Chapter 2: The Extra’s New Beginning - 2
The blue screen flickered, the [0%] stubbornly refusing to budge. My mind reeled. ’A system? Like in those other NovelFires? A game interface, stats, skills? Was this my cheat code? My way out of this mess? Or was it just a hallucination, a final, cruel joke from my dying brain?’ The high-pitched whine persisted, a phantom sound that grated on my nerves. I tried to swipe at the screen, but my hand passed right through it. It was only visible to me.
The crowd around me continued to surge towards the arena entrance, oblivious to the digital anomaly floating before my eyes. I felt a surge of desperate hope, quickly followed by an even stronger wave of despair. ’If this was a system, it was clearly broken. And it was initializing at the worst possible moment.’ My death was imminent, and my supposed salvation was stuck at zero percent.
"You there!"
The voice cut through the din, sharp and authoritative, like a whip crack. It wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable weight, silencing the chatter of those closest to me. My blood ran cold. I knew that voice. Even without having heard it before, the novel had described it: smooth, arrogant, laced with an inherent sense of superiority.
Slowly, reluctantly, I turned.
Standing a few paces away, flanked by two heavily armored guards, was a man who radiated power and disdain. He was tall, with sharp, aristocratic features, a cruel twist to his lips, and eyes the color of cold steel. His dark, tailored noble attire, adorned with subtle silver embroidery, stood in stark contrast to the common clothes of the crowd. A long, slender rapier hung at his hip, its hilt gleaming.
Theodric Von Alder.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. This was it. The moment. The one I tried to avoid. He was even more imposing than the novel described, his presence alone enough to make people instinctively step back.
His gaze, dismissive and bored, swept over me, as if I were a particularly annoying fly. "You. The scrawny one with the bewildered expression." His voice was low, but every word was perfectly articulated. "Come here."
My feet felt rooted to the cobblestones. My mind screamed at me to run, to bolt, to disappear into the crowd. But my body, perhaps still under the lingering influence of Kai Lorne’s innate subservience, or simply paralyzed by terror, refused to obey. The guards took a step forward, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.