progression: ??? unlocked.]

The gods stirred.

[A God of Stories whispers: "The shadow writes too."][A Trickster God laughs: "Ohhh, spicy."][A Goddess of Mercy murmurs: "…then perhaps he was not born a mistake."][Unknown Origin: "…Good."]

A chill rolled down my spine.

Not because I was afraid.

But because—for the first time—I realized I didn't have to outshine Kael.

I just had to rewrite what came after him.

Mirae gasped dramatically into the feed, clutching her chest like an actress mid-tragedy.

"Ohhh viewers, did you see that? Did you see that little flicker? Our bug isn't just surviving—he's leveling."

The chat surged again, claws and teeth hidden behind text.

"HE'S EVOLVING, BOYS.""Bug patch failed, he's climbing the ranks.""I'm switching teams. Shadow Quill supremacy.""Nah, nah, Hero > Bug. Bugs get squashed.""Cope harder. That Rewrite power's busted. Hero's on borrowed time."

I wanted to snap back. To throw words sharper than my pen-blade.

But instead, I just let the blood drip and smiled faintly.

Because they didn't know.

They didn't know what it cost every time I pressed Rewrite.

The survivors edged closer to Kael, away from me. He comforted them with firm nods, quiet strength. His words were iron wrapped in silk.

"You're safe now.""The worst has passed.""Together, we endure."

And the people believed him.

Why wouldn't they? He looked like salvation carved into human form.

Meanwhile, Dev shifted nervously beside me, whispering, "Ishaan… they'll never accept you, you know that, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"I don't mean it like that. I mean… they're scared of you. You keep breaking the script. Even the gods don't agree if you should exist."

"…And you?" I asked quietly.

Dev swallowed, then gave me a shaky grin. "I don't care if you're a bug or a glitch. You saved me. That's enough."

For a second, I almost believed him.

But the whispers of gods, survivors, and audience alike made it hard to forget.

The ruins trembled as system text appeared above us, visible to all.

[Notice: Dimensional Trial - Phase Two will commence shortly.][Participants are advised to prepare.]

The air grew taut, like a page pulled tight before ink spilled across it.

The survivors gasped. Kael lifted his blade, determination etched across his perfect jawline.

And me?

I stared at the floating text until my own Rewrite prompt bled over it.

[Sentence: The Hero carried the story into Phase Two.]

A cruel little sentence.

I smirked.

"No. That's not how this story goes."

I pressed Y.

[Sentence: The Shadow carried ink into Phase Two, ready to stain the pages the Hero walked upon.]

The text trembled. A faint line of static buzzed.

For a heartbeat, I swore I heard a chuckle—soft, feminine, sly.

The God of Stories.

Kael raised his sword high as the survivors cheered. Mirae's broadcast painted him in glory.

And in the corner of every frame… I bled quietly, smirking through broken teeth, ink and shadow curling faintly around my hands.

If I can't be the Hero…I'll be the one who rewrites the Hero's story.

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