Matt is an ordinary young college student with an addiction to the pages of The Golden Weaver’s First Apprentice. This novel wasn’t just a hobby for him, it was his lifeline, the one thing that kept him feel alive when the rest of the world felt unbearably dim. Page after page, chapter after chapter, he followed the journey of the Finster, a character he cared for more fiercely than anyone else, even his family or himself.

When the long-awaited final chapter was released, Matt devoured it with trembling anticipation. The writing was flawless, every thread tied together, every arc resolved with masterful precision. It made sense. And yet, when he reached the final chapter, his world collapsed.

It was a tragedy.
A selfless sacrifice.
One life given to save countless others.
A "Bitter-Sweet" ending, the community called it. 

Matt was devastated. He raged at a world—both fictional and real—that could demand such a price from a character he loved so deeply. “I hate bad endings,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

As though responding to his grief, his phone flickered. A soft light bloomed across the screen, forming words he had never seen before, yet somehow he understood it.

How do you think it should have ended?

Stunned, confused, barely conscious of his own voice, Matt answered from the depths of his heart:

“I would be there for him. I’d support him, be his anchor—his start and his release. His companion. His ally. I owe him at least that much.”

The light paused for a long, breathless moment.
Then it replied:

Don’t fail this time.

And Matt’s world began to change.

The moment the text finished narrating inside my head, a cold bolt of adrenaline shot down my spine. 


I immediately clutched Nagi's fragile hand tighter, leaning over the bed rails.


What the hell do you mean the culprit is one of my classmates? 


Can't you just tell me their name instead of dropping riddles?!


Another sharp spark of green static thrum channeled up our arms as the glowing text warped into a new, unstable display.


[Message from 'Verde': This will be my final transmission for a while. 'Weiss' has successfully locked down my authority output, placing a hard existential taboo on my color itself to prohibit me from directly tampering with the present world line.]


Chapter 100 - Liar's masks