[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
My phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. Then the screen went completely black.
When it flickered back to life, there was a message I'd never seen before.
FINAL ANNOUNCEMENT - Novelseek PLATFORM CLOSING
Dear Readers and Writers,
We want to thank you for your years of dedication to our platform. It is with deep regret that we announce our permanent closure, effective immediately.
All your reading history, reviews, bookmarks, and data will be preserved in our new project. For those interested in continuing your journey, please click below to migrate your account.
Thank you for being part of our story.
CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE
"WHAT?!"
Every passenger in the subway car turned to stare at me. I felt embarrassed, but I kept my expression neutral. Years of making a fool of myself in public had given me thick skin.
Inside though? I was panicking.
Five years of reading history. Thousands of reviews. Hundreds of bookmarked novels I was totally going to read someday. All just… gone?
Frustrated, angry, and not thinking clearly, I clicked the link.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
My phone screen stayed the same. The subway kept moving, passengers kept scrolling, and I sat there feeling like an idiot for expecting something dramatic.
Then I looked up.
The subway car was empty.
Not just empty…empty. The businessman who'd been reading his newspaper. The high school girls giggling over some idol group. The tired mother with her sleeping child.
All of them. Gone.
"Okay, you're hallucinating," I told myself. "Too many late nights reading cultivation novels. You've finally snapped."
But then I looked out the window.
We were in a tunnel. Except I knew this route—I'd taken this subway home every single day for two years. There were no tunnels on this line. Not one.
The lights outside flashed red. Red. Red. Red.
The subway began to rattle.
Static burst through the speakers.
"Welcome, contenders. We'll be with you in just a few moments. Those watching at home, please prepare to vote for the upcoming Ender Rewards. Thank you for your patience."
Contenders? Watching at home?
The subway slammed to a halt so hard I nearly face-planted into the pole I was gripping.
"Next stop: ENDPOINT 101. All contenders, please disembark. This is your only chance. We repeat: PLEASE DISEMBARK."
The doors slid open.
I step forward.
Blinding light exploded in my face. But it wasn't sunlight.
Stage lights.
"WELCOMe!"
A voice boomed through speakers I couldn't see.
"Our precious contender graces us with his presence!"
Applause erupted from everywhere and nowhere. The light shifted and I could finally see where I was.
I was on a stage.
A massive stage with lights, cameras, and millions of floating screens in the darkness beyond. On those screens, I could see faces. Creatures. Things that definitely weren't human, all watching me.
"What the…"
"WELCOME, DEAR VIEWERS!" The voice continued. "To the 4,951st stream of the day! We are thrilled to bring you our newest, latest, and potentially shortest-lived Ender candidate! Let us all welcome…"
Silence. Every eye—human and otherwise—focused on me.
"Name, please?" The voice dropped to a whisper that was somehow still being broadcast to millions.
I looked toward the source. In the centre of the stage stood a figure in a pristine suit and tie.
With an emoji for a face.
A literal yellow smiley-face emoji where a head should be.
"Uh… Fitz."
"Just Fitz? No last name?"
"Just Fitz." Like hell I was giving this thing my real name.
A badge materialised on my chest—right over my work uniform. The number 4951 glowed in electric blue.
"WONDERFUL! You, dear Fitz, have been selected for the most exciting, thrilling, and moderately-life-threatening game in the universe! For those watching at home, don't forget to vote, comment, and if you're feeling generous, donate! And a special thank you to our sponsors who made today's selection possible!"
"Wait, selected? I didn't agree to…."
"We'll be right back after this brief commercial break!"
The stage lights dimmed.
The moment they lowered, the space transformed. The stage, the cameras, the watching eyes—all of it faded.
What remained were books.
Shelves upon shelves upon endless shelves of books, stretching up into infinity. Old books, new books, books that looked like they were written in languages that shouldn't exist. The smell of paper and ink filled the air.
"It seems contestant 4951 is confused about his situation," the emoji-man said, suddenly standing right beside me.
The ground rippled like water and I was face-to-face with him. Or face-to-emoji-face.
"Since we're on break and the intro is complete, you may ask questions. But only until the break ends! Sounds exciting, doesn't it?
s face, constantly shifting between different expressions.
"What are you?" I asked.
The emoji shifted to angry red.
"I am NONE of your business!"
Silence.
Then it shifted back to happy yellow.
"But since you asked so rudely, I suppose I can introduce myself. I am what you would call an Administrator. Or a Host. I run the Universe Streaming Service, specifically this channel. I'm also an avid reader, every genre, every style. You can call me Moji. Or MoMo. Or Host. Or 'Your Excellency' if you're feeling formal."
"Okay, Moji," I said slowly. "What exactly are 'scenarios,' and where the hell am I?"
Moji's face cycled through several expressions before settling on something resembling a teacher's patient smile.
"Think of it like this: every story ever imagined creates ripples in what we call the River of Imagination. The more a story is read, loved, and shared, the stronger those ripples become. Eventually, those ripples solidify into separate sub-spaces—pocket dimensions based on the narrative."
He gestured to the infinite library around us.
"This is the Endpoint. The place where all stories eventually end up. Every book ever read by humanity is recorded here. Every dream, every idea, every 'what if' scenario. Your collective consciousness builds this place, brick by brick, word by word."
"That's…" I struggled to process. "Insane."
"That's reality, my dear contestant! And we of the Streaming Service have a very important job: we fuel the River of Imagination by broadcasting entertainment across the universe! The more views we get, the more Imagination Juice flows into the river."
"Imagination Juice?"
"It rolls off the tongue better than 'Essence of Conceptual Manifestation,' don't you think?"
Fair point.
"And if this river runs dry?" I asked.
Moji's face shifted to a skull.
"Then every story—every universe, every reality, every possibility—ends. Permanently."
A chill ran down my spine.
"You said I was selected. Selected for what?"
"To create CONTENT!" Moji's face exploded into fireworks. "You, along with 4,950 other humans, have been chosen to enter various scenarios—narrative sub-spaces based on stories from your world. Your job is simple: complete the scenario, survive, and entertain our viewers."
"And if I refuse?"
Moji's face went blank—completely expressionless, which was somehow worse than the skull.
"Let's just say the universe has no use for non-entertaining entities."
Translation: refuse and die.
"Before you spiral into despair," Moji continued cheerfully, "let me show you your new best friend!"
Something materialised in my pocket. I pulled it out…a phone, but not my phone. This one was jet black with no camera lens, just a glowing rune on the back surrounded by web-like patterns.
"Your Web Phone! This baby will guide you through scenarios, track your progress, show you objectives, and more! Lose it, and you're stuck in sub-space forever. So don't lose it."
"And people will be watching me? Aliens? Other species?"
"Millions of them! But don't worry—we have strict privacy policies. No bathroom breaks on camera, no… intimate moments. We're a family-friendly stream! Mostly."
The thought of being watched, judged, and evaluated by millions of alien eyes made my skin crawl. I'd always had a fear of being watched. It's why I kept such a neutral expression all the time…a defence mechanism.
But what choice did I have?
"Let's do it," I heard myself say.
I don't know why I said that. Maybe it was a survival instinct. Maybe curiosity. Maybe, deep down, some part of me wanted to finally be inside a story instead of just criticising from the outside.
Moji's face shifted to a wink.
"Excellent! But we're out of time. PLACES, EVERYONE!"
He snapped his fingers.
The lights blazed back to life. The cameras swivelled toward me. Millions of alien faces pressed against their screens.
"WELCOME BACK, dear viewers, to the final candidate of Moji's Stream! This one's special, folks. Really special!"
"What!"
"I have personally selected contestant 4951's first scenario based on his extensive reading history!"
Oh no.
"And with his full consent—"
A floating screen appeared, showing a clip of me saying "Let's do it."
"-he has agreed to enter a scenario from his most critically reviewed novel!"
Hundreds of book covers materialised around me, spinning in a chaotic whirlwind. I could see my own reviews hovering next to each one.
*4/5 - "Decent, but the pacing drags."
*3/5 - "Interesting premise, poor execution."
*2/5 - "Waste of potential."
*1/5 - "Absolute garbage."
"From five stars to one star," Moji announced gleefully. "Let's see which story fate selects!"
"Wait, I can choose—"
"Just point at one! Anyone!"
Desperate to stop the spinning before I threw up, I pointed randomly.
The covers froze.
Right in front of me hung a book I remembered very, very clearly.
Because I'd absolutely torn it apart in my review.
Selected Scenario: THE THRONES OF SCALES
Contestant 4951 - Personal Rating: 1/5
Review:" This is an awful novel. The side characters are irrelevant. The main character is a CHILD who the author tortures for no reason. Inconsiderate trash. The world-building is nonsensical. The power system is broken. The plot is full of holes. This is the WORST novel I've ever read. One star, and I'm being generous."
My poker face cracked. An awkward, horrified smile spread across my face.
"Fuck m—"
My body began to dissolve, pulled into the book cover like water down a drain.
The last thing I heard was Moji's cheerful voice:
"Good luck, contestant! Try not to die in the first chapter! Our viewers hate when that happens!"
Then everything went dark.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Welcome to "THE THRONES OF SCALES"
Difficulty: S-Rank
Survival Rate: 3%
Current Viewers: 4
Scenario Objective: Loading…