In one of the dorm rooms of Ironwood Hall, a lone figure sat at a desk, the soft scratching of a pen filling the silent space.
The flickering light from the chandelier nearby cast a soft glow over the parchment.
Her silhouette was unmistakably feminine, though her face remained shadowed, hidden in the dim light.
Her movements were methodical as she wrote, her thoughts racing.
"They messed up everything," she muttered under her breath.
"How did they ruin it so badly?"
The figure paused, her hand freezing mid-stroke.
She leaned back in the wooden chair, staring at the paper, frustration flickering across her features.
"This world...this game," she said bitterly, "is nothing like what I created.
It's spiraling out of control."
She tossed the pen onto the desk, her fingers rubbing her temples as if to stave off an impending headache.
"This was supposed to follow the path I wrote.
My vision. And now... now I'm stuck here.
Trapped in my own world. No, something like it."
The game world she now found herself in was similar to the one she had created—a world that had begun as a novel, one she had painstakingly built from the ground up.
It had been perfect, a complex tale with intertwined plots, deep characters, and a compelling story.
She had poured her soul into it.
That novel, "The White Demon Of The Academy," had captured the attention of many.
But then, the game adaptation had happened.
[Beyond Horizons], they had called it.
A massive project, and to her, it seemed like a dream come true.
Until it wasn't.
Her hand clenched into a fist on the table, her knuckles turning white.
"Those bastards at the company," she hissed.
"They ruined everything. My characters, my story... they changed it all."
She leaned forward, her fingers drumming against the desk.
"How did I let them scam me?
They took control of everything after I signed the contract.
I didn't realize until it was too late.
They had the rights to alter whatever they wanted.
And they did."
Her voice dropped to a low growl.
"The ending... it wasn't supposed to be like that."
The game company had twisted her beloved work.
He wasn't even in the game until recently.
She couldn't remember creating anyone like him, and she certainly didn't remember writing a character like Noah.
"He's... nothing," she whispered, narrowing her eyes.
"A third-rate character, if even that.
How is an NPC like him taking up so much space in the storyline?
Why does everything seem to revolve around him?"
She rubbed her temples again, trying to suppress the headache forming in her skull.
She had tried to understand his role, why he was so prominent in the current events.
But Noah's presence was warping the plot in ways she couldn't control.
Worse yet, it wasn't just the game storyline.
Even the remnants of the novel's plot were being bent and twisted.
And at the center of it all was him.
"If he stays," she muttered, "the story will either continue down the game's path, or worse, it'll deviate entirely from both the game and the novel.
I can't allow that. I won't allow that."
Her thoughts darkened.
Variables like Noah couldn't be allowed to stay.
He had to be removed. Eliminated.
With that, she stood, the chair scraping softly against the floor
She pulled a black academy hoodie over her head, the fabric obscuring much of her face in the dim room
As she moved, a weapon materialized in her hand.
A sleek, black object, unfamiliar to the world of magic and swords.
She looked down at it—her custom-made deagle, its surface engraved with intricate runic designs.
She slipped the gun into her waistband, hidden beneath the folds of her hoodie.
"Noah Ashbourne..." she whispered his name again, venomous and bitter.
"You were never meant to exist. And I'm going to fix that."
She took a step toward the door, her mind already coldly calculating her next moves.
There was no room for error.
Noah had to be dealt with, and fast, before his presence derailed everything she had worked so hard to build.
With a flick of her wrist, the door to her room clicked shut behind her.
A faint hum of security magic activated around the handle, locking the room in her absence.
She didn't look back.
The hallways of Ironwood Hall were dim, the only sound her soft footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
There was no hesitation in her movements, no doubt in her mind.
She would take back control of this world, no matter what it took.
"This is my story," she whispered to herself as she disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, "and no one will change it but me."