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A twisted smile pulled at my lips as I leaned back in my chair, fingers drumming lazily against the edge of my sleek, obsidian desk.
I was happy.
My long black hair, slightly disheveled, fell over my forehead, partially covering my sharp, black eyes.
A faint glow from the massive screen before me cast eerie shadows across my wheatish skin, highlighting the sharp features of my face.
And oh, what a glorious sight I was witnessing—
The character I loved the most, Noah~
He stood amidst the carnage of his latest kill, his chest heaved and his hazel eyes gleaming with something… unholy.
Blood stained his hands, dripping down his fingers but instead of wiping them of he just smeared it along the lines of his face.
Kek*
Hehehe
This was development.
I was one of the only Being who had been selected as a "God Candidate" from the lower worlds—
This was my story.
All of these gods, dieties and even authors working in this office beside me? They were all Old Gods.
You guessed it right, these people had been here from the start, creating worlds and stories to keep the balance of the world.
Well, it had been eons now since an Old Age God created a new world.
That was why Williamloh, the manager of all the god’s around here roamed through the lower worlds to find a new candidate.
A new intern, really.
I had gone through tough times.
There was a time when I myself was just a boy who liked reading fantasy novels on hus freetime at home.
Well, that was until the apocalypse came and changed the world to how it was.
I had climbed my way up the ladder with my special ability, magic pen.
I could change the codes of this universe at my will now.
Back then, it wasn’t this overpowered but I could still change the attributes of any person I liked… or hated obviously.
This pen was exactly what had gained Williamloh’s interest and helped me become an employee here.
Everyone here was a God.
But I?
I was still only an intern, teetering on the edges of a demi-god.
And the goals that I needed to complete to become a real GOD was that I have to be able to create one fantasy world myself and manipulate it according to the morse codes ai had inserted.
Only then would they promote me to a God.
Kekekeke
Turning my attention back to Noah, I amiled at the fact that this dumbfuck was finally going the way I wanted to.
And the system would make sure that he atleast followed the basic plot outlines if not everything—
A thrill coursed through me as I watched his lips curl into a deranged grin, his shoulders trembling before he threw his head back—
And laughed.
A raw, manic, spine-chilling crackle that echoed through the forest air, sending the surviving creatures around him into a terrified scurry.
There it is.
A villain’s laughter.
The sound I had longed to hear.
I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my desk, my fingers interlocked as I gazed at the boy—the villain—on the screen.
My heartbeat thrummed with excitement, a deep satisfaction settling into my bones.
"He’s the villain of the story," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud would cement it into the very fabric of this world.
My grip tightened.
"I am going to make his life miserable… push him into the dark side—"
Noah was never meant to be a hero.
Not a redeemed villain.
Not a misunderstood one.
No.
He was meant to fall.
Foll𝑜w current novels on fɾēewebnσveℓ.com.
To shatter.
He was supposed to be the most hated character by the time the main plot starts.
As for why?
Heh
You’ll know soon enough—
I had always wanted to make his character something so terrifying, so irreversibly broken, that the world itself would tremble at his very existence.
And I would make sure he had no choice but to fulfill his role.
His fate was sealed, woven into the very threads of this world.
No happy endings.
No salvation.
Only the abyss.
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I watched Noah wipe the blood from his grandmother’s dagger, crimson still dripping from his fingertips.
The system had done its job splendidly. Guiding him. Whispering to him. Molding him.
It was a good idea using my connections this time. ’Hehe’
The contract was signed, and I hadn’t even needed to interfere.
It was all falling into place.
Everything was perfect.
Or so I thought.
Because just as I allowed myself to revel in my own self obsession—
The air in my office shifted.
It grew heavy.
Thick.
Dark.
A suffocating force pressed down upon me, sending a prickling chill up my spine.
I frowned, tilting my head slightly, my black locks shifting over my eyes as I exhaled through my nose.
No.
Not now.
I was busy.
Yet, the room dimmed. The soft glow of my screen flickered, and I felt it—
A shadow cast over me.
Slowly, reluctantly, I lifted my gaze.
And immediately regretted it.
A colossus stood before me.
A hulking giant of a man, his sheer size alone making the space around him seem small. Towering, monstrous, a figure carved from something far beyond mortal comprehension.
His muscles—layer upon layer of them—bulged beneath his fitted clothes, each fiber coiled with immeasurable strength.
His arms were thicker than my entire torso, veins pulsing with a glow that seemed to defy existence itself.
But it wasn’t just his immense form that made my breath hitch.
It was his face.
Or rather—
The absence of it.
Where features should have been—where eyes, a nose, a mouth should have existed—there was only emptiness.
A swirling void, darker than anything I had ever created.
A void that should not exist, that could not exist.
Yet here it was, right in front of me.
A bead of sweat trickled down my temple.
This wasn’t just some overpowered entity I had written into existence.
No.
This was something beyond me.
Beyond my world.
Beyond my authority.
I swallowed hard, shifting slightly in my chair, forcing my voice to remain steady.
"…What do you want?"
The giant did not move.
Not at first.
Then—a single shift.
A simple movement—his body adjusting ever so slightly—
And the entire space trembled beneath his weight.
The atmosphere seemed to bend, reality itself groaning under the sheer pressure of his existence.
Then—
He spoke.
His voice wasn’t just deep.
It was a force.
A rumbling tremor, vibrating not just through the air, but through my very being.
His words weren’t a request.
They weren’t even a command.
They were an edict.
A summons.
"William wishes to see you."
***
A/N:
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