Out of all people, why am I the ntred protagonist

Unknown woman's POV

Across the street, I spot a pair of lovebirds lost in their own little world.

I call out to them, rudely slicing through their romantic atmosphere.

Were they about to kiss?

The woman—dressed in a pink-patterned sweater—glares daggers at me.

Don't care. I refuse to let them bask in their happiness while I'm here, eating sour grapes.

Despite the interruption, they come over, curiosity outweighing their irritation.

"Put your hand on the orb first, lady," I say, lifting it between us.

She hesitates for a moment before placing her delicate hand atop it. I grip the orb's sides, feeling the surge of energy within.

My vision twists.

Darkness floods in.

Shapes swirl, shadows whisper, and then—

A handsome, blonde, muscular man appears in my sight. He's leaning against a bed, smirking. And in front of him—the woman now standing before me—is… doing things.

Lewd things.

How naughty.

I arch a brow. Never would've guessed an innocent-looking woman could harbor such bold kinks.

But hey—we listen, we don't judge.

Still, it's intriguing.

I let the vision fade and speak, my voice steady.

"A person will come into your life… and ruin your relationship. You must avoid them at all costs."

The woman twitches, visibly uneasy.

The man beside her, however, reacts with astonishment.

Interesting.

Not wasting a second, I gesture toward him.

"Your turn, boy."

He places his hand on the orb without hesitation.

The moment his skin touches it—darkness engulfs me again.

But this time, it's different.

Threads—countless threads of fate—unravel before my eyes.

Not dozens. Not hundreds.

Thousands.

Each one a different path, twisting and weaving through time.

Some end in death.

Some end in ruin.

Some end with entire worlds collapsing.

Who… is this man?

Finding his fate is like searching for a needle in an endless haystack.

Threads of destiny tangle and twist, too many to follow, too many to make sense of.

Then—

A flash of blue light.

A presence surges through the darkness, vast and unknowable.

[You've seen too much.]

A holographic hand—shimmering in cold, ethereal blue—grasps my throat.

Tightens.

Choking me.

Forcing the vision to shatter.

I gasp, staggering back as reality snaps into place. The man's fate remains a mystery—locked away.

I withdraw my hand, offering him nothing.

His expression flickers with disappointment, but he says nothing. With a small nod, he turns, leaving with his lover.

I watch them disappear into the crowd.

Then, slowly, I reach up and lower my hood.

Snow-white hair spills over my shoulders, strands catching the dim light.

My blue eyes—vast as the ocean, deep as the unknown— lift toward the sky.

"The world is about to turn upside down."

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.

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Lukas POV

The portal swirls violently behind me before collapsing into itself, vanishing with a faint hum.

I step forward.

The dungeon.

The once-bustling Metro subway now lies in ruin.

Cracked tiles and shattered glass litter the floor, remnants of a world long forgotten. Moss and vines creep along the crumbling pillars, stretching toward the ceiling like nature's silent reclamation.

I slowly make my way down through the stairs cautiously.

I descend the stairs slowly, each step measured, each movement cautious.

Silence.

Not the peaceful kind—but an unnatural, suffocating quiet.

I tighten my grip on my worn-out sword, my other hand adjusting the frayed edges of my tattered cloak. With every step, the air grows heavier, the weight of the unknown pressing down on me.

I reach the surface.

Then—

A glow.

Bright, crimson eyes pierce the darkness, eerie and unblinking. The faint sound of padded footsteps approaches, slow and deliberate. A predator.

I steel myself.

[Will to live] senses an enemy

This is it. My first real fight in a fantasy world.

From the shadows, the creature steps forward—a dire wolf.

Its massive form is covered in matted fur, its sharp claws clicking against the cracked pavement. Its maw parts slightly, revealing glistening fangs, and then—

It grins.

Mocking me.

Ah… I see.

It's looking down on me—on my frail frame, my ragged gear. To it, I am nothing more than prey.

Big mistake.

A sudden jolt surges through my body—an instinct far sharper than my own.

A warning. A command.

[The host chooses to fight.]

My muscles tense. My breathing slows.

[Fight Mode: Activated.]

The world sharpens.

Without hesitation, the wolf lunges.

I anticipated it.

A sidestep—right.

The wolf's eyes widen in surprise.

Momentum—against it. My opening—now.

I raise my sword high and bring it down.

Steel meets flesh.

My dull, battered blade should barely cut—but against all odds, it slices deep into the wolf's stomach.

A yelp. A snarl. Blood spills.

I exhale, my heartbeat steady.

"That ended well," I exhale, letting my guard down for just a second.

A mistake.

The wolf's body shudders.

Then—

It moves.

Crimson eyes snap open, burning with dying resolve.

Shit.

A guttural growl rumbles from its throat as it throws its head back—a long, haunting howl piercing through the silence.

Not a cry of pain.

A summon.

I lunge forward, blade poised to finish the job—too late.

The sound echoes.

Then…

Glowing red eyes—dozens—blink open in the shadows.

The air turns heavy, thick with the scent of blood and the low, rumbling growls of approaching predators.

One. Two. Five.

Five dire wolves emerge from the darkness, their massive forms prowling forward, teeth bared, muscles tensed.

My grip tightens around my worn-out sword.

"Why is my luck so bad?"

I square my stance, forcing my breathing to steady.

The hunt has begun.

.

.

.

The wolves sniff the air, their glowing red eyes narrowing as they take in the scent of fresh blood.

Their fallen kin lies motionless at my feet.

A tense silence.

Then—a growl.

Low and guttural, it ripples through the pack, their fury evident. But they don't rush in recklessly.

No.

They advance slowly, their steps calculated, their bodies coiled like springs ready to strike.

Then, without warning—

Two wolves from behind break formation.

One circles to my left.

The other flanks my right, its movements swift and precise.

Meanwhile, a third holds my attention, standing firm in front of me, a distraction—a feint.

My eyes widen.

"A coordinated attack?"

They're intelligent.

My grip tightens on my battered sword.

If I misstep even once—I won't walk away from this fight.

The wolf on my right lunges, its razor-sharp claws slicing through the air, aiming straight for my throat.

At the same time—

The second wolf charges from the left, its massive jaws yawning open, gleaming fangs ready to tear into flesh.

A perfect pincer attack.

One misstep, and I'll be ripped apart.

I tighten my grip, my mind racing.

Think. React. Survive.

My choice is clear—

I rush right, meeting the charging wolf head-on. If I can take it down first, I'll turn this fight into a one-on-one.

The right wolf strikes.

Its claws swipe through the air, inches from tearing into my flesh.

I dodge—just barely. The wind from its strike brushes past me, a cold reminder of what could have been.

No time to hesitate.

I counter.

My blade drives forward, piercing deep into its stomach.

A strangled yelp—warm blood splatters against my hands.

But I can't stop now.

I rip my sword free, the wolf collapsing, its body twitching in its final moments.

One down.

I snap my focus to the left—

The second wolf is already mid-lunge.

I brace myself.

As I ready myself for the next strike, a chill runs down my spine.

Something's wrong.

A faint shuffle behind me—too quiet, too precise.

Shit.

Another wolf.

It's creeping in, its presence masked by the chaos, waiting for the perfect moment to strike from behind.

"I just took one of you down, and now you want to gang up on me?" I scoff, frustration laced in my voice. "That's unfair!"

But whining won't save me.

Instead of counterattacking the wolf lunging at me from the front, I pivot sharply, dodging at the last second.

My goal?

Reposition.

I need to get both of them in my line of sight.

The wolves adjust.

They're learning.

This time, they don't attack separately.

They lunge together, a synchronized strike from both sides—one aiming for my throat, the other for my legs.

A killing move.

I dodge right, narrowly slipping between their assault. The rush of wind from their missed attacks brushes past me.

Before they can recover—

I raise my sword high.

A downward slash—swift, merciless.

Steel meets flesh.

A wolf howls in pain as my blade bites deep.

Blood splatters across my cloak, painting it a deep crimson. The scent of iron lingers in the air, thick and suffocating.

The remaining wolf lets out a furious snarl, baring its fangs before lunging at me with reckless abandon.

Predictable.

I sidestep to the left, my grip tightening around the hilt of my sword. In one fluid motion, I drive the blade into its throat.

A choked whimper. The sharp thud of a body hitting the ground.

I exhale.

But then—the world shifts.

The air turns dense, heavy. My vision sharpens unnaturally.

Before I can process it, my body moves on its own.

[Lightning Reflexes] activates.

[Usable turns: 3 moves]

Without thought, I rip my sword free and pivot—just in time to evade the deadly ambush of the pack leader.

A blur of motion. A glint of fangs.

It was waiting. Stalking. Biding its time for the perfect strike.

I barely escape the jaws of death.