> System Alert: Hidden Narrative Node Activated
— [Aria Evergreen: Heroine Route Deviated]
— [Unique Trait Unlocked: "Unwritten Potential"]
— [Player Observation Recommended]
---
The garden was unusually quiet.
Even the enchanted birds—normally chirping pre-recorded loops of morning melodies—had gone still. Aria Evergreen knelt beside a bush of golden roseblossoms, a pristine smile on her lips and a gleam of confusion in her eyes.
Something wasn't right.
Again.
It had started small. A misfired magic spell that had never gone wrong before. A quest log that vanished and reappeared. Then last night, a dream—except it hadn't felt like a dream.
It had felt like… someone else's memory.
---
Not the Heroine You Remember
Aria Evergreen had always known her role.
She was the sunshine. The savior. The bright-eyed girl from a small village who discovered she had a rare affinity with divine light magic and a mysterious past that conveniently tied her to the royal bloodline. Everyone adored her. Everyone had to.
She was, after all, the heroine.
That's how the game worked.
But lately… the lines weren't so clear.
She used to wake with her system whispering cheerful guidance in her head. "Talk to the Prince." "Help the Villainess redeem herself." "Go shopping for healing potions."
Now?
Silence.
Then, one night, a whisper. A different voice.
"She's not supposed to win this time."
She had jolted upright in bed, heart racing.
That voice hadn't sounded like the system. It hadn't sounded like anyone in this world.
It had sounded like her.
But older. Bitter. Cold.
---
Today, the System Glitched Again.
As she picked a golden rose, its petals shimmered and turned to ash in her hand.
> System Error: Invalid Item ID — [GoldHeart_Rose-02]
> Replace with fallback asset?
[YES] / [NO]
She blinked.
"Fallback asset?" she echoed aloud.
The air flickered. The rose bush blinked out for a fraction of a second, then reappeared with lavender blooms instead. Something was rewriting itself in real-time—and for once, she hadn't cast a spell.
She stood quickly, glancing around the garden.
Everything looked normal.
But she could feel the lie.
"Who's messing with my world?" she whispered.
And then, from the shadows of the hedge maze, a voice answered:
"Technically? You are."
---
Mirror Aria
She spun.
Standing a few meters away was a girl who looked just like her.
No. Not just like her.
Exactly like her.
Same curls. Same dress. Same eyes.
But darker. Paler. Sharper. Her reflection's smile was tilted just a little too far. Her posture too elegant. Her eyes… too aware.
"Who are you?" Aria asked, voice shaky.
The reflection tilted her head. "Think of me as… your rewrite."
"What rewrite? I don't need rewriting. I'm the heroine—"
"Exactly," Mirror Aria said softly. "You were written to win. And isn't that suspicious?"
---
Truth Bombs and Broken Tropes
The copy stepped forward. Aria instinctively summoned her magic, golden light flaring around her fingers.
But the reflection didn't flinch.
"You were never meant to be a person," Mirror Aria continued. "Just a reward. A symbol. A checkbox to tick. 'Heroine Route Achieved.' Did you really think that was living?"
"I help people. I fight evil. I matter."
"Do you?"
Mirror Aria's voice turned pitying.
"Do you really think the people love you—or the version of you that was programmed to be perfect?"
Aria's magic trembled.
The words felt like acid under her skin.
Because she'd been wondering the same thing.
---
Internal Monologue.exe
She remembered Ren—no, Seraphine.
How they defied every trope. How they were messy and cruel and strangely… real.
She remembered feeling jealous.
Not of the attention Seraphine received.
But of the fact that she didn't seem to care about the script.
Seraphine existed on her own terms. Aria existed… for the player.
Mirror Aria stepped closer, until only the rose hedge divided them.
"You don't have to follow their story anymore."
"I'm not like her," Aria said. "I'm not a villainess."
"You're not a heroine either."
Silence.
And then:
"You're a blank page."
---
Rewrite Offer: Accept or Decline?
> System Notification: Rogue Entity [Mirror Aria] attempting synchronization
— [Risk Level: UNKNOWN]
— [Potential Effect: Full Autonomy]
— [Proceed?]
She stared at the flickering prompt hovering in her vision.
What would happen if she said yes?
If she allowed herself to become more than the script?
To make choices that weren't handed to her with glowing sparkles and morality bonuses?
Her fingers hovered over the invisible button.
"No," she whispered. "Not yet."
Mirror Aria nodded slowly. "Smart."
"I need to know who I am without you telling me."
Mirror Aria's smile faded, replaced with something unreadable.
"You've got until Act IV, sweetheart," she said, before dissolving into digital mist.
---
Back at the Palace...
Seraphine stirred from a restless sleep.
She jolted upright, drenched in sweat.
The memory of the Mirror Realm still clung to her—her corrupted double whispering promises of "better endings" and "real authorship."
Caelan was gone.
A note on the side table read: "Training field. Breakfast later. Don't die while I'm gone."
It was romantic. For him.
She rubbed her temples.
Something felt off. Not just with her. With the entire narrative.
Like pieces were being moved behind the scenes.
And somewhere, in the back of her mind, a warning echoed:
"The heroine is waking up."
---
END OF CHAPTER