FMRV | Chapter 1

A villain, you see, is a noble role.

At least, that’s what I think. Why, you ask? Because it’s only with a villain that a story becomes truly vibrant. With an evil role, the good one—the protagonist—can shine. It’s like how shadows form where the sun shines, or how there’s naturally a bottom when there’s a top.

Villains inject tension into the story, set events in motion, and drive the plot forward. And that’s not all. The readers of the story often rally together as they despise the villain, sparking discussions and debates that sometimes turn chaotic. And wouldn’t you know it? That chaos often makes the story famous.

But more than anything, the moment when the villain’s existence truly shines is when they stand next to the protagonist. Because of the villain, the protagonist grows (not always in a positive sense, of course), learns to treasure their relationships, gains profound truths about life that they would never have realized otherwise, and moves forward.

In short, a villain is an essential, irreplaceable element for a protagonist to reach their happy ending.

And so, I thought to myself: The one with the most to do and the hardest role in any story isn’t the protagonist—it’s the villain.

What I didn’t know then was that I’d end up possessed by that overworked villain.

At the edge of spring, marking the beginning of early summer, in June:

“Attention!”

A booming voice echoed through the hall. This place was a joint auditorium located within the Imperial Army Territory, and soldiers carrying the Empire’s flag stood in neat, crisp uniforms. The grand hall was packed with countless soldiers.

“Salute to the newly appointed Supreme Commander!”

Once again, the loud voice thundered, and the soldiers saluted in unison. Like wind-up toys moving with mechanical precision, they performed the action flawlessly. Amid the heavy tension filling the hall, a single man strode forward with unhurried steps.

Black hair, deep brown eyes. The gaze beneath his thick brows was sharper and more unyielding than that of any soldier present. Towering like the Empire’s flag among his comrades, the man walked slowly along the path created as soldiers stepped aside.

A black cape trailed dramatically behind him, sweeping the ground with his measured steps. The numerous insignias adorning his shoulders and chest gleamed under the lights, while the violet sash crossing from his shoulder to his chest symbolized the Empire itself.

With a stoic expression, the man stopped in front of the stage. Above him, the flags of the Imperial Army and the Imperial Palace crossed to form an X-shape. His gaze lingered on the sight briefly before he ascended the stage.

Waiting to greet him was the former commander. Standing before his superior, the man saluted sharply. The senior officer returned the salute with a warm smile, and the hall resounded with the command: “At ease!”

“The army is in your hands now, Theo.”

“I will honor the duty.”

With a smile, the former commander removed a gold emblem from his own uniform and affixed it to Theo’s. It was an insignia shaped like an eagle, a symbol of the Empire’s military might—something only the highest-ranking officer could possess.

The ceremony continued seamlessly from there. Everyone celebrated Theo’s inauguration, and he expressed his gratitude in kind.

“…Luke.”

When the event concluded, Theo approached the generals standing nearby. Among them, the first person he extended a hand to was none other than Luke.

“Well done.”

Luke’s light brown eyes moved slowly to regard Theo’s hand. Then, with a crooked smile, he gripped it tightly.

“Mocking me?”

“…You don’t seem thrilled about my appointment.”

As if. I’m absolutely delighted. Concealing his true thoughts behind a twisted smile, Luke let go of Theo’s hand with a snap and promptly descended the steps, exiting the hall ahead of the others.

“Did you see that? Commander Luke just brushed off the commander’s hand.”

“Still being defiant, huh? The outcome’s already decided, though, isn’t it?”

The soldiers, who had been pretending not to notice, began whispering among themselves.

“He must be furious. He did everything he could to take that position for himself.”

“Serves him right. He’s just reaping what he sowed.”

Yes, it was the classic tale of karma—cause and effect, rewarding good and punishing evil. There was no other way to describe it.

As he exited the hall, Luke clenched his fist. As always, the protagonist achieved their desired success and triumph in the story, while the villain met a miserable defeat as they rightfully deserved.

And that was exactly the ending Luke had hoped for!

“Ugh, that was long. Getting the protagonist to succeed is such a pain.”

Scratching the back of his head, Luke threw off the cumbersome cape.

The story was over. The conclusion had passed. Now, it was time for him to head off and write his own epilogue.