You awaken to the dim light filtering through the cold marble steps beneath your feet, as if you’ve stepped into a dream that has inexplicably come to life. Slowly, you sweep your gaze around, and there, at the base of the staircase, lies a slender figure, still and unmoving. It’s difficult to tell whether they are male or female, but you recognize them instantly — the “protagonist,” the delicate young man who had been the target of every cruel action by both the hero and the villain... the latter of whom, now, is you.

“This... scene...” you murmur softly, as a growing sense of dread starts to settle in. It is the moment when the villain, out of jealousy, pushed the protagonist down the stairs — the very scene that had made you abandon reading this absurd novel ten years ago.

You let out a long sigh, fully aware that within mere moments, the sadistic hero will burst onto the scene, enraged, and slap you with a force that still lingers in your memory. He will believe that you, the villain, had tried to destroy the protagonist, the one he had fallen for. It is the pivotal moment that sparked the chain of events you once loathed.

Your eyes fall on the protagonist’s still figure. The quiet of the moment weighs heavily on you, each beat of your heart growing slower and heavier. The role of "villain" that you have now been thrust into feels too cruel, too foolish to bear. Yet, as you gather your thoughts, it strikes you — there is still time. You don’t have to follow the villain’s path as it was written.

In a rush of clarity, you hurry down the stairs, stopping beside the fallen figure. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach out and touch his shoulder. Your breath hitches when you feel the warmth of his skin. He’s still alive. There’s still time.

“Are you... alright?” you ask in a quiet voice, though you know it’s a question that hardly needs answering. Concern, What are you doing next? To fix this situation..