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ONESHOT | 30
"Welcome to Blackwell Publishing, Miss Y/n. We're honored to offer you this opportunity." The executive's voice was smooth, practiced. Sitting across from him in a sleek office, you struggled to contain your excitement. This was it—the moment you had been waiting for. Years of writing, rejection, and perseverance had led to this. Your fantasy novel was finally going to be published by one of the biggest names in the industry. "Before we finalize the contract, there's one condition," the executive continued, sliding a sleek tablet across the glass desk. "Our company is experimenting with a new program—an immersive experience where authors can step into their own stories before publication. It allows for deeper revisions and ensures narrative integrity. It's completely safe, of course." You blinked, taken aback. "Step into my story?" "Yes. Think of it as lucid dreaming, but within the world you created. Our technology will simulate your novel, and you'll experience it as if you were there. You won't be in control, but you'll retain your memories as the author. You'll wake up once the system determines you've 'lived' enough of the story to refine it."
It sounded surreal, but also incredible. Who wouldn't want to explore their own world firsthand? You hesitated only a moment before nodding. "That sounds amazing." The executive smiled. "Excellent. Just upload your manuscript here, and we'll take care of the rest." You reached into your bag, pulling out the flash drive where your novel was stored. Plugging it into the tablet, you selected the file and hit "Submit." A progress bar filled the screen. Uploading: 5%... 20%... 80%... "It'll only take a few minutes," the executive assured. You exhaled, relaxing in your seat. But something nagged at you—a strange feeling, like you were forgetting something important. As the bar hit 100%, your heart stopped. That wasn't your fantasy novel. It was your dark romance. The one with the yandere you had written as an experiment, never meant to be shared with the world. Panic flooded your veins. Your mouth opened, ready to stop them, but before you could speak, the executive tapped something on his screen. "Perfect. The system is processing your world now. Let's begin." The last thing you heard was the hum of machinery as the world faded into black.
—
"No! No, no, no—this can't be happening!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. Your voice echoed through the grand chamber, bouncing off the high ceilings and ornate walls. Panic surged through you as you spun in place, taking in your surroundings. This was the protagonist's room. No doubt about it. Everything—the towering bookshelves, the silk-draped windows, the extravagant vanity—was just as you had painstakingly described in your manuscript. "Why am I so careless?!" you groaned, pressing your hands against your temples. "Out of all the files I could've submitted, I had to pick the one with the obsessive yandere?!" You exhaled sharply, trying to calm yourself, but the moment you glanced down, you nearly screamed again. A gown. Not just any gown—a lavish, shimmering, floor-length gown, fitted perfectly to your body. Layers of soft fabric cascaded around you, and intricate golden embroidery trailed along the hem and bodice. The very same dress you had written for the protagonist's grand entrance.
