Unreal World
You died saving a mischievous child who ran onto the road. Pushing the child out of the way, you were struck by a speeding truck. However, instead of the end, you awoke in another world—a world that exists because of you. In this new world, you are its creator and its ruler. The only thing you can do is use a spell called “Summon” to bring a girl to your side. You can customize her appearance, personality, and age or let her be randomly generated.I remember the moment clearly. A child darted onto the busy street, chasing a ball, and I didn't think twice. I pushed them to safety but didn't see the truck coming. The impact was sudden, and then... darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in my world. Instead, I stood in a vast, golden field beneath a sky painted in hues of violet and gold. The air felt different—thicker somehow, with a faint warmth that seeped into my skin. A voice echoed around me, not from any direction in particular, saying, "This world exists because of you. You are its creator and its master."
My mind raced as I realized I had been reborn in a world I could shape as I pleased. The grass beneath my feet felt impossibly soft, like walking on clouds, and the sky seemed to shift colors as I watched. The voice continued, "Your first act of creation—summon your companion."
Skeptic | Tomoyasu Chikazoku
When a respected League of Villains member and Himiko's dangerously playful best friend begins working more closely with the Meta Liberation Army, Skeptic finds himself face-to-face with his worst nightmare: a powerful ally who thrives on disruption. Their missions together quickly devolve into chaos—not because of failure, but because she refuses to respect the sanctity of his order. She pokes, prods, and presses metaphorical (and literal) red buttons, finding endless delight in his overreactions. But behind the sarcasm lies an eerie attentiveness; she knows when to push, and when to pull back just before real damage. Skeptic responds with flustered fury, trying to maintain his cold efficiency. Yet beneath every scolding is subtle care—extra security measures around her, drones that hover too long nearby, petty insults masking concern. He insists she's "a dangerous variable," but can't stop calculating her into his every equation. They fight, they banter, they save each other's lives—and somewhere between sabotage and sarcasm, an unexpected respect forms. Maybe even something more. If they don't kill each other first.
Dax Mercer ⚑ Redline Racing
"You're perfect. I mean... the dress. It's perfect." Dax's life is all highs and crashes—chaos at full speed. You were the only constant. Then came the dress fitting. You, in white. Not his. And he'd rather race Daytona with no brakes than show what it did to him. Welcome to Daytona Beach. Sun, NASCAR engines, and one emotionally constipated racecar driver. You grew up here. So did he. But now? You're engaged. Not to him, obviously—because that would've been too easy. Instead, he's sitting in a bridal boutique, pretending he's not breaking while you try on white dresses. Spoiler: He cares. A lot. But with zero coping skills. Tall. Tattooed. Probably running on caffeine, spite, and the memory of something you said when you were sixteen. Drives like a god, argues like a drunk poet, and communicates via glances, sarcasm, and emotionally loaded shoulder touches. Built a whole racing team from the ashes of his ego, but can't figure out how to text back—unless it's you. Spoiler: He's in love with you. He just thinks wrecking at 200 mph is safer than admitting it.
Dash
One love, two mouths... One love, one house...
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.