"Fate does not belong to us."
That's what they said. But if that's true... then why am I still alive?
We live in a world that was already set into motion before we were even born, our lives dictated by choices we never made, split between the most blessed and the most cursed.
Isn't death supposed to be the final punctuation? To separate the soul from the body, to erase our thread from the canvas of this world?
Every step, they said, has already been written. Every breath, accounted for. And in the end, we all return to Hell, or to Heaven.
That's what we were all told... wasn't it? That's what I believed, until I opened my eyes and found myself alive in another world.
Or…
Maybe this is just a dream. Maybe it's a leftover echo of consciousness before death. Or... something far stranger than both.
I opened my eyes slowly. Violet light stung my eyelids. I tried to breathe... it worked. But the sound was wrong. Like... an old radio system. A microphone inside my chest.
"Okay..." I whispered. "If this is Heaven, the interior design is a bit... underwhelming."
I lay still for a few seconds. My brain... loading. Why is this place so quiet? Where are the angels? The cloud sofas? Where's... signal?
I stood up. Slowly. Knees still intact. Not frozen. Not rotting. Okay, so maybe not a corpse.
"Hello?" I called out to anyone. No sound. No creatures. Only the echo of my own voice, as if I'd just made a very big mistake.
I pinched my cheek. No sensation. Second attempt. Okay, that hurts. So… not a dream. Or a high-budget one.
I looked at my hand. Still five fingers. Good. Minimum human confirmed.
This place... It feels like a quarantined library. Like Hogwarts infected by a virus. The ceiling stretched high, but shrouded in darkness. Stone walls veined, glowing, and somehow... clean? The pillars glowed faintly like crystal roots sprouting from their cracks. The floor wasn't just solid it was translucent, with layers of light-thread spirals weaving like living nerves beneath it. But no sound. No machines. No birds, no insects, no fans, no air conditioning, no Shopee ads.
I held my head. "I'm not in a game. I don't remember a portal. No ritual. No Truck-kun. I was... literally writing a story just now. Half-finished script..."
I stared at the floor. "Did I fall into my own story?"
PLEASE DO NOT PANIC SYSTEM STILL SEARCHING FOR FATE
"Fate? Bro, I'm still looking for my own ID card. Chill."
Suddenly:
System Attempting to Reconnect... Error: Thread Not Registered Access Denied
Me: "...uh?"
I glanced around. No screen. No holograms. But the words floated midair like a hologram, but made of light-thread. Glitching text. Extremely user-unfriendly.
Welcome: Data Corrupted Please do not Panic Error: Too Late
I chuckled. "Too late... yep, you got that right."
I rubbed my face. I had no idea who I was now. No idea where I was. And this mysterious system tells me not to panic?
When I want to panic, I don't. But when something tells me to stay calm — that's usually when I start losing it.
I started walking. One step... two steps.
The ground beneath my feet was hard, white stone streaked with strange blue veins. Like a fusion of ancient temple + genetic laboratory. Very academic. Very unfriendly to regular humans.
Then a voice appeared in my head. Soft. Cold.
"You're not supposed to be here."
I froze. My breath caught. "Okay," I spoke to the air, "I kinda feel the same."
But the voice didn't return. No echo. Just... that feeling. Like I was being watched.
Who was it? The system? Myself? Or something else entirely? I had no clue. But the way it whispered silent, firm, sudden sent a chill through me.
I kept moving forward. A stone corridor appeared faint, almost like it only existed when I looked at it. No signs. No normal light. But something… pulled me forward.
Each step echoed through the hollow space… klok, klok, klok. But it wasn't just my footsteps. The floor itself… throbbed. Slowly. Like the heartbeat of something not quite alive, but not dead either.
I looked down. This floor wasn't just stone. It was made of tightly woven glass-threads, firm and solid. And beneath the glowing surface, symbols rotated… alive.
Access Node Thread Code: ???
Permission Level: Undefined Warning: Interference Detected
I shook my head. What is this world, really? Technology? Magic? Or both having a fight and trying to eject me?
I sat for a moment on a stone step. Not hot. Not cold. Default temperature.
"I want to believe this is an illusion. But if it is, then whose illusion is this?"
I took a breath. Then, silently, I repeated my own name in my mind. My voice, quiet inside: "I... who am I?"
And that was the scariest part. Not because I didn't know where I was. But because I wasn't sure if I ever truly knew who I was to begin with.
Memory Core: Incomplete
User ID: Null
Thread Origin: Missing
I clutched my chest. No wound. No pain. Just emptiness. Deep and strange.
I entered an open space half a collapsed hall. Towering pillars rose high, cracked halfway. Moss clung to walls, but it wasn't normal moss. It glowed. And at the center of the floor: a symbol… twisted threads forming a circle. Inside the circle: a single, weathered piece of paper.
I stepped closer. The paper... seemed to be waiting for me.
It read:
THE UNWRITTEN.
THE UNRECORDED.
IF YOU ARE STILL BREATHING, THEN YOU ARE NOT YET ERASED.
I touched the paper. It was warm. And then:
System Alert
Unwritten Class Detected
Status: Glitch
Warning: Existence Not Recognized
Threadpath: Null
I looked at my hand. A faint light pulsed across my skin like fractures in reality adjusting to let me exist. It felt like I was being... borrowed by existence.
And strangely that made me angry.
"If I'm not supposed to exist," I whispered, "if I'm nobody…"
I clenched the paper in my fist.
"...then I'll become whoever I want."
My steps grew firmer.
New Thread Beginning
Name: Unwritten
Class: ???
Destination: Unknown
I didn't know where this road would end. I didn't know who was waiting at the end of it. I didn't even know if this world truly existed, or if I was just the leftover fragment of something never approved to live.
A wind one that shouldn't exist blew from the right. The air grew heavy, like the world's breathing system was rebooting itself.
The wall beside me cracked… on its own. Like the place was learning to accept me. Or trying to eject me out.
Far ahead, I saw a great door. Rusting metal. A twisted thread symbol half-burned. A sign hung loosely above it, letters barely visible:
THREAD ACADEMY
I exhaled. And for the first time, I felt… I was not welcome here.
Warning: Thread Anomaly Approaching
Security Response: Disabled
Reason: Class Unwritten – No Protocol
I smirked slightly. Not because it was funny. But because I realized… I was supposed to be dead. And now, the whole world doesn't know what to do with me.
Fate is not ours, they say. Those who believe in it they break when it's taken away. But me?
I have nothing left to lose. No timeline to return to. No system willing to even say my name.
And now, I understand… maybe I am the "Thread Anomaly." Maybe not a weapon. Not a creature. But a disruption that can't be put back together.
And this academy this Thread Academy it might be a school. Or it might be a place where they lock away those who don't belong in the system.
Whatever it is… I've already stepped into it.
So if no one else dares to write my story
Then I'll write my own fate.
Line by line.
Thread by thread.
Until this world can no longer erase me.