The Seat I Stole
The Rose Garden was far too peaceful. The red roses carried no scent of blood, and the angel statue at the center held no ominous air. Sunlight fell gently, and the fountain's water trickled quietly. It was difficult to believe this was the same place where I had collapsed, bleeding, only days ago. That made it all the more unpleasant.
This place was not real. It was the hidden seal gate in Mana Zone B-7—the illusion that showed a person their deepest desires and greatest fears. The gate had swallowed me whole. And now I stood in the Rose Garden from the original novel.
Before me were Rhea, Siella, and Aria. But they were not looking at me. Their gazes were fixed on a single person: the brown-haired youth, Edan Gray. The protagonist of the original story.
Rhea extended her hand toward him. Though her face remained that of the cold, arrogant princess, a faint trace of trust lingered in her eyes. Siella held her sword, yet there was no hostility in her stance. Instead, she smiled as if issuing a challenge—the gaze of a knight who acknowledged her opponent. Aria stood beside Edan, her snow-white hair gleaming in the sunlight, the lingering warmth of holy magic still glowing at her fingertips.
They looked natural. Too natural. As if this scene had always been the correct one.
“……”
I was at a loss for words. The sight was beautiful. Fragments of scenes I had read in the original novel were woven together before me: Edan saving Aria in the Rose Garden, Edan protecting Rhea during combat training, Edan crossing swords with Siella in the training grounds and earning her recognition. All of those moments had been compressed into a single vision unfolding right in front of me.
And I was not in it.
Or rather, I was—outside the frame. In a place where no one’s gaze reached.
“This is how it was meant to be.”
A voice spoke from behind me. I turned slowly. Another version of myself stood there—Kyle Diaren, the villain of the original story. He had the same face, but his eyes were different. They were unpleasantly crooked, the gaze of someone who mocked others first to protect himself. A broken noble clinging to the name of a fallen ducal house. He smiled.
“Doesn’t it look nice?”
I placed my hand on the hilt of my sword.
“You talk a lot for an illusion.”
“An illusion, huh.” He shrugged. “Must be convenient to call it that. But can you really say I’m completely fake?”
“What do you mean?”
“You already know.” He smiled with my face. “I am the original owner of the body you stole.”
My fingertips froze. I knew this was an illusion. This was simply B-7 showing me what I feared most. It was only natural that the original Kyle Diaren would appear like this. I had possessed this body. I was living as Kyle Diaren. So of course, buried deepest within me was this question: Who am I? And where did the original owner of this body go?
“You’re wavering,” the original Kyle said. “How amusing. You’re surviving in someone else’s body, and now your conscience is acting up?”
“Shut up.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m wrong.” He pointed toward the Rose Garden with a finger. “It’s the same over there. That was never yours to begin with. Their eyes were always meant to be on Edan Gray. The princess’s trust, the knight’s acknowledgment, the saint candidate’s touch.”
His lips twisted. “You stole all of it.”
I looked into the Rose Garden. Rhea was saying something to Edan. Siella raised her sword and pointed it at him. Aria watched the two of them with a small smile. Everything looked natural and comfortable. Without me, no one got hurt. Aria wasn’t crying. Rhea wasn’t shaken. Siella wasn’t wandering the training grounds at dawn, burdened by guilt. Noel didn’t have to dig into dangerous truths. Marian wouldn’t have stayed up all night weeping for her fallen master.
If I wasn’t there, everything would return to its proper place.
The thought seeped into my mind. It was terrifyingly sweet.
“That’s right,” the original Kyle whispered in my ear. “All you have to do is disappear.”
I glared at him. “You expect me to believe that?”
“You want to believe it.”
The words struck like a blade. I did want to believe it. That if I disappeared, everyone would be safe. That if I stopped twisting the original story any further, the Black Moon would stop moving. That Aria wouldn’t get hurt, Rhea wouldn’t be forced to drink poison, and Siella wouldn’t have to lower her sword. Thinking that way was easy. If I piled all the responsibility onto my own existence, the answer became far too simple.
If I disappeared, that would be enough.
“You’re tired too, aren’t you?” the original Kyle said. “Getting hurt over and over, being suspected, unable to run away. You said you just wanted to graduate quietly, didn’t you? But look at you now. The princess, the saint candidate, the knight’s daughter, the magic senior, the original protagonist, even the Black Moon—they’ve all gathered around you.”
He laughed. “Is this the survival you wanted?”
I couldn’t answer. He had struck true. I had wanted to survive. Truly. When I first opened my eyes in this world, my goal had been simple: avoid the Rose Garden incident, don’t get involved with the heroines, don’t ruin the protagonist’s events, graduate quietly.
But what about now? I had touched every major event in the original story. The villain who should have died had survived, and I had received the trust that was meant for the protagonist. The Black Moon called me an error, and Rowen said I should have exited in the first chapter. And now this illusion was telling me I was wrong.
“Give it back,” the original Kyle said. “That seat was never yours.”
At those words, the scenery of the Rose Garden shifted. Rhea looked at me—or rather, through me.
“Kyle Diaren is a dangerous variable,” Siella said. “Without him, the Black Moon wouldn’t have moved this quickly.”
Aria lowered her head. “Whenever Lord Kyle is near, someone always gets hurt.”
Even knowing it was an illusion, those words hurt. They hurt far too much. Because they were the words I feared most.
“See?” the original Kyle laughed. “Those are words you already know. They came from your own mind. That’s why they’re so hard to deny.”
“……”
“Go back. No—disappear. Then everything will return to its rightful place.”
At that moment, a door appeared before me. It was an old door, similar to the seal gate I had seen in B-7, but slightly smaller. From beyond it came familiar sounds: the noise of the city, cars passing by, the chime of a phone notification, distant conversations. The sounds of the world I had originally lived in.
I held my breath.
“If you want, you can go back,” the original Kyle said. “You’re not from this world, after all.”
Light leaked through the gap in the door. It was warm. A world without the smell of blood, without curses, without noble politics, without the Black Moon. The place I had originally belonged to. If I returned there, I would no longer be a villain. I wouldn’t be Kyle Diaren. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to carry the guilt of stealing someone’s fate or the pressure of ruining the original story.
I took a slow step toward the door. Then another. It was close enough to touch if I reached out.
At that moment, the inside of my wrist grew warm. The holy mark Aria had engraved. Even within the illusion, it glowed faintly.
— Lord Kyle, this time we’re really going to survive together.
I stopped.
Other voices rose in my mind.
— Don’t leave my sight. Rhea.
— Don’t move thinking you’re going to die. Learn how not to die. Siella.
— Heavy stories need to be handled lightly if you want to last long. Noel.
And Edan’s voice.
— No one is obligated to accept death quietly.
I lowered my hand in front of the door. The original Kyle’s expression hardened.
“Why did you stop?”
I turned around slowly.
“I was mistaken.”
“About what?”
“I thought this illusion was showing me what I feared most.” I drew my sword. “But really, this was what I wanted to run away from the most.”
The original Kyle narrowed his eyes.
“Is running away so bad?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I want to run away too. Every time. Even now.”
That was the truth. I was no hero. I wasn’t the protagonist. I wasn’t someone moved by some grand sense of justice willing to risk my life to save everyone. I was afraid. I didn’t want to get hurt, didn’t want to die, didn’t want to be suspected, didn’t want to carry anyone’s expectations.
But—
“Saying that everyone will be happy if I disappear is far too convenient.” I looked at the original Kyle. “That’s the conclusion the Black Moon wants. And it’s the conclusion you want, too.”
“I am you.”
“No.” I raised the tip of my sword. “You’re the excuse I’m afraid of.”
The original Kyle’s face twisted. The scenery of the Rose Garden began to shake. The figures of Rhea, Siella, and Aria looking at Edan grew blurry. The beautiful, peaceful original novel landscape cracked like shattered glass.
“You stole it!” the original Kyle shouted. “My body, my name, my place!”
“Yeah.” I didn’t deny it. “Maybe I did.”
Strength filled the hand gripping my sword.
“That’s exactly why I can’t just disappear so carelessly. As long as I’m living under this name, I have to take responsibility for the choices I made.”
“Responsibility?” He sneered. “As a villain?”
“Yeah.” I took a step forward. “Even a villain has to graduate.”
At that moment, the original Kyle lunged. His sword wasn’t fast, but its trajectory was familiar—the original form of the swordsmanship I now used. The habits left behind in this damaged body. I blocked it. Blade met blade.
“You’re fake!” he shouted.
“Maybe.” I gritted my teeth. “But the one alive right now is me.”
I twisted my sword. The original Kyle’s blade was pushed aside, leaving an opening at his chest. I didn’t cut him. Instead, I reached out and grabbed him by the collar.
“And if you’re really still here, watch closely.” I looked straight into his eyes. “See how far I can go with your name.”
At that moment, the original Kyle’s face distorted. Whether it was anger, mockery, or a faint trace of relief, I couldn’t tell. His body scattered like black smoke. The Rose Garden collapsed. The sky cracked, the angel statue split apart, and the red roses turned to black ash and blew away. Finally, even the sounds of the real world beyond the door faded into the distance.
I stood alone in the darkness.
No—not alone. I heard someone’s voice.
“Lord Kyle.”
It was Edan. I opened my eyes. He stood before me, but he too was different from usual. Behind him stretched another illusion: Rhea, Aria, and Siella lying collapsed. And in the center of it all stood Edan Gray, holding a blood-stained sword.
Edan looked at me, his face pale.
“This illusion,” he said quietly, “seems to show mine as well.”
I gripped my sword once more. The trial of Mana Zone B-7 was not over yet.