Aurora’s fingers trembled.
"And it was not only them. There were many others, slowly pushed into that role."
The voice softened, almost gently.
"I am telling you this because you have finally reached a point where you understand others."
Aurora’s breath hitched. Her mind flashed back to the warmth of a body she had held just yesterday, to shaky sobs and desperate gratitude. ’Yesterday...’ Her heart squeezed painfully.
"Dorothy," she whispered, the na slipping out before she could stop it.
Realization struck her like lightning. Her voice trembled as she forced out the question.
"What... what was Dorothy’s fate?"
The silence lingered longer this ti, heavy and ominous. Then, without warning, the space before Aurora shimred, and a vision unfolded.
She saw a world where she had never helped Dorothy.
Dorothy wandered from place to place, desperation etched into her face, begging for connections, for opportunities, for a way out.
In the end, she beca the mistress of a wealthy man.
Just when Dorothy believed her life could sink no lower, tragedy struck. Her mother died.
Even after sacrificing her dignity, even after becoming an enemy to another woman and tearing apart a seemingly happy marriage, her mother still died.
The grief hollowed Dorothy out. She tried to end the relationship, tried to walk away from the role she despised.
Her sugar daddy went mad.
He imprisoned her, locking her away like property. Dorothy scread, struggled, and bled. In the end, she killed him to escape.
But it did not end there.
His wife accused Dorothy, twisting the truth, painting her as pure evil. Dorothy was dragged through courts and whispers, condemned by society.
Yes, she had beco a mistress. Yes, she had made mistakes. But her circumstances had driven her there, cornered her until she saw no other path.
She tried to repent. She paid for it with everything.
In the wife’s eyes, Dorothy alone was guilty. Her husband was innocent, rely soone who had "montarily wavered."
The bla was absolute, cruel, and one-sided. The wife, a powerful leader herself, ensured that the world despised Dorothy, erasing her humanity entirely.
The vision faded.
Aurora lowered her head, her chest aching, her throat burning. ’So this is what you ant...’
The voice returned, quieter but relentless.
"There are many more like her. Near you. Far from you. People were given the script of a villain when all they ever wanted was justice. When all they did was live."
Aurora swallowed hard.
"Just like soone very close to you," the voice murmured.
A faint confusion appeared in Aurora’s eyes.
"What does that an?" the boys asked, their words distant, blurred.
Before she could answer them, the voice spoke one last ti.
"There is another person," it said. "Soone faintly connected to you. A woman who is a fake daughter."
Aurora’s eyes snapped up.
"In the future," the voice continued, "she will be pampered by the real family... and by the fiancé who was originally betrothed to the real daughter."
"At first, it might appear that the fake daughter was deeply loved, cherished by everyone around her. But in truth, that love was nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion. The real family and the fiancé were rely using her as a shield. Every assassination attempt, every lurking danger, was deliberately redirected toward the fake daughter while the real daughter remained safely hidden behind her."
Aurora listened the story patiently.
"They used her relentlessly. They used her until her body finally gave out."
"Did she discover the truth then?" Aurora asked in confusion.
"At the mont of her death, when her breath was shallow and her vision blurred, the truth was revealed to her. Hatred flooded her heart, bitter and scorching, directed at every single one of them. Yet by then, it was already too late. She had long been labeled a villain simply because she often clashed with the real daughter."
In reality, it was the fake daughter who had been bullied, humiliated, and forced to endure endless suffering, all while standing in front as a human shield.
The real daughter constantly opposed her, desperate to reclaim her rightful position.
However, once the real daughter beca aware of the danger, she retreated without hesitation, allowing the fake daughter to continue taking the fall.
It revealed just how cruel the world could be.
Or perhaps... it revealed that this cruelty was not entirely natural.
’Is this really just unfairness?’ Aurora wondered. ’Or is there sothing else pulling the strings?’
So people might have been paying for past sins, but many others had been dragged into tragedy for no reason at all. They had been targeted by sothing known as the script maintainer.
Aurora frowned deeply, her brows knitting together as confusion clouded her thoughts.
"You are correct, this isn’t sothing that is happening on its own. There is soone who is desperately trying to make this world into a novel world. They call themselves Script maintainer." The voice explained gently.
"Script... maintainer?" Aurora repeated the words in confusion.
The system responded, its voice calm but heavy with implication.
"The script maintainer is an extrely advanced form of technology. Sothing that should not exist in your tiline, yet it does. It enforces the script, compelling people to follow predetermined roles."
A chill crawled up Aurora’s spine.
"Sotis," the voice continued, "the people around you may not truly feel certain emotions, yet they are forced to act them out. Just like your sister-in-law, Jules. She is not soone who naturally fears others."
Aurora’s fingers curled into the bedsheet.
"But under the influence of the script maintainer, she could be made to fear Nick. She could even bend to his will against her own nature."
Aurora’s chest tightened.
"If this continues," the voice warned, "that force will gradually take control of everyone around you. Their endings will converge. Different paths, sa destruction."
Aurora inhaled sharply, the air feeling heavy in her lungs. She had already pieced it together.
"So," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside, "what do I need to do?"
The voice fell silent for a mont, the atmosphere growing tense. Then their voices overlapped, firm and resolute.
"You must change lives. As many as you can."
Aurora listened, her heart pounding.
"The more lives you change, the greater the impact you create. The greater the impact, the stronger the butterfly effect."
A faint pause followed before one of them spoke again.
"Have you heard how a single action can alter the entire future? That is what you must do."
Aurora absorbed their words in silence. She understood most of it now.
The voices returned, softer this ti.
"We know you are already drowning in work. You barely have ti to breathe. But as long as you continue forward, you will reach a future where you are loved... and where the people you cherish are no longer in danger."
Aurora let out a slow sigh.
"I understand."
After all, she was the one who could see the future. If that was her advantage, then she would use it to its fullest. She would save the people around her, no matter the cost.
"You will be shown stories," the boys continued. "You must change their outcos. Change enough of them, and you can reclaim the lives of those you love."
Aurora nodded without hesitation. Then their tone hardened.
"Take care of yourself, Aurora. The force you are opposing is not sothing you can handle lightly."
"I understand," Aurora replied again, her voice firm.
The voice softened one last ti.
"We will fade away for now. But you must visit the western alleyway."
Aurora frowned. "The western alleyway?"
Confusion flickered across her face, yet she nodded nonetheless. The space around her shimred, the voices dissolving into nothingness.
The scene collapsed.
Aurora gasped softly as her eyes flew open, eting the familiar ceiling above her. Relief washed over her as she realized she was back in her room.
’It was a dream...’
Yet her body betrayed her thoughts. Heat radiated from her skin, her head throbbing painfully.
’I still have a fever...’
Her heart began to race, fear creeping in as the dream felt far too vivid to dismiss. Just as panic threatened to take hold, the door suddenly pushed open.
Olivia stepped inside.
Her gaze imdiately fell on Aurora, who was still lying weakly on the bed.
She looked at Aurora with a calm expression at first, but the mont her gaze t Aurora’s eyes, she froze.
The fear there was too raw, too naked to ignore. Olivia paused beside the bed and her voice softened instinctively.
"What happened?" she murmured. "Why do you look so scared? Did you have a nightmare?"
Aurora’s hand shot out imdiately, gripping Olivia’s wrist before she could pull away.
Olivia had already moved to her bedside, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Aurora nodded quickly.
"It was a nightmare," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Just a nightmare."
Before Olivia could react, Aurora pulled her closer and buried her face against Olivia’s cheek.
User Comments
0 comments from readers