The sky didn't just tear—it shattered. Celestial cracks spiderwebbed across the clouds, each one oozing with light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Constellations unraveled in real time above Irasios Academy, flickering like faulty stars on a dying screen. Everyone could feel it in their marrow: the story was bleeding.

The porcelain-masked figure didn't flinch. Instead, they raised their hand, and with a flick of their fingers, reality twisted.

Students vanished. Not by teleportation—but by erasure. They blinked out of existence like words deleted from a sentence, leaving no sound, no magical residue, no memory. Only Verena and her group remained, shielded by some unseen force—maybe the thirteenth seal's protection, maybe something deeper.

"Okay, I'm officially done pretending this is normal," Penelope muttered, gripping her sword tighter. "Are we allowed to kill moon-faced drama ghosts?"

"I'd prefer we interrogate them first," Isolde said calmly, but her threads of Bind Magic had already begun spinning from her fingertips, glinting with lethal precision.

Clarina stepped beside Verena, blade drawn. "Say the word."

Verena exhaled sharply. Her pulse was rapid, her hands buzzing with celestial energy. She was still syncing with the new weave—still adjusting to the fact that reality itself had become unanchored. But her focus remained sharp.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you mean, reset?"

The masked figure tilted their head. "This world was written by fools and maintained by liars. I am the Editor. I correct what should never have been."

Editor.

Verena's stomach twisted. "You're not from here."

"Neither are you," they replied, serene. "But at least you knew your place. You played the role of villainess well—up until you started straying from your arc."

Clarina growled. "She rewrote her arc. She earned her place."

"Exactly," the Editor said, and for the first time, there was venom in their voice. "Which is why you're a threat."

They raised their hand again, and the ground splintered beneath them. A glyph bloomed outward, circling the courtyard in a radial pattern of shifting script—runes in every language Verena had ever read, and a few she hadn't. It was a narrative seal. A reality rewrite in progress.

Then they vanished.

No teleportation spell. No magic circle. One second they were there—next, gone.

"Did they just—"

"Phase jump," Saphira said, materializing on Verena's shoulder. Her tail was rigid. "They're using a higher-tier narrative override. I've only read about it in Hollow Deep archives."

"That sounds bad," Vivienne whispered.

"Oh, it is," Saphira hissed.

The glyph pulsed again.

And then the world tilted.

Not physically. Not magically. Narratively.

The courtyard shifted in tone—colors inverted subtly, sound warped as if underwater, and every member of the team felt it in their bones: the story was rewriting around them.

"We're being recontextualized," Isolde muttered. "The Editor's forcing us into a new plot structure."

Sure enough, the air shimmered and characters began spawning from thin air—stereotypes, tropes, side characters with blank expressions and pre-written dialogue. A new "protagonist" entered the scene, glowing with golden system UI and surrounded by followers.

A transmigrator.

Another one.

The Editor was replacing them.

"This isn't just a reset," Verena breathed. "It's a hostile narrative takeover."

A glowing box appeared before her.

[New Objective: Resist Rewriting]

Anchor yourself with your chosen Arcane Role.

Your team must reaffirm their identities.

Timer: 12:00 minutes. If failed, you will be overwritten.

"Oh my gods," Penelope said. "It's a speedrun against getting replaced."

"Then don't get replaced," Clarina snapped, gripping Verena's shoulder. "You're the core. Hold fast."

Verena closed her eyes.

She was the HR Director. The Villainess. The one who should've been forgotten but clawed her way to relevance.

And she wasn't letting go.

Threads of celestial light exploded around her, binding to her team. One by one, their own auras flared—Isolde's threads gleaming razor-sharp, Penelope's sword igniting, Vivienne's dreamtide aura wrapping like soft moonlight.

Each of them clung to who they were.

Saphira looped around Verena's neck and whispered, "Ready for the rewrite?"

Verena grinned. "Let's write back harder."

They charged.

The moment they sprinted into the inverted courtyard, it was like reality fought back. Each step became heavier, like narrative gravity tried pulling them into new roles—blank templates that threatened to overwrite everything they were.

"Don't lose focus!" Verena shouted. "Stay yourself! Keep thinking like you!"

Penelope gritted her teeth, slashing through the air as two stereotype constructs emerged—both giggling, overdesigned "romanceable love interests" straight from some low-effort visual novel. "Oh look! Sword Girl's traumatized! Let's fix her with a harem!" one said in a singsong tone, dodging her first swing.

"I'm going to cut this plotline," Penelope snarled.

Meanwhile, Isolde dodged a rain of narrative tags—literal glowing words falling from the sky: "Tsundere!" "Ice Queen!" "Tragic Past!" They stuck to her like curses, but she ripped each one off with her thread magic, cutting them midair before they anchored.

"I didn't claw my way through years of abuse and high-expectation parenting just to be turned into a cliché," she muttered through gritted teeth. Her aura crackled.

Vivienne flailed behind Verena, who yanked her out of the path of a newly spawned "Childhood Friend Turned Obsessive." It had glowing heart-eyes and carried a bouquet of roses that bled actual red ink. "Let's always be together, Vee~!"

"I don't even know you!" Vivienne screamed, throwing a blast of Dreamtide that scrambled the creature's perception. It started chasing its own shadow.

Verena spun, staff glowing with mimicry threads and her own internal Form magic sparking around it. "They're not just trying to replace us—they're trying to flatten us! Turn us into tropes so we're easier to overwrite!"

"That's what this is," Clarina growled from her flank. "They want to delete complexity. Compress us into something palatable."

"Then we'll be indigestible," Verena replied.

The countdown continued. 7 minutes remaining.

The fake transmigrator at the center of the courtyard raised her hand. Her name floated above her like a blinking prompt: Aeris Soleil: Chosen System Saintess of Rewrite Salvation.

"Oh god," Penelope muttered. "Of course her name is Aeris."

Aeris activated her cheat system: a glowing wheel appeared behind her, rolling like a divine roulette. As it spun, powers began manifesting at random—Time Stop, Firestorm, Angel's Blessing. Her attacks weren't even narratively coherent. They were overpowered, unearned, and completely disconnected from her environment.

The world shuddered again. More NPCs spawned, all clapping, smiling, praising Aeris with scripted admiration.

"That's not magic," Isolde said. "That's fanfiction."

"No, that's what happens when someone skips to the reward without the arc," Verena spat, racing forward.

Saphira hissed midair. "Get to the center. The narrative glyph powering this whole takeover is under Aeris. Break that, and the spell ends!"

"I'll distract her," Clarina said immediately.

"You sure?" Verena asked.

Clarina nodded once. "I'm not afraid of being misunderstood. That's what makes me real."

She dashed forward, blade glowing. Aeris gasped dramatically, the wheel pausing. "A confrontation? How quaint!"

Clarina didn't even respond. She just attacked—blades crossing, light flaring. It was knight against spotlight, substance versus spectacle.

Vivienne reached for Verena's hand. "How do I help?"

Verena blinked. This was the girl who cried over being called dumb. Now she was here—trembling, yes—but present.

"Anchor me," Verena said. "Project a scene. Something real."

Vivienne closed her eyes. A ripple of Dreamtide magic surged outward.

And suddenly, they weren't in the distorted courtyard anymore. They were in the academy dorms—the real ones. The air smelled like parchment, sunlight filtered through real windows, and Verena felt her heartbeat slow. Her story. Her setting. Her truth.

The countdown paused.

"Got it," Saphira said. "You're overriding the override. Now finish it."

Verena rushed to the glyph beneath Aeris, where threads of code and spellwork pulsed like a heartbeat. With Clarina keeping Aeris busy, Verena summoned her mimicry. But this time, it wasn't borrowed spells—it was hers. A hybrid spell, forged from HR-like system authority and magic carved through her trials.

"Performance Review: Story Integrity Audit!" she declared.

The glyph recoiled, lines unraveling. System panels around Aeris began flickering. NPCs froze mid-cheer, like puppets without strings.

"No...!" Aeris shrieked. "You don't get to win! I'm the main character!"

"You skipped your character development," Verena growled, slamming her hand into the glyph.

Light erupted.

Narrative shattered.

And the countdown hit zero—just as Aeris, the fake tropes, and the Editor's rewrite magic all imploded into static.

Silence returned.

Then: laughter.

Penelope fell onto the ground, laughing. "We just out-meta'd a goddamn isekai takeover."

Clarina sheathed her sword. "Let's hope we don't have to do it again."

Verena, breathing hard, looked at her team.

And this time, she didn't feel like a villainess alone in the wrong story.

She felt... real.

The dust hadn't even settled when Saphira curled around Verena's neck again, murmuring, "We did it… but something's still off."

Verena looked up. The sky above the fractured courtyard was stitched together with constellations—jagged, uneven, not quite right. Like a dream struggling to stay lucid.

"This wasn't the final boss," Verena muttered. "It was the audition."

A beat passed.

Clarina frowned. "Then who's directing this mess?"

From the remnants of Aeris's system, a name flickered into view—one none of them recognized.

[ERROR: AUTHOR ID NOT FOUND]

Vivienne whimpered. "I don't like that. I really don't like that."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.