---
Snowflakes drifted through the smoke, soft as ash, silent as regret.
Laraine Ashton lay in the wreckage of the battlefield—her battlefield—broken, bleeding, and more irritated than afraid. Her once-blue cloak was soaked red. Her vision blurred at the edges. Her body was... dying. And she didn't even care.
"I hope Adana chokes on her crown," she whispered, coughing blood onto the snow.
But then—just as everything faded to gray—
---
"Awaken, child."
The voice was soft—barely a whisper—but it sliced through the cold, sinking silence like a blade through silk.
Laraine's eyes fluttered open… only to find herself surrounded by a vast, endless white. A void. Still. Weightless. Empty.
Her brows knit in confusion.
Wasn't she… dead?
'This must be the afterlife...'
> "You're correct," the voice replied again, more amused this time. "You did die."
Her soul stirred—or, well, floated. She couldn't feel her body. Couldn't move.
Only exist.
"Who are you?" Laraine demanded, her voice echoing strangely. "And where am I?"
"You stand between life and death. And I," the voice rang again, now accompanied by the emergence of a glowing form, "am Viva, Goddess of your world."
A woman—no, a being beyond beauty—materialized before her.
She had long, luminescent hair that kissed her ankles, soft silver eyes that shimmered like stardust, and skin like polished moonstone. Her presence hummed with power—ageless, divine, weary.
Laraine blinked once.
Then again.
"…Seriously? A goddess?" she scoffed bitterly. "What's next? A magical second chance to fix everything with friendship and sparkles?"
"Ha!" Viva laughed softly. "No. Nothing quite so... merciful."
Laraine turned away—or tried to. "Then just let me die in peace."
"I can't," Viva said gently. "Because I made a mistake."
That got her attention.
Laraine stilled. "What?"
The goddess's expression faltered—cracks of guilt rippling across her divine calm.
"You were never meant to be the villain, Laraine," she said, voice tinged with something raw. "You were meant to be a hero. A light. A savior."
Laraine stared at her, unblinking.
"But I gave your role to another. Someone born of privilege. Someone who had your crown, your gifts, your fate—because the divine threads were manipulated. Your life was rewritten before it even began."
A pause. Silence stretching.
"You were cast out, called cursed, left to rot in the mountains not because of your sins… but because of mine."
Laraine's throat tightened. Her hands trembled.
She had long accepted her suffering. Her loneliness. Her hatred.
But to hear it wasn't fate?
That it wasn't punishment—just an accident?
She let out a humorless laugh. "So what now? You offer me an apology and a return ticket to misery?"
Viva smiled faintly. "No. I offer you power."
At that, a soft golden light flared in the goddess's palm, spiraling and condensing into a glowing orb.
"This," she said, "is a shard of my consciousness. I'm placing it within you. A living system—part oracle, part guide, part… pest."
"Meet Vi."
The orb pulsed, and suddenly—
{BZZZT! Initializing sarcasm mode... complete!
Hello, Host! I am Vi, your brand new Villainess System™. 10% conscience, 90% chaos. Let's burn the world, shall we?}
Laraine flinched. "You're putting that in my head?!"
"Yes," Viva said, her smile sad now. "Because I cannot fix the past. But I can arm you for what's to come."
"Vi will grant you passive skills, battle instincts, and enhancements tied to your will for revenge. You will not be the light of this world, Laraine. That chance is long gone."
"You will be its shadow."
Laraine swallowed hard, her body flickering with newfound energy.
"…What's the catch?"
"You must carve your path through blood and fire," Viva said. "But your vengeance will come. And should you succeed—you may reclaim what was stolen."
Vi buzzed again cheerily.
[ Warning: excessive kindness will be punished by sarcastic commentary and stat penalties.
Go get 'em, Tiger!]
Laraine let out a breathless, bitter laugh. "You really are a pest."
But she looked up—into the goddess's tired eyes—and for the first time in years, her voice held steel.
"…Alright then."
"I'll take the system."
"I'll take the power."
"And I'll take everything they owe me."
---
The stench of rot dragged her back first.
Burnt flesh. Coppery blood. Decay.
Laraine's eyes snapped open, lungs heaving—and immediately choked on the foul air. Her vision swam in darkness, but there was just enough light filtering through a tear in the stormy sky above to reveal the horror.
She was lying in a ditch.
No… a grave.
Bodies—twisted, broken, half-charred—were piled beneath and around her like discarded dolls. Their limbs tangled with hers. Their blood soaked her already-tattered clothes.
Laraine coughed violently, trying to push herself up, but her body screamed in protest. Pain shot down her spine. Her arms trembled.
"Wh… what…" Her voice cracked. "Where—?"
[System Booting…]
{Villainess System: VI, activated.}
Welcome back, my morally questionable meat sack!
Laraine's eye twitched. "What—what the actual hell is that voice?!"
{Language, Your Exiled Highness. Tsk-tsk. I just pulled you from the void of death and you're already being rude.
Anyway, congratulations! You've officially been reborn in the literal dumpster of war! Classy, right?}
She tried to sit up again, groaning. "I'm in a ditch full of corpses, and my savior is a talking parasite?"
{System. A sassy and divine system, thank you very much. Grafted to your soul directly by Goddess Viva herself.
Now hold tight. You clearly need a little help… You're weaker than a soggy biscuit.}
Before she could snap back, a sudden warmth surged through her veins. Her limbs tingled—then buzzed—as if lightning had kissed every muscle.
[System Alert: Passive Boost Unlocked]
{Stat Boost: +150% Physical Strength (Temporary Recovery Mode Initiated)
New Skill Acquired: [Veil of Shadows] – A Class-C Disguise Technique that conceals identity and aura.}
"W-What did you just do to me?" Laraine gasped as her body surged with unnatural vitality.
{ I upgraded you. You're welcome. Now climb, Princess. Let's get you out of this literal grave, before someone mistakes you for a corpse again.}
With gritted teeth and shaking arms, Laraine pressed her bloodstained fingers into the muddy slope of the pit. Her legs burned, but she climbed—slowly, steadily—grabbing onto roots and broken bones for leverage.
Each motion pulled at the agony in her ribs. Each heartbeat pounded with renewed determination.
She wasn't supposed to be alive.
She wasn't supposed to come back.
But she was.
And when her hands finally broke free of the grave and gripped the grass at the edge—pulling her up and over, panting like a wounded animal—something deep in her soul cracked open.
The world had tried to bury her.
But Laraine Ashton wasn't done yet.
{ Now then… Shall we begin your villain arc, milady?}
---