[WARNING: ESCALATED TALK OF MARKET INCIDENT]
[VIRAL EXPOSURE MAY TRIGGER ACCELERATED PLOT CORRECTION]
[PLOT INTERFERENCE DETECTED]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: DECREASED BY 15%]
[CURRENT THREAT LEVEL: CRITICAL]
[NOTIFICATION: PLOT WILL ATTEMPT ELIMINATION IN 10 SECONDS]
[VIRAL EXPOSURE HAS MARKED YOU AS ANOMALY]
[TRENDIND VIEWS: 1.35 MILLION AND COUNTING]
[PLOT PRIORITIZING YOUR REMOVAL]
Wish's heart hammered in her chest. "What does that even mean?"
[CLARIFICATION: PUBLIC ATTENTION HAS MARKED YOU AS ANOMALY]
[PLOT WILL PRIORITIZE YOUR REMOVAL]
[COUNTDOWN: 9... 8... 7...]
Wish stood frozen, her mind racing. "How the hell will the plot kill me? Will it just declare me dead and I'll be dead?" She looked around the bathroom wildly. "The system said accidents will happen. What accident can happen here?"
Her eyes darted to the bathtub. Suffocating in shower water? Slipping and cracking my skull? The mirror shattering and glass slicing my throat? Electrocution from the water heater?
[5... 4... 3...]
"Okay, okay!" She backed away from the bathtub. "Let me just wash my face. Maybe my hands. I'll prioritize living over being clean. I showered last night anyway, so I don't stink."
[2... 1...]
She turned the tap.
Water exploded from the faucet with violent force, spraying everywhere. The pressure was impossible—water shot straight up, hitting the ceiling, cascading down in sheets.
Within seconds, the floor was drenched, water spreading across the tiles in a slick, treacherous pool.
"What the hell?" Wish lunged for the tap, trying to turn it off, but her foot slipped on the wet tiles.
Her arms windmilled as she tried to catch her balance, but her feet slid out from under her completely. She crashed backward, falling fast, her head aimed directly at the sharp corner of the marble countertop.
Time slowed.
No no no—I am dead.
She twisted desperately mid-fall, throwing her weight to the side. Her right shoulder slammed into the wet floor instead, pain exploding through her arm. Her head missed the counter by inches—so close she felt the cold marble graze her hair.
She lay there gasping, water soaking through her clothes, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.
The tap continued to spray wildly above her.
[DEATH AVOIDED]
[PLOT ATTEMPT: FAILED]
[ANALYSIS: BATHROOM ACCIDENT - BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA TO HEAD]
[CAUSE: WATER PRESSURE MALFUNCTION]
[NEXT ATTEMPT PROBABILITY: 92% WITHIN 24 HOURS]
[RECOMMENDATION: EXTREME CAUTION REQUIRED]
The text blinked away.
Wish scrambled to her knees, crawling across the wet floor to the tap. She wrenched it with both hands, twisting it shut. The water sputtered, then stopped, leaving only the sound of dripping and her ragged breathing.
She sat there on the soaking floor, trembling, staring at the tap that had worked perfectly fine yesterday night.
"It's trying to kill me," she whispered. "The plot is actually trying to kill me."
Water dripped from her hair, down her face. Her shoulder throbbed where she'd hit the floor. She looked at the marble counter—at the sharp corner that would have split her skull open if she hadn't twisted away.
She grabbed a towel from the rack, her hands still shaking, and dried her face. The bathroom floor was a disaster—water everywhere, her nightclothes soaked through.
"Okay. Okay. I need protection. I need to get close to one of the male leads before this plot kills me for real."
She changed quickly into dry clothes—a cropped top made of woven fabric dyed deep burgundy that tied at the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare and showing a sliver of her midriff.
She paired it with fitted shorts that ended mid-thigh, made from smooth, treated material with tribal patterns embroidered along the hem.
A thin belt with carved bone details sat low on her hips.
She moved carefully, watching every step. Her mind raced.
Twenty-four hours. Maybe less. I need to stay close to people. No being alone. No more bathroom trips by myself.
Maybe I should just follow one of the male leads around like a lost puppy. Would that work? Or would the plot find a way to kill me even then?
"Wish!" Her mother's voice called from downstairs, urgent and strained. "Hurry up! Our guest is waiting!"
Guest? What guest?
She walked out, her brain still churning through survival strategies. Stay visible. Stay surrounded. Don't go anywhere alone. Avoid sharp objects. Avoid water. Avoid basically everything that can cause harm.
When she arrived at the living room, she stopped in the doorway.
Her mom and dad sat together on a two-person sofa, their postures stiff and formal. Her sister perched on a wooden stool nearby, looking equally tense. And on the long sofa across from them sat a visitor.
The man was magnificent. He wore robes of silver and black that looked expensive—tailored perfectly to his tall, broad frame. His long hair fell past his shoulders, dark auburn and sleek, tied loosely at the nape of his neck.
His face was handsome in a mature way, like a human in their late thirties, with strong features and sharp eyes that assessed everything.
His beard was cleanly shaven, leaving his jaw defined and angular.
He looked important. Too important to be sitting in their modest home.
On the low table between them lay food—roasted meat sliced thin and arranged on wooden platters, flatbread still warm from the oven, bowls of stewed vegetables with herbs, fresh fruit cut into neat pieces, and glass mugs filled with spiced tea that steamed gently in the morning light.
Her mother looked up as Wish entered. Her smile was nervous, too bright, too forced. She gestured quickly for Wish to sit down.
"Wish, darling. Come, sit." Her mother's voice trembled slightly. "We have a guest. This is guardian Kavan."
The man turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable.
Wish's stomach twisted. This doesn't feel right. Why is a guardian here? Why is Mom so nervous? What the hell is a guardian anyway?