I Am The Game's Villain

Victor’s eyelids fluttered open, his vision greeted by an endless expanse of white—a ceiling that stretched impossibly far, or perhaps it was a sky so vast it defied comprehension. He blinked several times, his groggy mind struggling to process the sight above him.

With a groan, Victor pushed himself up.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered, his voice rough and disoriented.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, and what greeted him was nothing short of bizarre. Long, sinuous vines, bleached as white as snow, jutted out from every direction. They twisted and wove into a corridor-like path.

Victor gulped audibly, his heartbeat quickening. The sheer unnaturalness of the place sent a shiver down his spine. He stumbled awkwardly to his feet, his movements clumsy as he steadied himself.

"Eh?"

Suddenly, a low, rhythmic pulse began to echo in his ears, steady and loud, as if resonating with his own heartbeat. The sound wasn’t distant—it felt impossibly close, as though it was emanating from the very air around him. Despite the disorientation, he somehow knew exactly where it was coming from, an instinct guiding him forward.

He stepped into the vine-covered corridor. The pulse grew louder with every step. Time seemed to warp, each second stretching endlessly, and yet, after what felt like both an eternity and an instant, Victor emerged into a circular chamber.

The chamber was crafted entirely of the same white vines, their unique forms converging into a pulsating design that seemed alive. But what immediately drew his attention was at the very center.

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A glowing core, pure and radiant, throbbed with a steady rhythm, casting a soft luminescence across the room. Encased within the core was a woman.

"Ah…" Victor’s breath caught in his throat.

The vines entwined her, binding her arms and torso with a strange precision, as if they were both imprisoning and protecting her. Her golden hair cascaded like rivers of molten sunlight, shimmering as if spun from threads of pure gold. It fell over her shoulders in a way so perfect it seemed unreal.

Her beauty was otherworldly—divine. Her pale skin was etched with golden veins that wove beautiful patterns along her arms and face, glowing faintly as if alive with energy. The most striking detail, however, was the golden symbol of a tree adorning her forehead, glowing faintly against her resting expression.

Victor took an involuntary step forward, unable to tear his gaze away.

"Is she… a Goddess?" He whispered not daring to approach more.

"She is."

"...!" Victor froze. His body went rigid, and a jolt of fear shot through him as he spun around.

Standing there was a man who radiated the same divine presence as the woman within the core. He appeared to be in his late twenties, his long, snow-white hair flowing down his back. His eyes were pure white as well. Luminous veins traced patterns along his face and neck, mirroring those of the woman but differently.

He wore a white tunic, perfectly crafted, making him only more divine.

The man looked at Victor with a smile.

"W-Who are you?" Victor asked, instinctively stepping back.

Victor felt suffocated by the mere presence of that man. Only the unique nature of this place—a veritable sea of mana saturating the air—gave Victor the strength to remain standing.

"I have been known by many names," the man said, his glowing white eyes fixed on Victor. "But you… You may know me as Nihil."

Victor’s lips parted as the name sank in. At first, it didn’t fully register, but then his eyes widened in shock.

"N-Nihil? I–I mean… Lord Nihil?!"

Without hesitation, Victor dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

Nihil sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please, stand up. I have no need for such formalities."

Victor hesitated before slowly rising to his feet. "But… you’re a god. One of the Guardians of Eden, aren’t you?"

Nihil chuckled softly. "That is one way I am addressed, yes. A Guardian of Eden. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?"

Victor’s eyes searched Nihil’s face, still wary despite the deity’s calm demeanor. "Are you truly…?"

"You are cautious," Nihil said, nodding approvingly. "As you should be. But yes, I am Nihil. And I believe you may already have some inkling as to why I stand before you today."

Victor swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. His thoughts raced as he recalled a conversation he’d had not long ago. "The Guardian of the Tree," he began hesitantly, "told me… I would become the next Apostle of Nihil."

Nihil tilted his head slightly, studying Victor. "You sound unsure."

Truthfully, Victor was unsure. The idea felt too grand, too far removed from the life he had known. Of course, he’d heard of the Apostle of Nihil—it was an honor steeped in legends but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself being chosen.

"I… I never thought it would be me," Victor admitted awkwardly.

A faint smile played on Nihil’s lips. "Indeed. And do you know what it truly means to be an Apostle, Victor?"

Victor blinked, taken aback by the question. "Huh… I mean, I think so," he said, fumbling for words. "The Apostle is the one who protects the Holy Tree of Eden alongside the Prophetess, right?"

Nihil shook his head slowly. "Wrong. It seems much has been lost to time—distorted, forgotten, or altered." He sighed softly, his white eyes meeting Victor’s. "The main role of the Apostle of Nihil is to protect the Prophetess."

Victor’s eyes widened again. "To… protect the Prophetess? To protect Celeste?"

"Exactly," Nihil affirmed with a nod. "The Tree of Eden is important, yes, but it already has a protector. The Guardian of the Tree’s sole duty is to ensure its safety. The Prophetess, however, is vulnerable. And that is where the Apostle comes in."

Victor furrowed his brow. "So… the Apostle’s role isn’t about the Tree at all? It’s about protecting her?"

"Yes," Nihil nodded. "The Prophetess comes first. The Tree comes after. They are connected, but their roles are distinct."

"And the Guardian of the Tree," he muttered, "they’re the one who…"

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"Guards the Tree," Nihil finished for him with a faint smile. "It is as simple as that. The hierarchy is clear: the Guardian protects the Tree. The Apostle protects the Prophetess. And together, they ensure the balance in Sancta Vedelia."

Victor chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Right, but I mean… do I really need to protect Celeste? She’s pretty strong on her own, and Amael’s there with her too."

"Unfortunately, the Prophetess will always require protection, no matter how strong she may seem. Enemies lurk everywhere—within and beyond the borders of Sancta Vedelia. I believe you know exactly what I mean."

Victor’s expression faltered, his gaze dropping to the ground. Memories surged back to him—memories of that day when Amael had barely intervened in time. Without him, Durathiel would have succeeded in taking Celeste away.

"Celeste Indi Zestella will soon ascend as the next Prophetess," Nihil continued. "With that title comes the duty to remain in Sancta Vedelia. She must guard against the gravest threats to our world and serve as its herald, warning of dangers yet to come. But this also makes her vulnerable, a target for forces far greater than she can fend off alone." Nihil tilted his head slightly. "Tell me, Victor—will Amael remain by her side in Sancta Vedelia until the end?"

Victor hesitated, glancing away. "Well…"

He knew the answer. Amael had been clear with him: he planned to leave Sancta Vedelia in two months, at the end of the academy year. Of course, he’d visit occasionally—his family was there, after all, and Celeste and Elizabeth were as well. But Amael wouldn’t be there around the clock to shield Celeste.

Victor clenched his fists at his sides. "Celeste is my best friend… but I’m in love with someone else," he said quietly.

Nihil chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Don’t worry, Victor. I am neither Lumen nor Nox. I will not force a relationship between the Apostle and the Prophetess." He paused, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Though it would be ideal—romantic bonds foster closeness and ensure the Apostle and Prophetess remain together—but no, it is not a requirement. What matters is your ability to protect her when she needs you most."

Victor exhaled in relief, a small smile breaking across his face. "Then I can do it. She’s my closest friend—I’d never let anything happen to her. I will help her."

"Good," Nihil said, his tone brightening slightly. "Then let us begin."

Victor straightened, nodding. "How long will this take?"

"That will depend entirely on you," Nihil replied.

Victor shifted uneasily, worry flickering in his eyes. "I need to hurry. I need to get back and help my friends. Otherwise, they’ll reach the Tree…"

Nihil inclined his head. "Then we will not delay."

With that, Nihil stepped closer, extending a hand toward Victor. The white vines surrounding the chamber began to move, slithering and unfurling like living things. They crept toward Victor, wrapping around his limbs and torso, tightening their hold as they encased him in a cocoon of pulsating white light.

Victor stiffened as the vines constricted around him. "A–Are we going to win the war?" He asked, his voice trembling as his consciousness began to fade.

"That depends," Nihil replied, "on what you believe winning truly means."

Victor’s eyelids grew heavy, his vision swimming in white as the vines fully enveloped him.

As the cocoon of white vines settled, Nihil turned his attention toward the woman encased within the core and he approached her. He stopped just inches away.

"Eight hundred years…" Nihil muttered. "Eight hundred years since you cursed us with every vile word in your arsenal and swore to rain tragedies upon this world."

He paused, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "And, indeed, tragedy has befallen us. Though, I suspect it isn’t entirely your doing."

Obviously no answers came.

"Freyja… You understand the true threats this world faces, don’t you? You are one of Ymir’s Princesses as much as you hate that and you should know that fighting between each other isn’t wise."

Then he leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Hate us all you wish. Curse me and the others for eternity if it gives you peace. But don’t drag the innocent into the depths of your vengeance. They don’t deserve to pay the price for what we’ve done."