Heaven for him, Hell for me

"Welcome to the novel 'The Villain is Doomed by the Hero in Every Way.'"

The voice rang through my mind—smooth yet unnervingly distant, like it wasn't speaking to me but merely stating a fact.

I stiffened, my hands clenching into fists under the desk. This wasn't a dream. It wasn't some hallucination. I was hearing an actual voice in my head, and it was confirming the very thing I feared the most.

"I am the system of this novel. You are the villain of this story, Elias Astaire."

My stomach twisted. A cold, sickening realization settled in my bones. My breath hitched, my chest tightening with something between panic and disbelief.

No, no, no—this couldn't be happening.

But the voice continued, detached and unwavering.

"You may call me Liaine. Please play your role accordingly—because for every mistake, there is no great future for you."

That single sentence sent ice down my spine.

No great future.

I swallowed hard, but my throat felt dry, like I had swallowed sandpaper.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Death? Suffering? Some cruel fate worse than both?

For a split second, I could barely breathe.

A sharp laugh snapped me back to reality.

Dante.

He wasn't even looking at me anymore, casually flipping through his book like he hadn't just beaten Elias Astaire to a pulp at the festival. Like I wasn't even worth the effort of mocking right now.

That should've been a relief. It wasn't.

Because I knew what was coming next in this story.

And if the system's words were true—if this wasn't some twisted joke—then I wasn't just watching from the outside anymore.

I was living it.

I pressed my hands against my face, trying to hide from Dante's gaze, from the students still sneaking glances at me, from the entire world that suddenly felt like a death sentence.

I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

I needed to wake up.

"Why am I here? How the hell am I here?" I whispered through clenched teeth.

The system didn't respond right away.

The silence stretched, and for a brief, desperate moment, I thought maybe—maybe—it had disappeared.

Then—

"You have one hundred days only. Thank you."

I froze. My heart skipped a beat.

"One hundred…?" I repeated under my breath, my voice barely a whisper. "One hundred what?"

The system didn't answer.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

"Hey! Hey, you!" I hissed in my mind, trying to call it back. "One hundred days for what? Lives? Chances? What does that mean?!"

Nothing.

No response.

It was gone.

A cold sweat clung to my skin as I gripped my desk, my fingers digging into the wood.

I felt sick.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run.

But I was stuck in this chair, stuck in this body, stuck in the goddamn villain's role—and now, there was a countdown I didn't even understand.

I forced myself to take a slow, shaky breath and look around the room.

The students were still there, whispering, glancing, some smirking, some uninterested. Nothing had changed for them.

But for me?

Everything was wrong.

Because I knew exactly who Elias Astaire was.

He was weak.

He was dumb.

He was pathetic.

He was a stepping stone—a joke of a villain, someone whose sole purpose was to make Dante Ashbourne look stronger.

And now—I was him.

How the hell was I supposed to survive here?

When I knew exactly what was coming for me?

When I knew that this place—Astarst Academy—was a living hell I had created with my own hands?

Not for Dante.

For me.

For Elias Astaire.

Because while this academy was my personal death trap, designed to humiliate and break me down, it was nothing less than a paradise for Dante Ashbourne.

He was the hero of this story.

This place was built to elevate him.

To worship him.

To make him shine brighter than anyone else.

I knew that because I wrote it that way.

Astarst Academy wasn't just a prestigious school for the elite—it was a kingdom where strength ruled, where status dictated your survival. The strong thrived, and the weak?

They were crushed.

Dante was the strongest.

Elias was the weakest.

It was never a fair battle to begin with.

I had made Dante untouchable. The beloved prodigy, the one everyone admired, feared, or envied. No one questioned his victories because he was meant to win. No one challenged his authority because he was destined to reign.

Even the teachers adored him. Even the system itself favored him.

Astarst Academy was his heaven.

It was my hell.

And now, I was trapped inside it.