Each time, I tried to change the ending. Tried to be kind. Tried to be invisible. Tried to betray the hero earlier, later, never. But the plot—like a black hole—always bent my actions back toward destruction. I was the cannon fodder. The narrative needed my ashes to pave the hero’s golden road.
This is not my first return. This is my .
I froze.
Just from me. "Thank you for reading. Now close the book and let us sleep. We’ll wake when you forget us. And that’s the only happy ending we’ve ever had."
Thin, silver, luminous threads stretched from my wrists, my ankles, my throat—disappearing into the darkness above. Puppet strings. And at the end of each string… a hand. xuyen thanh nam the phao hoi cua nhan vat phan dien ebook
Then a thousand new threads burst from my skin, thicker, angrier, pulsing with red light. A system notification blazed in the air: WARNING: CANNON FODDER INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. DEPLOYING EMERGENCY NARRATIVE CORRECTION. The stage cracked. The sky turned into pages—pages of the ebook, flying like locusts, wrapping around us. I grabbed Hải Đông’s hand.
One comment, pinned at the top, was different: "What if Lãnh Triệt was never the villain? What if he was the protagonist all along, and the author just didn't know it?" I laughed. The sound echoed in the empty theater. Each time, I tried to change the ending
Not heroically. Not even villainously. Just... forgotten.
Then the stage lights blazed on. And standing at the edge of the spotlight was – the hero, Hải Đông. Young, golden, righteous. His sword pointed at my throat, but his eyes… his eyes were wet. Tried to betray the hero earlier, later, never