[Owen's POV]
The cold wind whistled through the shattered windows of the old Blackrose Theater, sending echoes across the dust-laden seats and broken stage. Once a haven of applause and curtain calls, now it breathed nothing but dread.
I stood outside the grand iron doors, the moonlight casting a long shadow behind . The System's notification still blinked in the corner of my vision.
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Threat: Possessed Revenant – Abandoned Theater Ruins
Threat Level: B
Status: Aggressive – Forr actor turned cursed phantom, devours human emotions
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"Devours emotions, huh?" I muttered, pulling up the hood of my black coat and adjusting the obsidian half-mask over my face. "Too bad I'm running low on those lately."
The doors creaked open with a screech that made the hairs on my neck rise. Inside, the entire theater reeked of old sorrow and rot. Broken spotlights hung from the ceiling like nooses. Curtains were torn and stained. The stage was cracked, yet still grand—like a forgotten god.
As I stepped in, the air shifted. A sudden pressure pressed down on . Cold. Heavy. Emotional.
Then ca the voice. Soft. Chilling. And familiar.
"Encore..."
A man-shaped shadow erged from the center stage, draped in a tattered cloak of velvet and black smoke. His face was covered in a shattered porcelain mask, with the faintest cracks revealing hollow eyes glowing deep red.
"The audience has returned..." he rasped, floating inches above the stage. "Co to feel again, have you?"
"Not exactly," I said, cracking my knuckles. "I'm here to shut your show down."
The Revenant scread—a distorted blend of laughter and grief—as black threads of energy lashed out from his sleeves, striking the shattered balconies and dragging ghostly figures from the shadows.
Audience illusions. Empty husks clapping, weeping, screaming—all at once.
"Let the performance begin!" he cried, launching a tendril of cursed energy toward .
I dodged, sliding across the velvet-carpeted aisle and drawing my twin beast-blades. "Your show's getting one-star reviews, freak."
He hissed and sent a wave of despair at —mories, hallucinations, echoes of pain not my own. For a mont, I saw flashes of my first life... Yvette walking Original Samuel's hollow eyes after what Abigail did. Even... my mother crying alone.
My heart throbbed.
No. Focus, Owen.
I activated Beast Instinct—my pupils dilated, vision sharpening to pick up heat, motion, and spirit.
"Nice try," I growled, "But I've already made peace with those ghosts."
I blinked forward using Shadow Step, slashing the Revenant's arm with clean precision. Black smoke hissed from the wound.
"You dare interrupt my tragedy?!" he roared.
He summoned a chorus of spectral actors—forr victims—charging from all sides. I flipped backward onto a broken chandelier and launched myself down, driving both blades into the stage. A ripple of Beast energy burst out, shattering the illusions and knocking the Revenant back.
"You were a good actor once," I said, breathing steadily. "But now... you're just a parasite feeding on mories."
He screeched, forming one last spell—"Finale: Curtain Fall!"—and the entire ceiling cracked, preparing to collapse in a do of cursed emotion.
I smiled grimly.
"Then let's end this... with a standing ovation."
I charged up my King of Beasts – Apex Howl, energy swirling violently around . My skin shimred with beast sigils as I hurled myself at him mid-air, plunging both blades into his core.
The Revenant gasped.
"You... feel... nothing..." he whispered.
I leaned in close. "No. I just stopped letting pain control ."
With a roar, I pushed all my beast aura into the blades—and the Revenant exploded into ash and fragnts of old applause.
Silence.
Real silence.
The illusions vanished. The haunting mories faded. The cursed energy dissipated.
----
Quest Complete – Possessed Revenant Defeated.
Reward Unlocked: Phantom Cloak – Grants immunity to illusion-based curses.
----
I stood alone on the stage, breathing hard. The theater was finally still.
"...Guess I finally stole the show," I muttered, wiping blood from my blade and walking out into the cold night again.
One threat down. More to co.
And Willam? Your curtain call is next.
________________________________________
[Owen's POV]
The notification flickered in my vision, its words sinking in slowly.
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Original Owen is watching you and wanted to thank you. Would you like to et him?
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I paused, standing still for a mont. The idea that the original Owen—who was more than just a na in this world—had been watching felt... strange. Had my actions truly reached him sohow, despite our differences? Despite the distance between our lives? I couldn't help but feel a tinge of curiosity mixed with uncertainty.
But before I could think much further, another notification popped up.
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Would you like to rge with your Novel's character, like Harbinger of Destruction and The Divine Executioner did, to beco the protagonist itself and end the chaos that led to your downfall?
----
I blinked, stunned, as the words burned into my mind. The concept of rging with the "original" Owen—becoming him, or rather becoming one with the protagonist—sounded like the stuff of fantasy, sothing that had only occurred to the likes of Harbinger and The Divine Executioner. They had been figures of destruction in their own rights, wiping out the lives of those who betrayed them and securing their place as true forces of nature.
But, unlike them, I wasn't the sa. I wasn't driven by simple vengeance against those who wronged —at least, not in the sa way.
I thought back to the chaos Samuel Gebb and Henry Hans created when they rged with the original Characters. They beca unstoppable.
But it wasn't just power that changed them. No, it was the loss of mories, the depression they had gone through. They had both faced unimaginable despair before they beca the forces they were.
Still, they didn't hesitate, they didn't falter. They annihilated Abigail Bardot and Katerina Maa—the won who had betrayed and destroyed them. They seriously destroyed their companies and gave them death which was seriously more Chaotic and Humiliating.
I shook my head, trying to focus on the bigger picture.
"Yvette isn't like those two," I murmured to myself, speaking aloud for the first ti. "She's not involved in Original Owen's destruction. She didn't cause this ss. It's... complicated."
But the thought of rging with the protagonist... my own self, the original Owen, had a certain allure. I had the power. The potential. But there was a risk, a very real one.
I thought about the consequences.
rging with the protagonist ant that I'd fully beco that version of Owen—the version that lived through everything my original self did. His mories, his pain, his struggles, would all flood my mind. There was a chance I might lose myself completely, becoming nothing more than a shadow of that original life.
But I wasn't Samuel Gebb. I wasn't Henry. I wouldn't bow down to my past. I had already overco much of that despair and loss.
Still, there was one thing that made this decision harder than I expected.
What about Yvette?
She was part of this world—part of my world, at least. In so twisted sense, she was the one who still held onto pieces of that past, no matter how much she tried to push away. Did I want to burden her with more of the chaos? Would I beco sothing she could never understand?
Then, as if the System knew my thoughts, another notification appeared.
Would you like to accept the rging and beco the protagonist itself? Or decline and continue your current path?
My mind raced.
"Is this really the path I want to take?" I thought aloud, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my blade, the chill of the night air cutting through my coat. "I could beco unstoppable. But at what cost? I could change everything. Rewrite the past."
I grinned wryly. "But I've already done that, haven't I?"
What was I really afraid of? The power, the chance to make things right, was right in front of . And yet, sothing inside hesitated. Was it fear? Or was it doubt?
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. If I truly wanted to break free, to change everything for good... then I would need to stop running from my past.
The truth was, I had already been running all this ti. Hiding behind masks, behind distractions. And now, I had the chance to face it head-on. To beco the real Owen. To gain everything I deserved.
The path of the protagonist... It was my path.
I opened my eyes and spoke, voice firm: "Alright. Let's end this, once and for all."
The notifications blinked, confirming my choice.
rging Process Beginning.
A surge of power washed over . My body trembled slightly as mories, experiences, and emotions that were not my own began to flood my mind. I saw flashes of the original Owen's life—his struggles, his fights, his pain. The relationships he had built, the people he had loved and lost.
It was overwhelming, but in that mont, I felt it.
The clarity. The understanding.
I was him. But I was also . The past, the future, everything was mine to control.
I felt a wave of coldness wash over —the despair, the loneliness, everything that had driven the original Owen to make the choices he did. It was all here now, but it didn't consu . It didn't define .
I was more than just the protagonist now. I was a new force, a new path.
The rging process finished.
I stood tall, the air around shimring with power.
This is my story now.
And as the pieces of the past fell into place, I couldn't help but smile. There was nothing left to fear. I would beco the force of change, not just for myself—but for everyone who had been affected by the chaos my father and his family had started.
I was ready to end it all.
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