The Third Scenario descended like a hammer.
The sky peeled apart in streaks of red lightning, and the air shimmered with heat and menace. Screams echoed from buildings as the system messages rained down in fluorescent text only visible to the players. Kim Dokja barely had time to read the title.
[Third Main Scenario: The Gilded Hunt]
Objective: Eliminate the Designated Prey. Time Limit: 6 hours.
The words glowed briefly before vanishing. A cruel game, yet again. But this time, something was off.
His eyes scanned the street. People were scattering, survivors scrambling into alleys and behind wreckage. And in the middle of it all, she stood still.
The girl — the reader.
She hadn't given her name, and yet Kim Dokja couldn't stop thinking about her. Every instinct told him to be wary, to see her as a variable that didn't belong. But there was something else — a tug in his gut that reminded him of himself, back when he first woke to this nightmare with knowledge no one else had.
He moved toward her.
"We need to move," he said sharply. "The scenario's already begun. Standing still makes us prey."
"I know," she replied without looking at him. "But the prey isn't just a monster this time. It's a person."
Kim Dokja stopped mid-step. "How do you know that?"
"I told you," she turned to him. "I read the story."
He narrowed his eyes. "Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse doesn't have a Third Scenario like this. The prey was never a person."
"Not in your version," she replied, voice calm. "But you're not reading it anymore, are you?"
The implication stung more than he expected. His copy of the novel had ended the moment the real scenarios began. He had assumed the world was following a fixed path — but if she had continued reading after he was trapped inside…
"Are you saying the story's still being written?" he asked slowly.
She gave a half-shrug. "Something like that. But the writer isn't who you think."
Before he could respond, another message flashed before them.
[Alert: You have been designated as 'Prey'. You are now a target in The Gilded Hunt.]
Time froze. Dokja felt the blood drain from his face. The system didn't care about fairness — it just assigned roles, twisted the rules. But this time, it had named him.
He barely had time to react before a shriek pierced the air and a flaming spear embedded itself in the concrete inches from his foot. His head snapped toward the rooftop — three attackers, moving fast, eyes lit with murderous intent.
"They're coming," the girl said, as though commenting on the weather.
"No shit," he hissed. "Any plans?"
"Yes." She reached into her coat and pulled out an unfamiliar item — a silver card engraved with glowing symbols. She tossed it to him. "You'll need that."
He caught it instinctively. A message blinked across his vision:
[You have acquired the Item: Plot Fragment - 'False Death']
"What the hell is this?" he asked, already moving as the next wave of projectiles rained down.
"It's a narrative token," she shouted over the roar. "It lets you fake your death once. They'll think you're gone. Use it wisely."
"Where did you even get this?"
She didn't answer — instead, she darted toward an alley, dodging a blade that sliced through the air where her neck had been.
Kim Dokja followed, sprinting at full speed. Whoever this girl was, she had tools — knowledge — even power that felt outside the scope of his story. And it terrified him.
They crashed into a ruined bookstore, its shelves long burned, the smell of old paper hanging in the air like ghosts. Dokja slammed the door shut behind them and slid a rusted beam across it.
Panting, he turned to her. "Talk."
She didn't hesitate. "You're not the only one who entered the story, Kim Dokja. But the way I came in… it was different. I wasn't meant to be here — not like you. I wasn't chosen. I fell in."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I wasn't part of the narrative. I was a background character. But then something changed. I started remembering pages I hadn't read yet. Words that hadn't been written. And then I met someone… someone outside the story."
Kim Dokja blinked. His mind reeled at the idea. Someone outside the story? The Constellations, maybe? The writer? Was she hinting at them?
"You're saying the story is… sentient?"
"Not just sentient," she said, stepping closer. "It's hungry. It wants things. Conflict. Drama. Sacrifice. It's feeding off us."
For a second, silence.
Kim Dokja looked down at the card in his hand. The 'Plot Fragment'. Even the items were pieces of narrative. Weapons made of tropes. Lives traded for arcs. It had always felt theatrical, but now…
It was predatory.
"We have to destroy it," he whispered.
She nodded. "Or rewrite it. Together."
His head turned. "Together?"
"You're the protagonist. But what happens when the protagonist meets another reader?" she asked, tilting her head. "Someone who doesn't follow the script?"
Another crash echoed above them — the hunters weren't far.
Dokja knew he was standing on a precipice. His knowledge was no longer absolute. The world was evolving. And the story — his story — was no longer entirely his.
But the idea of breaking the narrative, of confronting the hidden hand behind it all… it sparked something in him. A new kind of survival.
He gave a slow nod. "Fine. We work together."
She smiled again, that same quiet smile from before — part mystery, part promise.
Then the roof exploded.
The hunters had found them.
Kim Dokja barely had time to activate the card before the fire consumed him. But as the flames surged forward and the world went white, he heard her voice in the distance:
"See you on the next page."
End of Chapter 2