Glen, like every other kid, had a very creative imagination. He wrote a book when he was eight years old. It was clichéd and shallow, but he really had fun turning his thoughts into words.  Glen, like every other adult, had quite an embarrassing childhood. He used to call himself hero, imagined himself having enough strength to defeat random demon lords whose origins remain questionable. He used to love writing about them. He now writes as a profession.  One day, he finds himself in the midst of everything he wrote as a kid. How will Glen survive in a world directed by an eight year old version of himself?