Prologue

this story been dropped dont read this read Insane villain instead

I let out a deep, sigh as I meticulously returned the enchanted tome labeled "[Orion Price]" to its designated spot on the shelf. A century had dragged on since I penned these stories—creations that once fueled my imagination with a fiery passion. However, as the sands of time slipped through my fingers, my enthusiasm dwindled, and my masterpieces transformed into nothing more than a tool for my own amusement.

I couldn't fault those Archivists that were always diligently sending me the finished results; they executed their tasks flawlessly. The blame rested squarely on my own shoulders for succumbing to the monotony that had seeped into my creative realm.

Those blasted divines and voids barely provided a smidgen of amusement, stumbling far from discovering the portal leading to this all-powerful man cave. Their ongoing war had come to a tedious standstill, and there was a palpable risk of them forgetting the very reason they ignited the conflict. Utterly disappointing. It seemed intervention on my part was necessary to inject some intrigue. Perhaps I could coerce the Archivists to unveil themselves and pose as guardians, defending the elusive portal. As I surveyed the room, the battleground over which those entities fiercely clashed, I contemplated the imminent infusion of my own brand of entertainment.

My refuge, affectionately dubbed my "Man cave," defied the conventional cave aesthetic. Its walls mirrored a cosmic chessboard, adorned with swirling galaxies and stars engaged in a celestial ballet. The bed, fashioned from a substance akin to clouds, tempted me to indulge in moments of cunning contemplation. Yet, as I surveyed the room today, an undeniable emptiness lingered—a craving for renewed inspiration.

With a nonchalant flick of my hand and a snap of my fingers, the surroundings underwent a transformation. Suddenly, I found myself in a humble bedroom, facing a laptop that beckoned me to explore the realms of deception beyond my own. I opened a familiar website, "NetNovel," where countless narratives awaited my conniving gaze. One title, "Readers Point of view" particularly intrigued me, and I plunged into its pages.

Three hours slipped away in a blink as I voraciously devoured the 440th chapter. To my dismay, no more chapters awaited, leaving me famished for more. The narrative, featuring an ordinary person transported into a fantastical world armed with future knowledge, ensnared me like never before. Energized by a desire not to replicate the tale but to manipulate it, I yearned to immerse myself in an adventure firsthand.

A sly grin stretched across my face as I concocted a cunning plan. If I were to spin my own yarn, the protagonist wouldn't be a random inhabitant; it would be [!>?><33232] orchestrating every twist and turn. The thirst to experience a story firsthand and embark on an epic journey fueled my excitement. With newfound determination, I began outlining the intricate details of my next deceptive endeavor, ready to weave a narrative where I could be the puppet master.

****

I let out a big sigh, bored out of my mind reading a Netnovel named "Tale of Orion: Descendant of Gilgamesh." It was just a distraction from the fact that my college freshman year was about to kick off, and I had work tomorrow because, you know, those dammed student loans weren't going to pay themselves.

The novel I was reading was something I wouldn't call a masterpiece despite the promising title, it about a boy named Orion price who was the descendant of Gilgamesh and that's probably the only original thing about it besides the title. it was the typical status screen, demon king invading, post mana apocalypse world. The mc of the story was special because of his ancestor powers had awakened and scarred his body with skills and years of battle techniques.

I was always a little jealous of the main characters with something special about them because it was the one thing I wanted but couldn't have. I know its a little silly as it is all fiction but I have always wished I had something that could make me the main character of some type of story. 

My name is Kain and I would say life felt kind of meh right now, just in this in-between phase until graduation. That's when I planned to actually try to make some real friends and connections. I had buddies, but they were more like in-the-moment pals rather than lifelong companions. And my parents? Well, they were basically dead to me since I moved out due to some crappy circumstances.

I always used novels as an escape for me to enjoy life but now its getting extremely stale. These stories always are the same always with the clichés and its getting harder to read all these copies of each other. Each time I try to read a new novel I would find something that I would hate and would make me stop reading immediately. Tale of Orion was a book that I didn't have much problems with but it still wasn't satisfying my boredom

As the clock hit midnight, I realized it was time to shut down the laptop. The hero in the novel finally killed the demon king after an epic three-chapter-long battle. I turned off the laptop and flopped onto my basic but beloved bed. In no time, I was out like a light, clueless about what would happen when I woke up.

*** 

In the dimly lit room, the young man's jet-black hair sprawled across the pillow, an undisturbed contrast to the shadows that clung to the corners. A sudden disturbance in the air brought with it an orb of pulsating brilliance. 

As the radiant orb inched nearer, it cast an otherworldly dance of shimmering light, illuminating the room with hues unseen by mortal eyes. The atmosphere crackled with an enigmatic energy, weaving through the air and stirring the dormant particles of the mundane. The very essence of the room seemed to quiver in recognition of an impending convergence.

The fusion reached its zenith, a crescendo of light and power that could rival the brilliance of a supernova. The room became an ephemeral tapestry of vivid hues, and a symphony of whispers echoed through the air. The young man's form, now imbued with a luminescent glow, gradually settled into a state of sublime serenity.

Yet, as the luminosity subsided, the tangible world seemed to hold its breath. The bed, once cradling the form of the slumbering student, now hosted only emptiness. The transition was seamless, leaving behind only the echo of an extraordinary metamorphosis.