I was walking around the library when I came across the fantasy section. I had always loved fantasy books, so I practically sprinted through the shelves, trying to find something that could hook me in and ease my boredom.
It had already been about 45 minutes when I finally found one. I grabbed the book and read the title:
"The Sealed Realms."
It seemed interesting enough, so I skimmed through it—only to realize it was terrible. It was full of plot holes, inconsistencies, and formatting errors. It was almost impossible to read. Worse yet, it wasn't even finished.
Confused, I flagged down one of the library workers and asked about the book. They checked the system, but… it wasn't even registered in the library's records.
That made no sense.
Still, in my boredom—or maybe out of instinct—I thought:
"If it isn't in the system… why not try to fix it? Maybe make it actually comprehensible…"
So I started annotating it. Corrections, comments, lore fixes. I began restructuring its world, reworking the characters, plugging plot holes, and slowly bringing order to the chaos. The more I edited, the more the story began to stabilize.
And somehow, it actually started to become... good.
I spent every waking moment of my life fixing that book, slowly piecing it together. I was only thirteen when I first found it.
Now I'm twenty-seven.
How time flies, doesn't it?
I spent fourteen years rewriting a book that never had an ending and whose author had simply vanished. And strangely, those years were… fun. It's kind of sad that it's all over now.
After all, today is the day.
The day I finally finished the book.
Fittingly, on my 27th birthday. How laughable.
Honestly, it's kind of pathetic when I think about it. I even skipped my college entrance exams at eighteen to keep working on it. Was it really worth it?
I don't know.
But it's far too late to start regretting it now.
As I drifted into a deep sleep, the book still resting in my hands, I felt strangely at peace.
Then I woke up.
The entire building was shaking—like it was moments away from collapsing. Screams echoed all around me, loud and panicked.
Then, a massive tentacle burst through the floor.
I was on the third floor at the time, and through the massive hole it left behind, I could see people running below in utter chaos.
What the hell was going on?
Was I imagining this?
Had I finally lost it after dedicating most of my life to fixing that damn book?