THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 1 1: Between two worlds (1)

Between two worlds

"They say you never truly appreciate something until you've lost it first."

– September, 2026 –

Snow barely escaped a fatal strike that would have claimed his life, saved only by his lightning-fast instincts...

"No. This isn't working."

The conflict had pushed both combatants to their absolute limits. Every block and every thrust radiated pure desperation—a shared craving to end the struggle.

"…And this isn't working either."

---

Total fatigue finally claimed me.

I leaned back heavily in my chair, realizing I had spent countless hours staring at the monitor. To anyone walking past my door, the frantic rhythm of clicking keys would have been constant—words had flowed out of me with strange intensity today.

I had lost all track of time, completely submerged in the world my imagination had birthed. By the time I finally emerged from that state, the room was dark, lit only by the glowing screen. I pulled out my phone and checked the clock: 2:00 AM.

"Well. That got out of hand."

With a heavy sigh, I powered down and tumbled onto the bed. I spent a few moments scrolling mindlessly through digital nonsense—cat memes, strange conspiracies, and a guide on folding napkins into birds. Sleep pulled me under before I could think too deeply.

In my exhausted state, I failed to notice the date.

I didn't realize that on this very day, I had officially entered my twenty-fifth year.

...

Early Morning

Predictably, I couldn't get myself out of bed—hardly a surprise after such a late night.

Fortunately, an alarm clock was never necessary.

A soft shake woke me up as my mother’s voice pierced the morning haze:

"Wake up! You'll be late for work. Did you stay up writing that novel again? I've told you a thousand times not to lose track of time when you do that!"

I forced myself into a sitting position, her lecture entering one ear and exiting the other. My eyes were still blurry, yet she had already begun her daily symphony of complaints.

I didn't mind it, though. Honestly, I could have set multiple alarms, but I simply preferred this. A 25-year-old man who still needs his mother to wake him up—it sounds pathetic, doesn't it? But I didn't care what others thought.

"Morning," I muttered.

She continued her lecture as I staggered toward the bathroom, her voice echoing down the hallway. *Hurry, hurry!* So, I hurried.

It had been two years since I graduated and one long year of searching for work. Now, here I was: a working professional, "adulting," a junior member of the corporate world. I was still a novice, which meant there was no room for mistakes.

After showering, I threw together a somewhat "stylish" outfit (a failed effort) and sat down for breakfast with Dad.

Our relationship was easy. Why wouldn't it be? His eldest son had checked every box: a degree, a job, and independence. He asked for nothing more from me.

The atmosphere remained cheerful even when my younger siblings joined us—students still grinding through their education.

After a bit of teasing, we all piled into the car. My father was the driver, but this time I sat in the rear with my brothers because Mom had decided to come along.

The family noise didn't bother me. After spending years away at university, I cherished these moments.

In truth, I had the money to move out whenever I wanted. But who would actually want to? Not me. I intended to enjoy these days with them for as long as possible.

"I love my life," I whispered to myself.

A loving family, a steady job, and lifelong friends. What else could I ask for? If I were born a thousand times, I would choose this life every time. It was the modest peak of my desires.

As the car moved forward, I pulled my laptop from my bag, intending to check over the work I did last night.

My youngest brother immediately leaned over my shoulder.

"Did you write a new chapter?! What happened? Did the hero win? Did he use the light sky technique?"

I suppressed a groan. Here we go again.

Smiling, I answered his questions—a routine as predictable as the rising sun. I saw my father’s amused expression in the rearview mirror.

"Your brother really loves your novel."

Of course he does. Why else would he pester me every time I update?

"Glad my biggest fan's my own little brother," I laughed, ruffling his hair before looking back at the screen.

"The land of survival"

It was a story I had started during my college years—a simple hobby that turned into an obsession and a way to express my wildest thoughts.

The readers enjoyed it, and I loved creating it. Sure, the plot was a trope: demons invading the realm of men.

However, the charm came from the protagonist's life at a magic academy—sword duels, spells, and complicated romances. Demons! Magic! School drama! Interesting characters! It was the kind of thing anyone would enjoy. Even I was obsessed with writing it.

Still, it was just a hobby. That is why, years later, the story remains unfinished. Readers often complained about my slow updates, and they weren't wrong. I started it a long time ago, but chapters came out like rare drops of water.

I'll admit, it made me a decent amount of money. But I wasn't going to tether my entire life to writing. My creativity wasn't infinite, even if the readers were always hungry for more.

Want more? Go to hell.

The novel will conclude eventually… but not today.

With that final thought, I closed the laptop.

Suddenly, the view outside the car window vanished. It was replaced by a light so intense it burned my eyes—I flinched back, but before I could recover, everything faded away.

There was no time to breathe and no chance to memorize my family's faces. Only a suffocating darkness remained, consuming the entire world.

"When you think everything is going perfectly, the world decides to flip you off."

---

September, 2326 (300 Years After the Gates Catastrophe)

Lost in the depths of unconsciousness, drifting through the dark...

The sound of distant footsteps approached, followed by a quiet voice calling out—

"My Lord."

"Wake up... My Lord."

"Wh-what...?"

My eyes opened slightly, trying to make sense of where I was. Before I could understand anything, a sharp spike of pain shot through my head. I gripped my skull, teeth clenched against the suffering.

"Ugh... What the hell is going on?"

I whispered with effort, waiting for the soft voice to reply.

"Lord Starlight, are you alright?"

I turned toward the sound and saw a stunning girl with black hair and skin as white as porcelain. She was wearing a maid outfit that looked like it came from an anime. She stood there politely, waiting for instructions, though I noticed a flicker of contempt in her eyes.

Scanning the room, I realized she was standing quite far away because the bed I was on was massive. Could you even call this a bed? It was large enough to play a game of football on.

The chamber was enormous—white marble floors that reflected the light, high walls, and modern lighting on the ceiling that clashed with the rest of the room's style.

"Who designed this place?" It looked like a 17th-century architect had been forced to work with a 21st-century tech enthusiast. It was a chaotic mess of different eras.

The room was fully stocked with every luxury and filled with furniture, including a desk in the corner.

"Where... am I?"

I remembered being in the car with my family, on my way to work, and then... Ugh.

Another headache hit me, the same throbbing pain I'd felt since I woke up.

*I need to figure out my location.*

I pushed the blankets aside. I was dressed in simple gray and black sleepwear over my bare skin.

"Wait... My body?"

One look at myself made me freeze. "Is this even me?"

Pale skin and a perfect body without a bit of fat. I hadn't been overweight before, but I definitely had some soft spots. What I saw now was completely different from my actual body.

Suddenly, panic began to rise...

The maid, still standing still in the corner, noticed this. She bowed quickly and looked at me with concern.

"My lord, are you feeling well? You have been acting unusual since you woke up..."

"Your Lord...?" I whispered, unable to comprehend what she said.

"Where am I? Is this some kind of medieval play?"

"Wait... What did you call me just now?"

A horrific realization started to form, and a wave of fear ran through my body.

The maid tilted her head at my question. "What did I call you? Do you mean 'Your Excellency'?"

"No—*before that*!" I scrambled across the bed toward her, closing the gap.

Startled by my sudden movement, she flinched and stuttered, "F-forgive me, my lord. Perhaps I made a mistake in how I addressed you. I beg your pardon—"

Before she could finish, I yelled, "Stop the nonsense and tell me the fucking name you called me!"

I lost all restraint in that moment—overwhelmed by fear and the splitting pain in my head. A part of me already knew the truth, but I tried to deny it... until her final words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

She backed away, shaking, and whispered,

"L-Lord Starlight..."

"Starlight..."

I repeated the name, my voice trembling.

"Impossible..."

This has to be a dream, right?

What kind of sick joke is this? If this is a prank, it isn't funny...

Starlight—a name that existed in only one place: The land of survival, the very novel I had spent years writing.

I leapt off the bed, ordering the terrified maid to show me a mirror. She looked at me as if I had lost my mind but stammered, "T-there is a bathroom attached, my lord... through that door."

I ran inside before she could even finish. The bathroom was ridiculously fancy, like something built for royalty. But I didn't care. I hurried to the large mirror—and stopped dead.

My greatest fear was looking back at me.

"Who... are you?" I whispered, touching the glass.

The person in the reflection was a stranger: black hair styled perfectly despite my state; large, dark eyes; and a face with inhumanly perfect features. It wasn't me.

I felt sick to my stomach. The headache returned with a vengeance—like a blade carving into my skull—as a cold, robotic voice hissed in my ear:

[Synchronization initiated.]

[User memory adjusted.]

[Frey Starlight.]

That final name made everything click. Frey Starlight.

He wasn't just any character from "The land of survival."

He was the most hated villain in the entire story.

The one destined to die in every single ending.

With that realization, I completely lost consciousness as the horrible truth echoed in my mind.