ur_awsm_writer

I had nothing left to live for.
No family. No friends. No future.
Just a shattered soul wandering through a world that had already taken everything.

Then I died.
And that’s when everything changed.

I woke in a realm between worlds—where gods whisper and broken souls drift.
There, I met Ashen Crimson.
A tyrant. A fallen god. A man who destroyed his own fate.

And he made me an offer:
Take my life. My memories. My curse.
Live again… as me.

Now I’ve awakened in Zerawell, a world of bloodlines, magic, and power.
As Ashen Crimson, the most hated heir of a disgraced noble house.
A shadow wielder. A hollow soul. A threat to the throne.

But I won’t follow his path of ruin.
I’ll forge my own—
Through strategy, secrets, and shadows.

Let them call me villain.
Let them fear my name.

Because I didn’t choose this story.
But I will control how it ends.


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Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins

Mud clung to boots. Smoke curled upward like fading memories. Trees stood half-burnt and trembling, the scent of ozone and blood thick in the damp air.

Rayne staggered to one knee, his glaive buried in the dirt to hold himself upright. Blood trickled from his temple, his breath ragged. Across from him, Layla stood barely taller, sabers drooping, frost magic sparking weakly at her fingertips.

Nyx still stood with eerie grace, her void aura a flickering shadow around her body. Her eyes remained sharp, calculating—but even she couldn't mask the fatigue in her trembling hands. "I could keep going," she muttered, "but only because stubbornness is a curse."

Face Off 3