The Room was dark.
It was late in the night. The curtains present near the window were opened enough so that at least some moonlight was reaching in the room.
A man, turned sideways, layed upon it; his one arm was beneath the pillow and the other was above his face.
A soft glow of light was shining from the phone in his hand.
It was only it’s light which managed to cut through this darkness.
His eyes were red, strained, and unfocused-but they kept moving, scrolling, reading, absorbing.
Another Chapter.
Then another.
Then another.
It simply kept going.
The title at the top of the screen remained unchanged.
"Oh My Lovely Knight."
He exhaled slowly in an almost amused expression.
"...I really went this far," he muttered.
The clock at the top of the screen blinked quietly.
3:57 A.M.
His thumb paused for half a second.
Then it scrolled again.
The novel had started innocently enough.
A noble lady who was born into chaotic environment. And a knight who fell in love with her so much that he sworn to protect her at all cost.
It wasn’t revolutionary.
Mostly, cliche stuff.
But it was engaging.
Comforting too.
The kind of story that made this boy’s time disappear without warning.
He yawned, his eyes started watering from the excess screen time, bones cracking as exhaustion finally began to set in.
"...One more Chapter," he said quietly.
The screen refreshed.
Final Chapter.
His brows lifted slightly.
"...Already?"
There was a brief hesitation.
Fatigue was at top.
Then curiosity won.
He tapped.
The words loaded.
He read.
Once.
Twice.
His expression stiffened.
"...WHAT?"
His thumb moved instinctively, scrolling upward.
Then down again.
He sat up a little cause of his disappointment.
"No. Wait. That’s it?"
WTF, WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT SH*T.
He thought.
He read the ending again.
The final battle.The ambush.The chaos.
And then—
Death.
Both of them.
No farewell.
No reunion.
Just silence.
He gripped the phone, tightly now.
"What? Really?" he said as if he could not understand what just happened."That’s how they’re gonna end it?"
He laughed with disappointment.
"So... both of them just died in the attack?" he said."That doesn’t make any sense."
"Trash AF"
He scrolled again thinking an epilogue or something which would make sense would appear.
Nothing.
No bonus Chapter.
No author note.
Just the end.
"What is this stupid novel anyway?" he said with disappointment."Hundreds of Chapters of buildup for this?"
He put his head down back on the pillow and simply stared at the ceiling.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
After a moment, he accepted the situation.
"...Well," he sighed."I can’t even do anything about it."
He was same as us other novel readers.
Novels were his only source of coping with life. With nothing new or exciting, same old boring and tedious life.
The phone buzzed faintly as the screen dimmed, waiting for input.
"My life is so boring," he continued flatly, "that I need to rely on these web novels just to feel entertained."
The words now meant nothing to him.
There was no bitterness in them.
Just truth.
He stared at the glowing screen for a long second.
Then snorted.
"Whatever."
His thumb moved.
"I’m just gonna switch to some other novel now," he said, tone lazy, tired."Hopefully better than this one."
The app refreshed.
Recommendations appeared.
His finger hovered—
—and the world shattered.
A BLINDING WHITE FLASH erupted from the phone.
Not from the screen.
From within it.
A bolt of lightning—compressed, violent, utterly unnatural—burst straight out of the device and struck his chest.
There were no clouds.
No thunder.
No warning.
Just RAW ENERGY, unleashed without reason.
His body arched violently
His fingers were bleeding..
The phone was now left by his hand.
He didn’t scream.
There wasn’t time.
It was too much pain that his body couldn’t even take the time to sense it.
Then—
Nothing.
No darkness.
No fading.
No sense of falling.
Just—
CUT.
Warmth.
That was the first sensation.
Not heat.
Warmth.
Soft.
"...Why does my bed feel so good?"
That was his first thought.
The thought felt slow, heavy, as if his mind were wading through water.
"...Why does it feel so fluffy?"
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
He tried to shift his body.
Nothing happened.
"...Huh?"
Confusion surfaced first.
Panic followed shortly after.
"...Why can’t I move?"
His breathing was steady—too steady—but his limbs refused to respond.
"...Did I pass out?"
Light filtered in.
Not harsh.
Not artificial.
Warm sunlight brushed against his closed eyelids.
"...Why is it so bright?"
He opened his eyes.
And froze.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar.
High.
Vast.
Decorated with intricate carvings that flowed like frozen vines, accented with gold that reflected the light softly across the room.
"...What is this place?"
His gaze shifted.
And found himself in a very squishy environment.
Pillows bigger than his torso surrounded him.
"...This bed is huge."
He tried to sit up again.
Failed.
"...Why can’t I pull myself up?"
He started panicking.
"...Don’t tell me I’m paralyzed."
His eyes gazed around the room.
There were tall curtains of crimson and gold colour which lined the walls, swaying gently in the breeze. Sunlight poured through massive windows which were also made of gold.
Furniture stood neatly arranged.
A wooden desk carved by hand and patterns drawn on it.
Chairs with embroidered cushions.
Decorations that screamed royalty, not luxury.
"...This room is bigger than my entire house."
His breathing qot faster.
"...This doesn’t look like a hospital."
Then—
He noticed it.
Near a drawer fitted with a tall mirror stood a cradle.
White.
Elegant.
Something inside it moved.
His breath got flustered.
Slowly, his eyes focused.
A baby.
Small.
Peaceful.
Not more than a year old.
Smooth skin.
Soft features.
Sleeping soundly.
Unaware.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared again.
"...Ehhhh?"
[To be Continued]