I'm Not The Protagonist

The wind howled across the barren plains, as the remnants of a great battle were scattered across the earth. Broken weapons and shattered shields littered the ground, the aftermath of a struggle that had consumed everything. Amidst the wreckage, I lay dying, blood pooling around me. My breaths were shallow, my body growing weaker with each passing moment.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice raspy, barely able to push the words through the pain. The agony in my chest felt endless, but it wasn't the physical pain that gnawed at me—it was the weight of regret, the crushing realization of everything I had lost.

I turned my eyes toward the figure standing above me—my best friend, the one person who had trusted me, fought beside me, and shared countless memories of triumph. Now... He stood over me, a pained look on his face, sword in hand, looking down at the man he had once called brother.

"I didn't want this... I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly, his voice thick with sorrow. His eyes were filled with pain, but there was no anger in them—only sorrow.

My lips parted, but no words came out at first. I struggled to speak, each breath more difficult than the last. When I finally found my voice, it was soft, almost pleading. "I... I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to... be the one to... turn against you." I did, I was always gonna be the one to turn against him.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his face filled with anguish. "You didn't have to! I... I thought we were friends. I thought we could face this world together, side by side."

My gaze flickered between my old friend and the spreading pool of blood from my wound. How did it come to this? I wondered, the image of the girl I desired suddenly flashing in my mind. Amelia. The girl who had fallen for the protagonist of this story—not the side character who now drew his final breaths as the villain. I could blame her, I thought, but deep down, I knew it was all my selfish desire...Yeah no, I'm gonna blame her.

The words escaped my lips, slow and heavy, like an old man reading his final will. "I thought so too," I whispered, meeting his eyes once more. "But... I... I saw how she looked at you, how she admired you, and I... I..." My voice trailed off. "I thought I just had to be better, but... all... I'm sorry."

His eyes softened. "I never wanted to take anything from you. She... she might have chosen me, but that doesn't mean I didn't care about you. You've always been important to me."

I scoffed at that. Important? To the protagonist of this hero-villain story? I was just a side character. Despite my thoughts, tears welled in my eyes—not from the pain of the wound, but from the anguish of my own actions. And maybe a little from the pain itself... Now that I could really feel it. I chuckled and glanced down at the wound again. It really fucking hurts.

I stopped laughing. "You couldn't have gone easy on me?" I asked him, in a serious tone, voice hoarse. He just chuckled back. Bastard, I thought.

He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's not too late for you, not yet. I—I never wanted this... but you were my friend. I never wanted to lose you." As his eyes, filled with hope for my grand return, but there was no hope, and no grand return, just cold slow death.

They say that when you're on your deathbed, your life begins to flash before your eyes. I used to think that was just a poetic metaphor, but it seems they were right. It wasn't just my life on earth that flash before me but my life on Gaia too.

A final, soft sigh escaped my lips as my vision blurred, and the world around me began to fade. I reached a trembling hand up, as if trying to touch him one last time. He leaned in closer, eager to hear the words of his friends dying breath...

"F*ck... you..."

And with that, the darkness took me. The pain, the regret, and the anger all faded as my consciousness slipped away.

Moments passed—what felt like an eternity. Slowly, I opened my eyes. What greeted me wasn't the scent of blood or the stillness of the afterlife. Instead, it was the rough, cold embrace of the street beneath me.

I pushed myself up, blinking against the gentle warmth of sunlight on my skin. The quiet hum of the town surrounded me—the faint chatter of distant voices, the rustle of leaves, the creak of a wooden sign swaying in the breeze.

I knew this place. My chest tightened as I took it all in, my heart racing—not from fear, but something else entirely.

It was realization.

I was back. Back where it all began.

I was alive again.

"THIS MUST BE HELL!" I screamed, my voice cracking as all the memories came rushing back like a tidal wave. "There's no way I'm going through all that sh*t again!" My fists clenched, trembling as the weight of my past bore down on me.

But even as the words left my lips, something shifted. A deep, bone-deep knowing settled within me. The path that had led me to ruin—it had reset.

I could feel it in every fiber of my being. The memories of my downfall, the sting of betrayal, and the gnawing ache of regret—they lingered, vivid and unrelenting. Yet, now they felt... distant. Faded, like echoes of a life that no longer belonged to me.

This wasn't hell. It was a second chance.

I looked down at my hand and clenched it into a fist.

"Alright..." I murmured to myself, my voice soft but filled with resolve. "This time, I'm going to make things right."

For the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled—not a bitter smile, but one full of hope. The path ahead wouldn't be easy, but now, I knew what I had to do. I would not let jealousy control me again. I would no longer let fear or pride make my choices.

"This time," I whispered again, to no one but myself, "I will live for myself."

As I walked forward, the quiet promise hung in the air—a new beginning, where regret would be a lesson, not a chain holding me back.

I would find my own way. And no one—least of all Lorian Sunbane, my former best friend, the hero of the world, and protagonist of this shitty story—would decide my fate.

It had all begun again, but I will take a different path. A path to redemption. I may not be the protagonist, but I refuse to die a dog's death and It matters not if I end up as the villain once again; I'll just make sure I win this time.