YEAR 2099
WANESSA'S POINT OF VIEW:
I've been hungry for as long as I can remember. Not the kind of hunger you feel when you skip a meal. Not that soft, aching kind nobles whine about after a feast ends too soon. No. Back in the slums, hunger wasn't a feeling, it was a fact. Like the mud, or the stink, or the sound of rats fighting under the floorboards. I had wake up hungry. Go to sleep hungry. Dream about stealing bread and wake up with my teeth clenched like I'd been chewing air. And then the 'Great War' came.
The nobles built walls. The soldiers bled in fields. But the poor? We just starved louder. I remember watching mothers boil stones just to keep their kids hopeful for one more hour. I remember punching a boy twice my size for a bruised apple and running so fast my feet bled through my shoes. I never saw him again. Sometimes I wonder if he died that night. Sometimes I hope he didn't. Even now, sword in hand, title stolen, mask on my face she still whispers. Not for food, not anymore. I saw him once, before the war. Shining like the sun itself, hair like gold thread, armor polished so bright it blinded.
The chosen hero. The kingdom's golden boy. The favorite of gods and nobles alike. He was riding through the market with a troop of guards, tossing coins at children like it was a game. They laughed. Scrambled after the silver like puppies. I didn't. I watched. And I hated him. Not because he was rich. Not even because he was powerful. But because he looked so… full.
You can see it, when someone's never been hungry. I remember gripping a stolen crust of bread so tight my fingers bled. I remember thinking it, I want to trade places with him for one day just one.
I wasn't supposed to be there. I was just passing through the ruins, quiet, masked, looking for scraps and shadows. And there he was. The hero. All golden hair and divine light, standing on a cracked altar like he belonged there. His sword hummed with holy runes. His cloak fluttered in the wind like a damn banner. And in front of him? A monster that looked like it had crawled straight out of the gods nightmares. Teeth like spears. Eyes like black suns. Its presence made the air taste like ash. The system must've sung to him quest music, glowing 'Destiny Accepted.' All of it. He fought graceful, heroic, perfectly trained. And it almost worked.
He cut the beast down to its last breath. Blood soaked the stones, thick and steaming. The thing howled, swaying. Ready to fall. And then it didn't. The monster lurched. Its claw punched through his chest like parchment. He gasped. One soft, startled sound. Then fell. The monster stumbled. It was dying too. Slower. Messier. But dying and I stepped forward. Not to mourn. Not to save. Just to take what was left. He was still alive.
Barely. Gasping, choking on blood, eyes wide, and staring right at me as I stepped out of the smoke. He tried to sit up. Failed. His fingers twitched toward the sword a few feet away, his sword. The Sacred Blade of Dawn, still glowing faintly with dying light.
"Y-you… You have to… help…"He started.
I bent down slowly. Wrapped my fingers around the hilt. The system chimed in my ear.
"Warning - weapon bound to Hero of Light. Override pending…"A voice said.
The monster groaned behind us. Still alive. Still pulsing with cursed energy, even as it bled from a dozen righteous wounds. I stood.
"You're not going to make it." I said, voice low behind the mask. "But your sword might."
His bloodied hand reached out.
"Please…"He said.
"Don't beg." I told him. "You've never had to before. No point learning now."
Then I turned. And ran. Not from him, toward the beast. The blade felt too heavy in my hands, but my anger balanced the weight. I drove it straight through the monster's skull. Deep. Final. The beast let out one last gurgling scream, then collapsed in a heap of smoke and shadow.
"Quest Completed. Slay the Shadow King. Reward transferred -Title a Hero of Light. New Class Unlocked: Monarch (Hidden)."System said.
Behind me, the Hero choked once. A wet, broken sound. I didn't look back. I just wiped the blade clean on my cloak and whispered.
"Thanks for the assist."I said before I left.
I wasn't going to help him, more than ever I wanted to use his sword to start a brand new life.
Here's a short version of Vanessa's POV, where she learns she has to return to the Hero School:
I stood in the quiet hallway, my thoughts a whirlwind. The news had hit me like a ton of bricks.
The message from the system had just come through.
"Hero role reinstated. Immediate return to Hero academy required."System said.
I couldn't breathe for a second. Hero academy? After everything that had happened? After what I had stolen, what I had done to get here? There was no way. No way I was going back there. I wasn't ready. I wasn't meant to be there. I wasn't supposed to be hero or Villiam the quiet, unnoticed student who barely scraped by.
But the system was insistent. It didn't care about me. It didn't care about the consequences. It only cared about the mission, the role, and the expectations. I bit my lip, swallowing down the fear and anxiety. There was no escaping it. Whether I liked it or not, I had to go back. And I wasn't sure what was worse being exposed for who I really was, or facing the weight of the role I had never truly earned. With a sigh, I turned toward the door. Hero academy. It was time to face the destiny I gave to myself. I hope nobody going to find out my real identity to soon,.