(MC's POV)
The bright lights beamed down on me as I stood on the stage, staring into the crowd of confused faces. I could hear their whispers, feel their eyes, sense their judgment. The silence was deafening, but I broke it with a single word.
"Me?"
My voice echoed across the stage. The audience stilled. I raised my chin and took a step forward, the shadows clinging to me like armor.
"I am Crow."
"A man... filled with vengeance."
There it was. The declaration. Heavy. Final. I could feel my heart pounding, not out of fear, but exhilaration. The kind of high that only came from crossing a line you can never uncross.
I looked over to the edge of the stage, where Leo—my brother—stood, eyes wide in disbelief. That face… That was what I wanted to see. That mixture of shock, concern, and realization.
Good. This is it. This is what I want.
I grinned to myself. No—I smirked. Not the smirk of a hero triumphant, but the smirk of someone who had long since given up on the idea of saving the world. The smirk of someone who knew the truth:
The strongest villains are not born.
They're made.
And I…
I would show them the strongest villain yet.
No, he wasn't truly a villain. Not really. He was broken. Shattered into pieces no one cared enough to pick up. A villain only because the world failed to understand his pain. Villains... they all have sad stories, don't they?
And me?
"Kekeke… I'm really a genius."
"If I'm going to fall… then I'll fall spectacularly."
You're probably wondering why.
Why I said those things.
Why I did those things.
Well…
Let me take you back.
Back to when I was 14 years old.
Back to when everything changed.
Back to when I was still just a kid…
Before Crow was born.
….
Hello, guys. I'm Tyler. Yeah, Tyler Foster—Leo's older brother. The one who "died." Or at least, that's what everyone thinks. But before you get confused, let me tell you the whole story. Why I faked my death. Why I disappeared. And how it all started when I was just 14.
Okay, so rewind a bit. When I was 13, back in 2006, everything changed. Our parents died—tragically. Just like that. Leaving me, Leo, and our grandma Helen. She's tough, but loving, and she's been taking care of us ever since.
I won't lie. After that, I was pretty depressed. But I tried really hard not to show it—especially in front of Leo. He was only 4 years old. Too young to understand what happened, and honestly, me and Grandma were all he had left.
So I put on a mask.
I had to be strong. For him. For Grandma. For all of us.
But inside? It felt like I was drowning.
That's when I found my escape.
Cartoons, Anime. Comics. Manga. Manhwa. Manhua. Light novels. Whatever I could get my hands on.
I threw myself into those worlds—the heroes with impossible powers, the epic battles that saved worlds, the tragic characters who never gave up.
It wasn't just entertainment anymore. It became my lifeline.
Every episode, every page, every story, it was like breathing. Like for a few hours, I could forget the pain, the silence of our empty house, the ache of loss.
I started to believe not just in heroes, but in destiny.
That maybe... just maybe... there was something bigger out there waiting for me.
Something epic.
Something worth fighting for.
And that belief? It saved me.
Anyway, time flew by. Now I'm 14 years old, and my little brother Leo? He's five now. I pamper that kid like crazy. Seriously, I spoil him so much you'd think I was trying to win a Best Big Brother award or something.
And guess what? He watches anime and cartoons with me now—kekeke.
Yeah, I totally pulled him into my world of fantasy and superpowers. He doesn't mind though. Actually, I think he loves it just as much as I do. Every time he imitates Goku or pretends to throw a Rasengan, I can't help but laugh.
Oh, right—before I forget. My school? It's called Humboldt Creek Middle School, right here in Humboldt Park, Chicago.
So yeah, I'm a second-year middle schooler now. Not exactly a shining star or anything, but I've made a few friends along the way. Most classmates know me as the "anime guy" or the "weird kid with a big imagination."
But there are two people—just two—who never made me feel weird about it.
My best friend, Harry Frees.
He's one of those guys who seem like they have everything—tall, good-looking, confident. One of the popular students, no doubt. Tsk… honestly, it's kind of annoying how cool he is.
And then there's Lily Croft.
Also popular. Also gorgeous. Smart, kind, and for some reason… she hangs out with us. With me. I still don't get it. I mean, come on. What's a guy like me doing being friends with two people like them?
Anyway, that morning, I was heading to school, lost in thought as usual—probably imagining I had some hidden power awakening inside me—when I spotted Harry near the school gate.
"Harry!" I called out, raising my hand.
He turned and flashed that perfect grin of his.
"Tyler!!" he replied.
And then I saw her—standing right behind him.
Lily Croft.
Wearing that signature calm smile of hers, her long brown hair swaying in the breeze. She looked like she walked straight out of a shoujo anime.
Those two... they're the people I trust the most. The only ones who see past my quirks. Who treat me like I'm not just some weird kid pretending he's the main character of a fantasy world.
As I walked up to them, I adjusted my backpack and tried not to smile too much. I had to keep up some level of mysterious main character energy, after all.
"You guys always get here before me," I said, pretending to be annoyed.
"That's because you live like... three blocks away, lazy." Harry grinned, slapping my shoulder.
"He's got a point," Lily added with a light chuckle. "We've been waiting for like ten minutes. Did you get distracted watching anime again?"
I blinked.
"...No?"
They both raised an eyebrow at the same time.
"Naruto?" Harry guessed.
"Dragon ball?" Lily followed up.
"...Okay, maybe a little."
They laughed, and I felt myself relaxing. These two were the only ones who could call me out and not make me feel embarrassed about it. It wasn't like the others at school who just rolled their eyes or called me names. With Harry and Lily, it was different. It felt safe.
We started walking through the school gates together.
The morning light poured across the schoolyard like a spotlight, students buzzing around us—some chatting, others yawning, most glued to their agenda . It was loud and chaotic, but this little trio? We had our own rhythm.
"Oh yeah," Harry said suddenly, "Did you finish that English homework? Miss Barton's gonna flip if we forget again."
"I finished half of it," I muttered. "But I got distracted trying to rewrite a scene in my head where a cursed warrior saves a demon princess from the clutches of—"
"—Your own imagination," Lily interrupted, teasingly. "Tyler, you really need to write these down. You could totally turn them into stories."
"Who says I haven't already?" I smirked, tapping my bag. "I've got notebooks filled with lore. Whole worlds, secret powers, betrayals, system mechanics—"
Harry leaned over to Lily.
"I swear, he's already written the next Marvel multiverse in that backpack."
"Yeah," Lily giggled. "And he's the main character in every version."
"Well, obviously," I said, puffing out my chest. "I'm not just the main character... I'm the villain too. And the final boss. And the secret ally."
They laughed again, but they weren't mocking me. That was the best part. They never did.
We reached our lockers, and I started to dial in my combination. I could hear other students talking nearby. A few glanced our way. One of them muttered under their breath.
"There's the freak and his babysitters."
I paused.
I felt Lily step a little closer beside me. Harry, on the other side, didn't say anything, but his jaw clenched just a little.
I just smiled.
Let them talk. I'd learned to wear that stuff like armor by now. Their words couldn't pierce me anymore—not when I'd already been through so much worse.
"Want me to punch them in the face?" Harry muttered, voice low but serious. He wasn't joking.
I shook my head, still smiling, though my hands tightened slightly on my locker door.
"Nah, let them talk, Harry. They're not worth it."
Harry exhaled sharply, shoulders tense. "Okay. Just let me know."
That was Harry for you. Loyal like a knight, reckless like a storm. He didn't always say much when I was hurting, but he always acted. If I ever said "yes," he'd be swinging fists in under a second.
Lily, standing a little behind us, looked at me quietly. Her eyes softened, and she gave me a small, knowing smile. She didn't say anything either—but I could tell. She knew it stung, even if I pretended otherwise.
….
We entered homeroom like usual. Ms. Jennings was already there, writing the day's agenda on the whiteboard with her usual rushed handwriting. Harry slid into the seat next to mine, while Lily sat diagonally behind us. The classroom smelled like dry-erase markers, old books, and floor wax. Just another Tuesday.
Or so I thought.
At first, everything was normal. Kids chattered. Chairs scraped the floor. The usual classroom chaos. I leaned back in my chair, about to zone out again like always—until I felt it.
A faint tug.
Like someone invisible had just pulled a thread tied around my chest. It wasn't painful, but it was sharp. Immediate. A jolt of awareness, like waking up just before falling in a dream.
And then, the lights flickered. Not the usual flicker when the power blips—this one was slow. Rhythmic. Almost… intentional.
I sat up.
No one else seemed to notice. Harry was doodling a basketball on his notebook. Lily was just looking at the lecture. Ms. Jennings didn't even pause her lecture.
But the flickering continued. One... two... three pulses.
And then—
[OmniScript System Initialization… Complete.]
A glowing text—not from any screen—appeared right in front of me. Mid-air. Floating. Glitching in and out like some kind of game overlay.
[Welcome, Host.]
[System Authority: 100% Access Granted.]
[Awaiting Primary Directive...]
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
What the...
I blinked. Rubbed my eyes.
Still there.
The letters glowed a soft white, pixelated at the edges, almost holographic. It looked exactly like one of those system windows in the manhwa I used to read. You know, the ones where the MC gets some insane power and levels up by hunting monsters or rewriting fate or something.
Wait a minute...
Is this—
Is this my golden finger?!
You know, the cheat system. The one every reincarnated or transmigrated protagonist gets. "Welcome, Host.""System loading...""Level up!" That whole deal.
No way.
I mean, yeah, I used to joke about it. Wishing for a system to just drop into my life like it does in those novels. But now?
This felt real. Too real.
I tried to stay calm, but my heart was pounding like crazy.
[Note: System visibility currently restricted to Host only.]
Great. So only I can see this.
Figures.
While I sat there, internally spiraling, a voice snapped me out of it.
"Hello? Tyler?"
Harry's voice. His hand waved in front of my face.
I jolted slightly. "Oh—uh, sorry! I was just... too deeply immersed."
Harry raised an eyebrow but smiled. "Dude, don't zone out this early in the morning."
Then Lily leaned forward from her seat and smirked.
"Let me guess—Dragon Ball again?"
I laughed, trying to sound normal. "Yeah, yeah, you caught me. Kamehameha dreams again, I guess."
I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing back at the floating text—still there, just calmly hovering.
Lily chuckled and sat back. "Nerd."
I stuck my tongue out at her.
But inside?
My mind was racing.
If this really is a system... then what do I even say? What do I do? Is there a command? Do I think it? Say it? Write it?
And then the text shifted.
[Tip: The OmniScript System is voice-activated or mentally prompted. Speak or think your intention to proceed.]
I gulped.
This is really real!!
To be continue