When I got a closer look at Cressida, there was a gaping void, I could read nothing about her future or even her present.
My premonition, which usually projected the entire story, stopped entirely the moment the original character was supposed to be erased.
The girl shouldn't even be standing here.
The Cressida I knew was a dumb bitch who acted haughty but lacked any genuine intellectual capacity, a pathetic rat perpetually chasing Agrona.
If Agrona had truly chosen this version as her new lover, her standards had plummeted, but perhaps even the villainess had her reasons.
The girl's current clothing was modest and well-maintained, a stark contrast to the real Cressida's desperate, cheap imitation of noble fashion.
Worse, this girl seemed too nice; the real one would be cursing my existence by now.
I grabbed her and slammed her against the wall.
It was a shame I wasn't taller, but the force was adequate.
"People might get the wrong idea," she said, teasingly. The Cressida I knew would have pushed me away and called me disgusting.
"Why are you..." I began, reeling from the differences.
"Alive?" she finished for me.
Weird.
They were supposed to be clueless characters, yet her sharp response implied she knew about her fate. Had she somehow undergone character development?
It was impossible to tell, I couldn't read anything about her.
A heavy, uncomfortable silence stretched between us.
But the core certainty remained, this girl was absolutely not Cressida.
She was an anomaly, perhaps a twin, a magical clone, a doppelganger, or just a skilled imitator.
"You... You're not Cressida, are you?" I stated, my certainty absolute.
She tried to evade the question, but I pressed her, detailing every anomaly and behavioral inconsistency that led to my conclusion.
She conceded the truth with a strange request."And that's why I need your help."
I'd rather be erased, I thought, instantly rejecting her. Yet, there had to be some catch, some reason for this brazen risk.
She was clearly nervous, but I wasn't expecting anything profound.
Then she spoke, her voice low and direct: "...Because I'm a real person."
My heart was pounding - a frantic, uneven rhythm.
A... A real person?
What did she mean by "real"?
Was she trying to convince me she was the Cressida I knew? Or was she a magical clone, desperately trying to affirm her own existence?
"A... real person?" I echoed, barely a whisper.
"I'm a transmigrator," she stated, cutting through my confusion. "I was a reader of this novel. I woke up in this body."
...
...
Oh my god.
A real person. That simple fact shattered the tedious structure of my existence.
This explained everything.
The broken script, the void where her future should be, it wasn't plot failure.
It was true anomaly. She wasn't just a character, she was living proof that my world was truly fake.
A true existence.
The shock slowly gave way to a thrilling, dangerous idea.
If she is real, she holds the key to escaping this painted cage.
She is the closest thing to genuine existence I have ever encountered.
My focus sharpened.
I have to study her.
I need to understand how her reality works.
I must learn every detail about what makes her real.
I won't let her go.
She belongs here, near me.
She is my prize, my living, breathing tether to the world I truly want.
I will ensure she stays.
Surely, she wasn't lying. Everything, terrifyingly, just made sense.
If this is true, then with her, I can finally see the outside world! I can taste it, feel it, see reality reflected through her existence!
If she falls in love with me, will that be my ticket out? Will that be my chance to step into her reality?
And if not... then she has absolutely no choice. I can finally have a real friend. A real anchor.
"Well, why didn't you lead with that?!" I practically beamed, the darkness in my eyes instantly dissolving.
Forget the other Jewels.
I have my own true Jewel now.