Tyler's POV
Six years.
Six freaking years.
It's now 2013.
2013!!!
(FUCK.)
I'm 20 years old.
And there's still no syndicate.
No ultimate boss.
No monster invasion.
No ancient demon sealed beneath the school.
No prophecy.
Not even a dude in a black coat whispering "you're not ready yet."
NOTHING.
"FUCKKKKKKKKK."
I kicked the air in my hideout, almost knocking over Slimy, who was chilling inside a cup of ramen.
(I'm Level 700 now. SEVEN. HUNDRED.)
I can create dimensions.
I can duplicate money.
I can literally bestow powers to others like I'm God handing out DLCs.
I've become something beyond mortal understanding.
I can create systems now.
FUCKING SYSTEMS.
Like, those floating window things people in novels get?
Yeah, I can make them.
I can attach them to your face if I want to.
And yet…
Nothing.
No threats.
No secret cabal trying to harvest Leo's soul.
No space rift tearing open the sky.
Just me. Sitting in my ultimate hideout.
Alone. Again. With only my creations for company.
….
It's March 2, 2013.
A Saturday.
I'm a second-year college student for some dumb reason.
I don't even know why I'm still going.
(I can print cash. I made a money tree. I hacked economics.)
And here I am.
Still pretending to be a student.
Still eating campus cafeteria food like I'm not the most powerful being on this planet.
My brother Leo is 11 now.
Still the same cute brother I have.
And also my creations are still active.
The birds, my loyal feathery recon scouts:
Recon Falcon Alpha
Operation Tweetblade
Dark Crow Unit 7
Larry
Angry Bird
And of course, Phonx—my immortal phoenix.
And Umbro—my shadow pet, curled near my foot, his red eyes glowing faintly like dying embers.
But today... someone else was in the room.
…
Her name is Bella.
My assistant maid.
A creation of my own—fully intelligent, emotionally aware, loyal.
Think Alfred from Batman, but hotter and built with premium maid aesthetics.
She wore her usual black-and-white uniform, carrying a silver tray like clockwork.
She stepped toward me.
"Your coffee, master," she said with a gentle smile.
I accepted it without looking.
"Thanks, Bella."
"You're welcome, master."
I took a sip. Perfect temperature.
Let me make this clear.
I'm not a pervert.
I didn't create Bella for that. I'm still a virgin, okay?
I created her because every powerful protagonist has a loyal assistant who says stuff like "You're the only one I serve" and helps pilot the mecha during the final battle or whatever.
Besides.
Bella isn't even a real human
She's… different. Special.
Just like me.
…
I looked around at my hideout.
Every corner filled with gadgets, spellbooks, scrolls, weapons, potions, and inventions I haven't even named yet.
And still...
I sighed, shoulders heavy with boredom.
"There's nothing left to do," I whispered.
(Why? Why did I get this system if I wasn't meant to face something huge?)
(What's the point of limitless power when there's nothing to fight for?)
Bella glanced at me.
"Is something troubling you, master?"
I gave her a tired smile.
"Nah. Just... waiting. Like always."
She bowed lightly and returned to the side of the room.
Slimy blorped from the corner.
Phonx let out a soft screech.
Umbro melted back into the shadows.
And me?
I sat there, in the dim glow of the OmniScript screen.
Just… watching.
Still no signs. Still no alerts. Still nothing.
(FUCK!!!)
I slammed the desk.
"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"
"WHAT SHOULD I DO?! WHAT SHOULD I DO?!"
My voice echoed off the walls of my hideout.
It felt like screaming into the void.
Then—
RIIINNNGGG.
My phone buzzed.
I blinked, looked down.
Leo.
My little brother.
The only real warmth in this quiet, chaotic existence.
I picked it up and smiled faintly.
"Hello, my cute little brother."
"Hello big bro... Where are you right now?"
"Miss me, huh?"
"Hehehe, I drew another pic of you!"
I chuckled, a small crack of light in the gloom.
"Hoh? Wait for me, little bro."
"Okay! I'll hang up now, I want to make this presentable!"
"Alright, see you in a bit."
"Bye-bye!"
He hung up.
Silence again—but this time, a good kind.
I stood up.
Yeah. I had to go.
Oh—and just so you know?
I may be in my room...
But my hideout? This place?
It's hidden behind a poster on the wall.
A literal 2D-looking house poster—flat, like nothing more than paper.
Inspired by Doraemon.
When I touch it?
It unfolds like origami, popping open into a dimensional door.
A personal base that only I can enter.
From the outside, it's just decoration.
From the inside? A fortress of power.
…
I stepped out from the hideout.
Back into my normal room.
Normal bed.
Normal shelves.
But deep beneath all this?
I was anything but normal.
And now?
It was time to see Leo.
….
As I stepped out of the hideout, the poster door folding back onto the wall like it had never been anything more than paper.
The air outside my room was quieter.
Softer.
Grandma Helen was probably asleep.
The clock blinked 12:17 AM.
And Leo's room still had the soft golden glow of a night lamp behind the door.
I walked over and knocked lightly.
"It's me, Leo."
"Come in, come in!"
I opened the door.
Leo, my eleven-year-old brother, was sitting cross-legged on his bed, crayons and markers all over the blanket. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
"Big bro!" he beamed, holding up a sheet of paper with both hands. "It's done!"
I took it gently.
And then I stared at it.
It was... me.
But not just me.
It was Super Tyler.
He had a long flowing black coat, shadows circling around him. A slime clinging to his leg like a sidekick.
My eyes were glowing blue in the drawing.
There was even a giant title at the top:
"THE SHADOW HERO: TYLER FOSTER!!"
I didn't say anything at first.
I just looked at it.
This little drawing—this goofy, colorful, heroic version of me—hit harder than anything.
Because it wasn't just a kid's sketch.
It was Leo's belief.
His trust in the weird older brother who always talked about secret syndicates
Leo scratched the back of his head, shifting his tiny legs under the blanket.
"I made the coat extra long so it flows in the wind. And the slime is like—your little buddy, right?"
He pointed excitedly at the sketch, where a mini, goofy-eyed version of Slimy clung to my leg like a loyal pet.
I slowly knelt down beside his bed, the mattress squeaking beneath his weight as he leaned toward me, his eyes glowing with pride.
"...You believe in me, huh?" I asked softly, my voice quieter than I expected.
Leo grinned, wide and toothy—one of his front teeth missing, giving him that crooked, innocent charm only a kid could pull off.
"Of course!" he beamed. "You're like... the hero no one sees. But I know you're cool."
The room was quiet, the glow of his night light casting warm shadows across his walls.
I ruffled his hair, and for the first time in a long time—
I smiled.
A real one.
"Thanks, Leo. Really."
I looked at him, at his sleepy eyes and pure heart, and something stirred inside me.
Something sharp.
Something certain.
(Now I know what to do…)
(If there's no villain and no hero… then I'll create them myself.)
(With the help of the OmniScript, I can design it all—build it from scratch.)
(But first… I need a perfect plot. A flawless scenario. One no one would suspect...)
A sudden yawn pulled me from my thoughts.
Leo covered his mouth with both hands, blinking slow and heavy.
I smiled again and tucked the blanket up to his chin.
"Seems like you're sleepy, buddy."
He nodded, already half-asleep.
"Mhm… Night, Tyler..."
"Goodnight, champ."
I stood, folding the drawing with care—like it was sacred—and turned off his lamp.
The room darkened except for the faint hallway glow.
I glanced back one last time.
Leo was already dreaming.
But I wasn't.
Because now, the real story begins.
…
Tyler POV
I stepped back into the hideout.
The poster-door sealed behind me with a soft whrrrp, like folding reality into wallpaper again. My sanctuary, my lab, my world.
Slimy blorped lazily on the workbench.
Phonx flapped its fiery wings once in greeting before roosting atop the glowing OmniCore crystal.
Umbro slithered beneath the floor shadows like smoke.
I cracked my neck, knuckles, and spine in one smooth motion.
"Time to create a villain."
I sat down in front of the OmniScript terminal, screens lighting up with code, schematics, world patterns, artificial memory modules. My fingers hovered above the keys.
"Let's see… A villain should have a reason, a backstory, a philosophy. Maybe even a tragic fall…"
Suddenly, a loud PING echoed through the system.
Recon feed?
I blinked and tapped the screen.
It was… Larry.
"Larry? Emergency?"
The camera auto-zoomed, tracking…
A dead crow on the pavement.
I stared.
"…Really?"
Slimy blorped loudly from his puddle corner like a snort of disapproval.
I sighed. Deep. Soul-shattering. Agony-filled.
"Larry, my guy… you scared me for nothing—"
Then I stopped.
Mid-sentence.
Mid-annoyance.
My eyes widened.
I stared at the black bird. Its still wings. Its empty glassy eye.
"…Crow."
(Crow…)
(Dark. Overlooked. Carrion bird. Ominous, but brilliant. A symbol of death. Of intelligence. Of the unknown. A creature the world doesn't know…until it shows in front of you.)
I grinned. Sharp. Mad. Inspired.
"Larry… you magnificent bastard."
The OmniScript pulsed. Awaiting input.
I whispered it like a curse. Or a prophecy.
"Let's build Crow."
I opened the Alter-Ego Registration Panel, of course I created this using my OmniScript system
My fingers danced across the screen.
USER MODIFICATION: TYLER FOSTER
ALTER-EGO REGISTRATION: CROW
ALIGNMENT: CHAOTIC BALANCE
MASK ACTIVATION: OPTIONAL
AURA TYPE: FEAR / INTELLECT / SHADOW AUTHORITY
KNOWN ALIAS: (BLANK FOR NOW)
OBJECTIVES: UNKNOWN
LEVEL: UNKNOWN
The system glowed black.
I raised my palm. The room dimmed.
A spiral of inky-black feathers burst from the ground, swirling around me like a vortex.
A half-mask of cracked obsidian snapped over my left eye.
A cloak of shadows unfurled across my hoodie, trailing behind like smoke in reverse.
My reflection shimmered in the broken mirror near the inventory gate.
I looked…
Not like a hero.
Not even like a villain.
But like a problem the world didn't want to believe existed.
(From now on… I'll orchestrate my own story. I'll be the storm. The fear. The myth.)
(Crow… is born.)
I chuckled—low and knowing.
"Now I am Crow."
But I wasn't done.
I wasn't just building a villain.
I needed a hero too.
A balance.
A narrative.
"Hmm…" I tapped my chin. "Let's build the 'hero' too."
Hero: TYLER FOSTER
ALIGNMENT: LIGHT / CHAOTIC GOOD
POWER: Conviction, Light, Shadow nullification
MISSION: DEFEAT CROW, SAVE THE WORLD
PUBLIC IDENTITY: UNKNOWN HERO
STAGE: ORIGIN
I grinned wider.
"Tyler Foster, the last light… fated to stop the man called Crow. How poetic."
But Crow's backstory? That had to be the heart. The pain. The tragedy.
I cracked my knuckles and opened my system and create what I call backstory of every character I created.
"Crow's reason to plunge the world into despair?"
I whispered as I typed.
Crow was once just a man.
Until he lost her.
Rebecca.
The only one who ever believed in him.
The girl who smiled even when the world turned its back.
She died.
But Crow wouldn't accept it.
And so… he seeks to bring her back.
To do that—he must steal the shadows of mankind.
For every shadow holds a piece of the soul.
Without a shadow, a person is hollow. Empty. Living, but not alive.
He doesn't want to destroy the world.
He just wants to bring her back.
Even if the cost… is everyone else.
I leaned back, satisfied.
Slimy blinked up at me. Bella handed me another coffee.
I sipped, sighing like a tired author after finishing Chapter 1 of a god-tier light novel.
"Of course… all of this?" I smirked.
"Just a plot. A story. A little narrative... I created."
"Kekeke…"
To be continue