Teaser: They expected a system soldier—cold, controlled, and efficient. What they got was Kael Dravenhart: the narrative enforcer designed to kill glitch arcs... who looks like he walked straight out of a fanfiction, hates harem tropes, and doesn't care if you cry.
Mira ran.
Not like a panicked extra dodging background explosions. Not like a helpless noble girl fluttering through a scene she wasn't supposed to affect. This time, she ran with awareness. With purpose. Even if she didn't know what that purpose was yet, the fear behind her steps wasn't fear of getting caught—it was fear of getting edited.
Behind her, the corridor warped. Scripted architecture rippled like water, walls glitching between castle stones and blank coding scaffolds. The narrative system was panicking.
"Keep left!" Elaria shouted from ahead. Her boots slammed against uneven terrain—carpeted palace suddenly turning to metal walkway, then back again.
"How is this possible?!" Mira yelled.
"This whole section was under revision," Elaria shouted back. "It's unstable. They sent him here to force a hard reset."
"Who?!"
Elaria didn't answer.
She skidded to a halt near a spiral landing, grabbing Mira's wrist and yanking her into cover behind a shattered statue of some forgotten heroine. The broken base still read: *Lady Thalia, First of the True Loves.* Her head was missing.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Not loud. Not rushed. Just... inevitable.
Mira peeked.
He looked nothing like the other characters she'd seen.
Tall. Black coat, buckled boots, silver-lined gloves. His sword wasn't glowing. His armor wasn't enchanted. There were no flaming wings or over-the-top backstory trailing behind him. Just presence.
And eyes like they'd been written for final chapters only.
Elaria swore under her breath. "Kael Dravenhart."
"That's him?" Mira whispered.
"The Anti-Harem."
Mira blinked. "What?"
Elaria nodded grimly. "System's response to rising trope instability. Designed during the collapse of the Harem Era. Cold, lethal, edits on contact."
Kael stopped walking. He looked directly at the statue. Directly at them.
"I see you," he said, voice low, but perfectly clear.
Mira's body tensed.
He didn't draw his sword. He didn't make a speech. He just walked straight toward them.
"Run," Elaria hissed.
But Mira didn't move.
Something about him—
"Your file's empty," Kael said to her. "You left your page blank."
Mira swallowed. "That's none of your business."
"It is now," Kael said. "Blank files destabilize subplots. You're a hazard."
"I didn't ask to be written!"
"Doesn't matter. You exist. And now you're interfering."
"Because I exist?!"
Kael stared at her. "Because you're choosing to."
His gaze shifted briefly to Elaria. "You too. You were supposed to fade. Instead you dragged her into this."
"She walked in on her own," Elaria shot back. "System's sloppy. We just noticed first."
Kael exhaled slowly. For a second, something flickered in his expression. Not emotion. Just... pause.
"I'm not here to delete you," he said. "Not yet."
"Then why—"
"I'm here to remind you," he interrupted, "that awareness isn't immunity."
He reached into his coat.
Both Mira and Elaria flinched.
But he didn't pull out a weapon. He dropped something onto the cracked floor—an item tag, old and faded.
> [Patch Fragment: Narrative Override – Type Null]
Mira stared at it.
"You'll need that," Kael said. "Soon."
Then he turned and walked away.
No chase , No battle
Just a presence leaving like a warning echo.
Elaria exhaled like she'd been holding her breath for a year.
"Okay that went way better than I expected."
"What was that?" Mira whispered, kneeling to pick up the tag, It was warm, Not with fire, but memory.
"Kael," Elaria said. "He was written to destroy genre corruption."
"But he didn't destroy us."
"Maybe he's glitching too."
Mira held the tag tighter.
Or maybe... he was just like them.
---
(Next: Mira and Elaria trace the origin of the Patch Fragment—and uncover an abandoned scriptwriter's vault deep under the narrative core. But something's still watching from the system logs.)