Liam sat at his desk, staring at the spreadsheet on his monitor, though none of the numbers really registered. The office was alive with the familiar hum of printers and muffled conversations, but Liam tuned it all out. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to work, while his mind wandered far from the drab confines of his cubicle. He could almost hear the clash of swords and the crackle of magic in his head, replaying scenes from his favorite novel, Aetherium Chronicles.

For years, Aetherium Chronicles had been Liam’s escape from the monotony of daily life. It was more than just a story—it was a lifeline. In the novel, the protagonist was a noble outcast who clawed his way to greatness, defying fate and carving out his own path. Liam admired him, envied him even. The protagonist had a purpose, a goal worth fighting for. Liam, on the other hand, felt like a background character in his own life.

“Liam!” A sharp voice cut through his daydream. His manager, Mr. Carson, was standing by his desk, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-yes, sir?” Liam stammered, straightening up.

“Got those reports done yet?”

Liam hesitated, his eyes darting to the blank spreadsheet. “Uh, almost sir.”

Carson sighed, shaking his head. “Almost doesn’t cut it. I need them on my desk by noon.”

Liam nodded meekly as Carson walked away, muttering under his breath about slackers. As soon as the coast was clear, Liam slumped back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh. He glanced at the clock. Still three hours until lunch. Three long, soul-crushing hours.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of half-hearted typing and frequent glances at the clock. When noon finally rolled around, Liam grabbed his lunch and retreated to the break room. He found an empty corner and pulled out his phone, opening the latest chapter of Aetherium Chronicles.

The protagonist was in the middle of a heated duel, his sword flashing with arcs of lightning. Liam’s pulse quickened as he read, completely absorbed in the action. The vivid descriptions, the tension, the stakes—it all felt so real. He could almost feel the weight of the sword in his own hand, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

But as he reached the end of the chapter, reality came crashing back. He was still just Liam, a corporate drone with nothing to his name but a small apartment and a growing collection of fantasy novels. He sighed, tucking his phone away. If only life were as thrilling as the stories he loved.

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The workday dragged on, each minute stretching into an eternity. By the time Liam finally stepped out of the office, the sun was already beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city streets. He made his way to the subway, blending into the crowd of tired commuters.

As he sat on the train, he couldn’t help but replay the latest chapter of Aetherium Chronicles in his mind. The protagonist had been cornered, outnumbered, yet he had fought with unwavering determination. Liam admired that strength, that drive. It was everything he lacked.

The train jolted to a stop, and Liam shuffled out with the rest of the passengers. He walked the familiar route to his apartment, stopping by the convenience store to grab dinner—a sad-looking sandwich and a bottle of soda.

At home, he sank into his couch, the weight of the day pressing down on him. He turned on his laptop, the screen casting a pale glow in the dimly lit room. His mouse hovered over the icon for his work email, but instead, he opened the novel’s forum. He scrolled through threads discussing theories and character arcs, losing himself in the lively debates.

Hours slipped by as Liam immersed himself in the world of Aetherium. It was his refuge, the one place where he felt truly alive. But as he closed his laptop and prepared for bed, a familiar heaviness settled over him. No matter how vivid the story, it was still just that—a story. And tomorrow, he would wake up to the same dull routine.

The next morning was like any other. Liam woke to the blaring of his alarm, stumbled through his morning routine, and made his way to the office. He blended into the crowd, just another face in the sea of commuters.

But fate had other plans.

As Liam crossed the street near his apartment, he noticed a young girl standing at the edge of the sidewalk. She was clutching a phone, her eyes glued to the screen, oblivious to her surroundings. Liam’s heart stopped as he saw the truck barreling down the road, its horn blaring.

“Hey!” Liam shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. The girl didn’t react.

Without thinking, Liam sprinted forward, his legs moving on pure instinct. He reached the girl just in time, shoving her out of the truck’s path. The impact came a split second later—a force like a sledgehammer slamming into his chest. Liam was thrown backward, his body hitting the pavement with a sickening thud.

Pain exploded through him, sharp and unrelenting. He gasped for air, his lungs refusing to cooperate. The world around him blurred, the sounds of the city fading into a distant hum.

The girl was safe. That was the only thought that brought him any comfort. He could hear her voice, panicked and tearful, but he couldn’t make out the words. He tried to lift his hand, to reassure her, but his body wouldn’t obey.

As the darkness closed in, Liam felt a strange sense of peace. His life may not have been extraordinary, but in this moment, he had made a difference. That had to count for something.

His vision dimmed, the world slipping away. Somewhere deep in his mind, a final thought surfaced: If I could do it all over again... I’d want to live in a world worth fighting for.

And then, everything went black.