Distorting And Restarting Life From Zero In Another World.

1 - Do Fictional Worlds Really Exist?!

Any art that appears in this story isn't and will never be mine!

Writing style:

Y/N = {Your name}

L/N = {Surname or middle name}

E/C = {Eye color}

H/C = {Hair color}

Format:

"[Y/N]: No way!" For dialogues.

"As the gently breeze of the wind pass..." For general occurrences.

"Even after that..." For inner thoughts.

"Al SHAMAK!" For special moments.

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The night was calm, a stillness that Y/N had grown accustomed to in the rural area he called home. The soft light of his lamp cast a warm glow over the pages of the book in his hands. It was late, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. The familiar world of "Re:Zero" captivated him, drawing him into its complex narrative and intricate characters. He was deep into one of his favorite volumes, the words on the page transporting him to a place where magic and danger intertwined with destiny.

His eyes moved quickly across the lines, absorbing every detail with a mix of familiarity and renewed enthusiasm. Even though he had read these volumes more times than he could count, the story never lost its grip on him. Each re-read brought with it the same emotions-excitement, dread, hope-and he found himself just as invested as the first time he had discovered the series.

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he closed the book, his fingers tracing the cover with a sense of fondness.

[Y/N]: "No matter how many times I read the volumes, I always get caught up in the story..."

He murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly. The thought of living in a world like Re:Zero had crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. It was a ridiculous notion, one that belonged in the realm of fantasy, yet it persisted.

[Y/N]: "A lifetime in the world of Re:Zero, huh?"

He mused aloud, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all.

[Y/N]: "I think I need to stop these... fanciful thoughts of mine."

But even as he said it, he knew it was easier said than done. The allure of such a world, despite its dangers and heartbreaks, was strong.

With a careful gesture, Y/N returned the book to its rightful place on the bookshelf, where the other volumes in the series rested in neat rows. They were his treasures, each one a gateway to an escape from the mundane reality he found himself in every day. His fingers lingered on the spines for a moment before he turned away.

[Y/N]: "I hope the third season will be adapted in a satisfactory way,"

He muttered, heading toward the kitchen.

[Y/N]: "But until it's released, I'm just going to stick to Arc 7 volumes and beyond."

He was already looking forward to the next installment, eager to see how the story would unfold. But that anticipation was tempered by the long wait that always came with it.

As he began preparing a quick meal, the monotony of his routine settled over him like a heavy blanket. Stirring the ingredients absentmindedly, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction creeping in. The same old routine, day after day-it was starting to wear on him.