The Girl Who Was Supposed to Die
Pain.
That was the first thing she felt.
Not a headache.
Not dizziness.
Pain.
Burning pain.
It felt as though molten metal was flowing through her veins.
Her entire body trembled.
Her chest tightened.
Something inside her was breaking apart.
Or being rebuilt.
She wasn’t sure which.
“What is happening to her?!”
A woman’s voice.
Panicked.
Distant.
“Her mana is unstable!”
Another voice.
A man this time.
Then chaos.
Footsteps.
Shouting.
Someone crying.
The girl tried to open her eyes.
Failed.
Everything hurt.
The world spun.
The last thing she remembered was lying in bed.
Scrolling through her phone.
Reading a terrible fantasy novel she should have dropped two hundred chapters ago.
And now—
A sharp wave of agony exploded through her body.
She gasped.
Her eyes snapped open.
Dark ceiling.
Stone walls.
Massive room.
Not her bedroom.
Definitely not her bedroom.
She stared upward.
Blinking.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Nothing changed.
“...What?”
Her voice sounded wrong.
Softer.
Younger.
Female.
Well.
More female than before.
That should have been alarming.
Strangely, it wasn’t even in the top five problems currently demanding her attention.
A woman rushed to her side.
Beautiful.
Black-haired.
Expensively dressed.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Thank the stars.”
The woman grabbed her hand.
“Evelyn.”
The girl froze.
Silence.
Then she slowly turned her head.
Very slowly.
Like someone approaching a wild animal.
“What did you just call me?”
The woman blinked.
“Evelyn.”
Silence.
Long silence.
Then—
“No.”
The woman frowned.
“Evelyn?”
“No.”
The girl sat upright.
Immediately regretted it.
Pain exploded through her body.
Still.
More important matters existed.
“No.”
She pointed at herself.
“I am not Evelyn.”
Another pause.
The woman looked worried.
Very worried.
The kind of worried normally reserved for people who had suffered severe head injuries.
Which, admittedly, might be fair.
The girl swallowed.
Her heart suddenly beating much faster.
Evelyn.
Evelyn.
Evelyn Dark.
A name she recognized.
A name she should not recognize.
Because Evelyn Dark was fictional.
She was a side character.
A completely irrelevant side character.
A side character who died in chapter eight.
While awakening her power.
The room became very quiet.
“...Oh no.”
The woman leaned forward.
“Evelyn?”
“Oh no.”
The woman looked even more concerned.
“Evelyn, what is wrong?”
The girl’s expression slowly collapsed into horror.
“Oh no.”
Because she remembered everything.
Dark Division.
Light Division.
White Division.
The kingdom.
The Emperor.
The war.
The kidnapping.
The massacre.
The ending.
Most importantly—
Her ending.
Chapter Eight.
Power Awakening Failure.
Dead.
Nobody cared.
Nobody remembered her.
The story continued without her.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
The woman stared.
“What?”
The girl covered her face.
Out of every fictional world.
Out of every fantasy novel.
Out of every possible destination.
She had somehow landed inside the worst written story she had ever read.
A story powered entirely by misunderstandings.
Questionable decision making.
And what she strongly suspected was brain damage.
She lowered her hands.
“Please tell me this isn’t the Dark Division.”
The woman blinked.
“It is.”
The girl looked toward the ceiling.
“Of course it is.”
“Young lady?”
“Please tell me Orion Dark isn’t my father.”
“...He is.”
She closed her eyes.
Wonderful.
Fantastic.
Perfect.
Because Orion Dark had seven wives.
Seven.
SEVEN.
The woman beside her happened to be Wife Number Three.
Which meant—
The girl slowly turned her head.
“How many mothers do I have?”
The woman hesitated.
“...Seven.”
Silence.
The girl stared into the distance.
Then she whispered:
“Is this reverse Snow White?”
“What?”
“What?”
Neither understood the other.
The girl groaned.
Everything hurt.
Her head.
Her body.
Her future.
Especially her future.
Because if the novel followed its original plot—
Draven Dark would eventually challenge Aurelian Light.
Aurelian would refuse.
Draven would escalate.
Rosalie White would get involved.
The Dark Division would be destroyed.
And everyone she currently shared a last name with would die.
Including her.
A cold chill ran down her spine.
For the first time since waking up, the reality truly settled in.
These people weren’t fictional anymore.
The woman holding her hand wasn’t fictional.
Draven wasn’t fictional.
Orion wasn’t fictional.
They were real.
And they were all doomed.
Unless—
A strange sensation suddenly erupted from her chest.
Dark energy flooded the room.
The air distorted.
Shadows twisted.
Everyone froze.
The woman gasped.
A black symbol slowly appeared upon Evelyn’s forehead.
The room fell silent.
Completely silent.
The servants stared.
The healers stared.
The woman stared.
Then someone whispered:
“She awakened.”
Evelyn blinked.
“What?”
The symbol burned brighter.
The darkness around her swirled like living mist.
The woman looked ready to cry.
“She awakened.”
A healer dropped to his knees.
Another looked pale.
“Impossible.”
“But she was dying—”
Evelyn looked between them.
Then at the darkness dancing around her fingers.
Then back at them.
Then back at the darkness.
“...That’s probably not good.”
Nobody laughed.
A distant bell suddenly rang through the mansion.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
An Awakening Bell.
A signal heard throughout the entire Dark Division.
The symbol upon Evelyn’s forehead glowed.
And somewhere deep within her mind—
Something opened its eyes.
And smiled.
Before she could react, a reflection in a nearby silver tray caught her attention.
For a brief moment, she saw herself.
Black hair framed her face like soft moonlit silk.
Her silver eyes shimmered with an unnatural glow.
Beautiful.
Unfamiliar.
Undeniably Evelyn Dark.
“Interesting.”
The voice did not belong to her.
Evelyn froze.
“...Nope.”
The voice laughed.
