In the heart of the night, under a starless sky, the city slumbered. On the roof of a building, I sat with my legs dangling over the edge. A cigarette between my fingers, I stared at the screen of my phone, absorbed by the final lines of my novel, my heart racing.
I finally reached the last chapter of [The Fall of the Hero]. Not the final chapter of the story, no — just the last one the author had released before deciding to abandon it. My heart sank as I read the words that brought the chapter to a close, leaving the tale incomplete. My breath caught, and my fingers tightened around my phone. Then, incredulous, I exhaled a long puff of smoke.
"What?! No... no, this can't be happening... Noah... Noah dies here?! And that damned hero, he gets away with it?! It's called [The Fall of the Hero], for crying out loud! And this is where the author decides to stop writing?!"
My voice echoed in the silence, tinged with a mix of anger and sorrow, as if I had just lost something precious. Slowly, I turned my gaze to the city below, where the lights flickered in the darkness.
But it wasn't just the ending — or lack thereof — that stung. It was knowing that the story would remain unfinished, its characters left in limbo. Noah's fall, Liam's hollow victory… none of it would be resolved. I couldn't believe it. After years of faithfully following every release, eagerly waiting for updates, theorizing about what would happen next, this was how it ended? Not with a real conclusion, but because the author had given up?
"What a joke…" I muttered bitterly, taking another drag from my cigarette.
"How could you do this? Just… leave us hanging like this? Did you even care about the story ? About us, your readers?"
[The Fall of the Hero] was more than just a story to me: it was an escape, a world I had immersed myself in, where I had followed Noah step by step, identifying with him to the point of feeling his fall as a betrayal. And now, even that world was being taken away, abandoned like a half-finished painting.
I took one last drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke envelop my face, as if to dissipate the bitterness.
The novel told the story of two intertwined fates, each presented from a unique perspective: that of Liam, the protagonist destined to be the hero, and that of Noah, who, as the pages turned, became the villain. The story offered a nuanced view, plunging readers into the motivations and doubts of each character, urging them to choose sides.
Me? There had never been any doubt. I was one of those who supported Noah. I could never side with a hero flanked by a whole harem! Hell nah, that was the ultimate red flag!
Yet deep down, I knew: Liam deserved this victory; he deserved to be the hero. Sometimes, stories must end that way, even if they break those who read them.
But this wasn't the ending the story deserved. It wasn't an ending at all. And that, more than anything, was what hurt the most.
A cynical smile crept onto my face, my gaze lost in the void beneath my feet. A bitter smile, tinged with melancholy and resignation.
'I guess that's how the story was meant to end… just like mine.'
With a slow gesture, I cleared the history on my phone and tucked it into my pocket before standing up. I took one last drag on my cigarette and, without a word, let it fall into the abyss. As I watched the glowing ember tumble down, I imagined for a moment that it could ignite the entire city, that its flame was strong enough to reduce everything to ashes, to erase everything, even the pain that gnawed at me.
In one final sigh, I stepped forward… and let myself fall.
That's how Ethan decided to end his life.
But fate, silently, had other plans for him.
***
Ethan had never had an easy life. From a young age, he had been thrown into a whirlwind of bad luck. His parents separated when he was still a child, and his father, who had custody, neither knew how to love him nor take care of him. Struggling with his own demons — alcoholism and drugs — his father had become a shadow, incapable of providing him with a stable home or any support.
Ethan grew up in a violent and unstable environment, where anxiety was his constant companion. His father's anger would often manifest in brutal beatings, leaving Ethan battered and bruised. The violence escalated until it became a daily routine, his father's drunken rage leaving scars on both his body and soul.
At school, it was the same. He was isolated, mocked, rejected by his peers. He had no friends and no place in a world that seemed to ignore him. Every day, he woke up with a sense of terror, not because he knew what awaited him, but because he knew he couldn't change anything. He was trapped in a life that seemed to offer no escape.
As he grew older, the situation didn't improve. His father became more and more disconnected from reality, and Ethan, now a teenager, felt the pressure to take care of himself, to build himself up, to survive. But every time he tried, life brought him back to reality: he was nothing, he had no future. His dreams faded a little more every day, like flames extinguished by rain.
He knew his life was a series of failures. His school results were mediocre, he had no goals, nothing to hold onto. He was tired of fighting. He had stopped hoping. His past weighed heavily on him, and every attempt to move forward only worsened the feeling that he was trapped in an endless cycle.
The mental and emotional pain gradually turned into an unbearable burden. He felt as though the entire world had turned its back on him. The months passed and each day seemed like a repeat of the last, always heavier, always more desperate. There was no way out anymore.
Eventually, after years of violence, Ethan's father was arrested for assaulting him and several other charges. The news did little to soothe Ethan's anguish; it barely registered. His father's fate seemed irrelevant in the face of his own spiraling existence.
Some time later, while working at a job he didn't even like, Ethan received a call. He was told that his father, after serving his sentence, had killed his mother before committing suicide. But strangely, Ethan felt nothing — neither hatred, nor sadness, nor satisfaction. Just indifference. Afterward, his social problems worsened until the day he could no longer bear his life and decided to end it.
***
'Fragments... of memories? Whose are they? Who am I? Why does it hurt so much? Did I fail my suicide? No, impossible, you don't survive jumping off a five-story building...'
After what felt like an eternity, I could take it no longer. The information poured in, so overwhelming that I thought I might die from information overload, if that were even possible... Or maybe I was already dead? What I knew was that I was having a hard time understanding where I was, struggling to make sense of my thoughts. I felt as if I were no longer myself while remaining exactly the same.
I didn't even know who I was. If someone had asked me my name at that moment, I wouldn't have been able to answer.
'It's hot… What a strange sensation...'
Gradually, my senses returned: smell, touch, hearing, taste, and finally sight. The first thing I saw was a bathroom. I heard water running. It took me a few more seconds to stop daydreaming and startle awake.
"Damn, where the hell am I...?"
That's when I realized I was taking a nice warm bath in a bathroom.
Was it mine? Well, in a way, yes.
I remained silent for a long moment before bursting into nervous laughter.
"Hahaha... seriously?"
If someone had been there, they surely would have thought I was crazy, but I wasn't.
After a few seconds, I got out of the bath and turned off the water. I looked at myself in the nearby mirror.
What I saw wasn't me — well, in a sense, it was, but not as I had expected.
A young man with a slender yet well-defined body stood there. He was strikingly beautiful, with jet-black hair and hypnotic amethyst eyes.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What I felt was very strange. The person in the mirror, I knew him very well because it was me, but at the same time, it wasn't quite right.
"...I've transmigrated into the novel [The Fall of the Hero]..." I said with great effort.
I swallowed and continued, "And more specifically into the body of Noah…"
I had received Noah's memories, experiences, emotions, and personality. It was needless to say that I was extremely confused about the situation and my identity.
I remembered the sufferings, the pains, the beautiful memories that Noah experienced...
"No, it's more accurate to say that I lived them myself, since I am Noah, even though I am Ethan."
Hearing myself speak, I realized I sounded completely insane. Frustrated and confused, I slipped into casual clothes before going to reflect on all of this.
It was all really strange; everything felt so familiar: the layout of the furniture, my clothes...
Having finished dressing, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed to the small living room that also served as my bedroom. Moving around this apartment felt perfectly natural for me. After all, I had done it hundreds of times. Why would today be any different?
Once seated on the couch, I closed my eyes and laughed at the situation.
"...So I've been granted a second chance, if I understand correctly, right...?"
Normally, I would have really wanted to smoke at that moment, but there were no cigarettes at home. After all, in the novel, Noah didn't smoke.
'How frustrating...'
To put some order into all this chaos, it's important to know that the novel [The Fall of the Hero] takes place in a world similar to Earth, but fundamentally different. Here, people can manipulate mana, so yes, it is indeed a world governed by magic, like in many classic fantasy stories. There are also only two continents: the Eastern continent and the Western continent. On the latter, humanity lives in harmony with elves and dwarves. It's also a world where technological progress is more advanced than on Earth.
And the body in which I've transmigrated is that of Noah, the main villain — or at least, that's what he has become.
And the pain I felt earlier must have been the entirety of Noah's life, which I experienced in mere seconds… or minutes...
"So... I'm really inside a novel, huh?"
As I pondered this absurd situation, an idea suddenly came to me. A smile spread across my face as I took a deep breath.
"Well, I've always wanted to say that," I murmured, a playful smile on my lips.
"Status."
Suddenly, a holographic interface appeared before me, as if by magic, illuminating the space with data and information.