Consciousness did not return gently.
It slammed into Lucas like a collision.
For a moment, there was nothing but weight, too light, something wrong, and then smell.
Chalk dust. Floor polish. The faint, cloying scent of adolescent anxiety. Noise followed next: laughter, shouting, lockers slamming shut.
Lucas opened his eyes and staggered slightly as a river of students flowed around him.
A high school hallway.
No.
His chest tightened. His heart was beating too fast, too young. His hands as he lifted them slowly were long, thin, unfamiliar. This body was not his.
Not the body that had signed contracts, buried enemies, or held Charlotte's lifeless hand as the world ended.
"I'm… here again?" he whispered.
Memories pressed in, and layered over his own.
A quiet boy, an orphan, a small apartment, part-time work after school.
A transfer student with no friends and no past worth asking about.
Lucas swallowed hard.
Charlotte's face rose in his mind, clear and devastating. Her smile. Her exhaustion. The way she laughed like it cost her something every time.
She had died.
That memory was sharp. Untouched. Unfaded.
He looked around the classroom then lay down at his desk.
A cold blue light flickered before his eyes.
[SYSTEM 08 ACTIVATED]
Host detected. Synchronization complete.
Lucas froze. "Who are you?"
[I am System 08. A narrative correction system.]
"Why am I here?" His voice trembled despite his effort to control it. "Why am I alive?"
A pause. Then images flooded his mind—stories, timelines, repeated lives.
[Mission Assigned: Save the Villainess.]
Lucas laughed once. It was hollow.
"Villainess?"
A figure appeared in the projection.
Charlotte, being younger and cuter, but still carrying that same quiet loneliness in her eyes.
[In every narrative iteration, Charlotte occupies the role of the Villainess.]
[She is framed, isolated, abandoned, and ultimately destroyed.]
His hands curled into fists.
"Why?" he demanded. "What does she do wrong?"
Another pause.
[Nothing.]
The word hit harder than anything else.
[Her crime is being disliked by the Female Protagonist.]
Lucas's vision darkened.
"So she suffers," he said slowly, rage bleeding into his voice, "because someone important doesn't like her?"
[Correct.]
He wanted to scream. Wanted to tear the system apart piece by piece. Charlotte, the kind, brilliant, fragile Charlotte is reduced to a disposable obstacle so another girl's story could shine.
"And if I don't interfere?" Lucas asked, already knowing the answer.
[She will be abandoned.]
[She will lose her future.]
[She will die.]
Silence stretched.
Lucas closed his eyes.
"I accept," he said.
He woke again and this time properly.
Morning light filtered through thin curtains in a small, cheap apartment. The ceiling above him was cracked. The air was cold. Normal
Lucas woke to silence.
A narrow apartment. Thin walls. A ceiling with a hairline crack he didn't remember earning. Morning light slipped through cheap curtains, dull and pale.
He sat up slowly, one hand pressed to his chest. The heartbeat was steady, young. Wrong.
A blue light shimmered in the air.
[SYSTEM 08 ONLINE]
Host consciousness stabilized.
Lucas exhaled through his nose. "Who am I supposed to be?"
[You are Lucas. Seventeen. Orphan. Transfer student.]
"And you?"
[System 08. Narrative correction unit.]
Fragments poured into his mind, stories looping endlessly, roles repeated with cruel precision.
[Mission Assigned: Save the Villainess.]
A face appeared.
His Charlotte.
Silence followed.
Lucas closed his eyes.
"I'll do it," he said. "But don't expect me to play fair."
Northwood High smelled like chalk and polished floors and teenage nerves.
Consciousness settled fully as Lucas stood in the hallway, students streaming past him in loud, careless waves. The body he wore felt awkward and unfamiliar but his mind was clear.
He felt it before he saw her.
A pull.
Subtle and unavoidable.
Charlotte stood by the lockers, books clutched to her chest, dark hair falling forward as if to shield her from the world.
She looked small here and out of place, like someone already bracing for impact.
Lucas didn't approach.
He watched.
He learned.
By the end of the day, the structure of the world was clear.
Leo—the admired quarterback.
Julia—the smiling center of gravity.
Charlotte—the quiet anomaly.
And Lucas?
He made himself untouchable.
Within a week, students stopped talking when he passed. Teachers called on him carefully. He answered when needed, spoke little, never smiled.
The cold president, he want authority in class to let this female protagonist get taste of her hatred.
When class elections came, his name was written down without discussion. He didn't campaign. He didn't refuse.
Power, he knew, was safest when it didn't beg.
Except with Charlotte.
With her, he changed just enough.
He pulled out chairs before she arrived.
Redirected group assignments so she wasn't isolated. Shut down whispers with a single glance when Julia's friends laughed too loudly.
He never spoke to Charlotte unless necessary.
But when he did, his voice softened.
For a second, he forgot where he was.
He wanted to cross the distance. To take her into his arms. To feel her warmth. To prove she was alive.
His hands trembled.
Don't.
You can't.
He forced himself to stay still.
Social cruelty sharp enough to kill.
He watched Julia whisper with her friends later that day, eyes flicking toward Charlotte's locker.
The plot was already moving on.
"System 08: Lucas The Plot Start Now"