C4 Why the F*ck Did I Write This World Like This?!

With one hand commanding countless legions to sweep through the world, bringing out black tech technologies one after another.

Advancing civilization to space age In one go and the like but the problem was that compared to my fictional MC that I created based on myself In reality I was just an average joe.

The current Dracula Von Death aka me wasn't just a failure. He was a walking f*cking joke of cosmic proportions. I took a deep breath.

Focus. Ignore these dumbass noble brats, theyre just f*cking NPCs that I created. There was only one thing I needed to confirm right now. The Golden Finger. The Cheat. The system. The one thing that might keep me from dying in the next few days.

Alright think I wrote that the MC went straight to meet the g*ds and with their help awakened prepared by himself system. Alright lets do It no time to waist.

I thought setting myself a mission objective.

"Look at him hes so drunk cant even speak"

"Hahaha what a loser"

Ignoring the background filler NPCs behind me continuing to mock me like pesky flies they were I bolted out of Ares Academy like a man possessed which technically I was.

So would have been the MC because the only reason why he father any descendants was so that his soul could continue to posses them.

Biding Its time, waiting for the right time and body to fully awaken.

Shoving past bewildered cadets, startled servants, and a few stunned academies Instructors who barely had time to react before I disappeared down the grand marble staircase.

The crisp morning air hit me like a slap to the face, the scent of burning coal, sweat, and dust filling my lungs as I skidded to a halt in the middle of the street.

And then, I froze. Because holy sh*t, this wasn't some generic medieval fantasy world. This was 1936 meets Ancient Rome.

Towering Hellenistic architecture stretched high into the sky, a colossal mix of marble temples, stone colosseums, and sprawling aqueducts weaving through the heart of the Nova Roma city.

The roads were hardened dirt, packed solid by years of marching legions, wooden carts, and mule drawn carriages carrying goods from across the Spartanum Ducatum only the most wealthy of merchants could afford trucks and the fuel needed for them.

The smell of coal smoke and freshly baked bread clashed in the air as factories churned in the industrial district, belching thick black clouds into the sky.

Along the streets, workers in stained overalls and soot covered faces loaded crates of ammunition and rifles onto horse drawn wagons, while merchants in togas with modern clothes underneath haggled over the price of wheat, olives, and oil.

Nearby, a military parade was in full swing, columns of soldiers in woolen black field uniforms and steel helmets marching in lockstep, their polished bolt action rifles slung over their shoulders.

Their officers, clad in spartan cloacks with vertical plumes on their steel helmets and gladiuses, barked orders while the Imperial banners of Spartanum Ducatum fluttered high above a pitch black Iron Fenrir coiling Itself against blood red banner surrounded by golden laurel leaves with words In white written underneath In Death I Live.

Men in newsboy caps stood on wooden crates, waving the latest edition of the Nova Roma news outlets, shouting headlines about the Imperial Senate debating an increase in military funding.

Children weaved through the streets, chasing one another with wooden gladius, pretending to be legionnaires or barbarian raiders.

On a nearby marble statue of Imperator Alucard Von Death clad from head to toe In roman legioneer armor, a group of young revolutionaries had scrawled in red paint.

"DEATH TO THE ARISTOCRACY! LONG LIVE THE PEOPLE!"

And somewhere in the distance, I could hear the faint humming of air force zeppelins and WW1 open cockpit planes propellers as they passed overhead.

It was chaotic. It was majestic. It was exactly the world I had written. And I was f*cking terrified of It like I was so close to crapping my pants like I had never been In my whole life.

"Prince Dracula?!"

A voice shouted from behind me.

I turned only to see a contubernium of Cerberus an organization that was a combination of military Intelligence, secret police, military police and rensponsible for guarding the Imperial family aka the MCs failsafe praetorians, their unforms adorned with ceremonial Roman legioneers armor and spartan cloacks, their submachineguns slung across their backs.

Their helmets with horizontal plumes gleamed under the morning sun, their faces filled with annoyance.

"Your Highness! You cannot be outside without an escort! The Praetor will have our heads!"

Oh, f*ck that. I didn't have time for this.

"F*ck off thats an order!"

I barked, turning and sprinting down the main avenue, weaving through mule drawn carts, honking cars, shouting merchants, and stunned pedestrians who barely had time to leap out of my way.

The Pantheon of G*ds stood at the very heart of Nova Roma, a colossal temple built atop the city's highest hill.

Its gilded dome gleamed like a second sun, its massive marble steps lined with statues of the Twelve main G*ds, each one towering over the common folk like eternal sentinels.

If I could just get there, If I could just awaken my cheat, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't die a horrible, premature death in this brutal hellscape of a world I had created. But, of course, fate had other plans.

"Someone Stop That Maniac!"

"THE PRINCE IS ON THE LOOSE! CATCH HIM!"

More voices. More soldiers with bolt action rifles that were busy smoking cigarettes in black uniforms scrambling from street corners, chasing after me with expressions ranging from confusion to outright panic.

After all Cerberus was the Ducatums number one buggyman the kind that parents would threathen children with If they didnt listen.

A single mention of them was enough to make crying children shut up on the spot and the naughty ones start crying as If they were going to die on the spot.

And the praetorians the nastiest bunch of them could execute them on the spot If they so wished to so they could only hit eight gear and run after me as If their life depended on It which It did.

"DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!"

Oh, for f*ck's sake. I had barely dodged past a mule drawn wagon when a contubernium of mounted armed cavalry burst onto the street their warhorses snorting in the cold air.

"Your Highness! In the name of the Emperor, STOP!"

"F*ck the emperor!"

I cursed as I dove into an alleyway leaving contuberiums tesserarius frozen In place after hearing me curse the emperor, as I knocked over a basket of oranges, sending them rolling across the cobblestone.

A startled fruit vendor screamed curses at me, shaking his fist as I vaulted over a stack of wooden crates.

The cavalry thundered past the alley, missing me by inches. Close call. But I wasn't safe yet, not until I got my hands on my golden finger.

By the time I reached the bottom of the Pantheon steps, my lungs were burning, my legs felt like lead, and my heart was trying to escape through my ribs.

The massive golden doors of the Pantheon loomed before me, flanked by two giant marble statues of Ares and Athena, their sword and spear pointed at the heavens.

At the entrance, high ranking priests and priestesses in ceremonial robes turned in confusion as they saw a dust covered, sweat drenched prince running toward them like a madman.

"HALT!"

One of them bellowed.

"WHO APPROACHES THE SANCTUM OF THE G*DS WITH SUCH DISGRACEFUL CONDUCT?!"

I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

"YOURE G*DDAMN CREATOR THATS WHO!"

I roared while thinking.

This was it. My one shot. If I f*ck this up, my head's getting mounted on a wall before the week is over. The g*ds that I wrote better be real, because if they aren't, I'm so unbelievably f*cked.

As I slammed my foot into the massive doors, kicking them open with everything I had.

BOOM.

A shockwave of psionic energy rippled through the temple as I stumbled inside, panting like a dying horse making me take a few steps back and almost fall on my ass.

Yeah psionic energy, unlike the original timeline It didnt exist on E*arth, well more like It barely existed but In this timeline thanks to the MC subconciuosly saving the old g*ds from oblivion It did exist.

And Priests and priestesses thanks to their connection to the g*ds and an extremely small fraction of the population who won the genetic lottery could perform certain magic tricks.

As for why I wrote It like this, well humanity needed to become psionic race as soon as possible, and the old g*ds were the needed catalist to make It happen.