I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Each time, the world came into focus just a little more—and I wished it hadn't.
My cheek was pressed against the surface of a desk. Hard. Cold. Real.
Above me, fluorescent lights hummed like insects gnawing at my sanity. My fingers twitched.
My thoughts didn't follow.
Where the hell...?
---
[[[ Status Window ]]]
Title: The Quiet Bloom
Name: Emelia Virellis
Age: 17
Race: Human
Rank: E
Supporting Constellation: None
Stigma: None
Personal Attribute: Memory Trace
---
Statistics:
Strength: 14 | Stamina: 12 | Speed: 9
Perception: 15 | Health: 8 | Magic Power: 13
Perseverance: 11 | Luck: 16 | Charm: 40
Remarks: The low-key daughter of the 3rd strongest guild leader in the world. She hides her lineage and strength for reasons known only to her. ]]]
---
What. The actual. Hell?
I stared at the translucent window floating in front of me. The blinking cursor. The perfect alignment. The goddamn stat sheet.
Emelia?
The girl from Class D?
No.
No, no, no—NO.
My head throbbed. Reality glitched.
"No Happy Ending in the 999th Regression."
The title pierced me like a nail through the skull. My breath caught in my throat.
I knew that name.
Because I knew it too well—
I'd read it more times than I could count.
This wasn't fiction.
Or maybe… fiction was all that was left of me.
The classroom snapped into focus.
Desks. Chairs. Posters.
And that godforsaken high-tech projector screen, still flickering, with a half-dead equation scrawled across it like some forgotten curse.
Everything felt like a lie printed on reality's paper-thin skin.
Was this a dream?
A punishment?
A joke?
I rubbed my eyes. They were dry.
And then—
"Lucifer, seriously! What the hell's wrong with you? You've been spacing out for like five minutes!"
I turned.
She stood there. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed.
Emelia.
The Quiet Bloom.
Stat Sheet Girl.
Not real. Couldn't be real.
But she was here. Talking to me like we were classmates ??
As if this wasn't a hallucination stitched together by a mad god's sense of humor.
The classroom whispered around us. Stares. Murmurs. Discomfort.
I clenched my jaw.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
And then the slap of reality hit me full-force.
This was real.
My pulse thundered in my ears. My fingers dug into the grain of the desk.
I could feel.
I wasn't dreaming.
"Lucifer?" Her voice again—cutting through the static, softening just enough to sting. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I had.
Me.
The version of me that died in that other world.
The one that shouldn't have come back.
"I... uh..." I choked on my breath. My throat was too tight. Like it remembered being cut.
"I think I'm fine."
A lie.
Barefaced and bleeding.
But it was all I had.
Emelia gave me that look—half concern, half irritation—and walked back to her desk.
As if this was normal.
As if I wasn't unraveling.
And then—
It appeared again.
---
[[[ Status Window ]]]
Title: ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ — The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist
Name: Lucifer ???
Age: 18
Race: Human
Rank: E
Supporting Constellation: None
Stigma: None
Personal Attribute: ■■■■■'s ■■■■■ (?)
---
Statistics:
Strength: 12 | Stamina: 15 | Speed: 10
Perception: 14 | Health: 13 | Magic Power: 8
Perseverance: 13 | Luck: 5 | Charm: 3
Remarks: The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist. Villain destined to die soon. ]]]
---
"..."
A chill slid down my spine.
What kind of sick joke was this?
Hahaha…
I laughed.
A sharp, breathless sound. Hollow. Detached.
"What the hell is going on..."
"Lucifer!" Emelia hissed, her face flushed with embarrassment and rage. "Keep it down, you idiot. People are watching!"
People.
Yeah.
Let them watch.
Because if this is my new reality—
Then I'm screwed.
---
It's been a week since I got transmigrated into my favorite novel.
And surprisingly?
I didn't die.
Yet.
Somehow, I survived the royal military academy's graduation exam—the very one that pushed cadets to the brink of death just to enter the Academy of Fate.
In the novel, this place was a nightmare in disguise. The birthplace of legends.
And now? It's my new home.
Guess what?
It still sucks.
But I adapted.
Because that's what extras do—they survive in the margins. They blend in.
I copied the other cadets. Moved like them. Talked like them. Ate like them. I kept my head down. Didn't stand out.
But there's a problem.
I'm not normal.
Not anymore.
There's a glitch in the system.
Because I can see everyone's status window.
Students. Professors. Knights. Even the royal dog trainer.
And that's not supposed to be possible.
When I checked mine again, it was still the same:
> Personal Attribute: ■■■■■'s ■■■■■ (?)
No name.
No title.
Just static.
Like I'm a character the world doesn't know how to process.
A ghost in its code.
At first, I panicked.
Wouldn't you?
But then I realized—
If the world doesn't know what I am…
Maybe I can become anything.
I remember the story clearly.
It was about Cale Ashblood—the hero who sacrificed everything.
His body.
His soul.
His sanity.
Across 998 lifetimes, he turned back time to save a dying world.
Until nothing was left of him.
All he wanted was rest.
Peace.
To die.
But peace never came.
Because this world?
It was cursed from the start.
Worse still?
The original author died.
And the replacement butchered everything.
The bittersweet pain of sacrifice became meaningless.
Characters were killed off for shock value.
The world didn't heal—it rotted.
The ending wasn't dark.
It was empty.
And now… I'm inside that world.
The broken version.
The corrupted one.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
I'm just an extra.
A background character with no plot armor.
No destiny.
No name.
But I know the story.
I know what's coming.
So should I just start stealing?
Try to grab Cale's chances before he does?
I mean, I do know where the hidden pieces are.
All of them.
Every secret item.
Every lore-drop.
Every trap.
But Cale Ashblood isn't just any protagonist.
He's a 999-time regressor.
Emotionless.
Hollow.
Dead inside.
If I try to steal a single thing meant for him…
He'll kill me.
No hesitation.
No second glance.
But there's one item—one piece—that was never officially revealed in the novel.
An Easter egg.
A crossover relic from another story the original author wrote.
Mentioned once, during a fan meeting.
Barely anyone knew it existed.
And it might be my only chance.
Because right now?
Cale isn't planning to save the world.
Not in this round.
Not until his friends start dying in the upcoming arc.
Not until everything turns to shit.
Yeah.
You heard that right.
The one person the entire goddamn universe revolves around?
He's currently on vacation mode while the world speedruns its own destruction.
---
So what now?
I'm an extra.
A filler with a death flag the size of a continent.
The protagonist doesn't care.
The villains are moving.
And the world?
The world is cracking at the seams.
Hah.
Guess it's time I stop being an extra.
Time to find that hidden piece.
And rewrite the damn script—
Before it writes me out completely.
---