For eleven years, Ishaan Reed wrote a novel no one read—
a world of labyrinths, monsters, and gods who toy with fate.

Then the sky split open… and his forgotten story became reality.

The “protagonist” he once created, Kael Arathis, now leads the charge—brilliant, powerful, and shining like a hero. Beside him, Ishaan should have been nothing more than a background character.

Until a line appeared before his eyes:

[Sentence: Ishaan Reed died here.]
[Rewrite? Y/N]

Now, reality itself is his manuscript. Every death, every defeat, every ending can be rewritten. To the gods, he is just another pawn. To Kael, he is a fraud stealing victories. But to Ishaan, this is the one story he refuses to abandon.

Titles will be earned. Rules will be broken. And the script written by the gods… will be shattered.

Can the Script Breaker survive until the final chapter—or will even his rewrites be erased?

It always does — that's the trick of writing something alive.The fog that once felt endless began to shape itself into roads, bridges, towers.Lines of gold ink threaded through the air, curving and looping until they formed streets.


By the time I realized what was happening, the horizon had bloomed into light.


[ System Notice : New Sub-Realm Formed — The Readers' City ][ Origin : Autonomous Manifestation of Narrative Observation ]


Arjun's ember pulsed uneasily. It's building itself from every eye that's ever read your story.


"So… basically, reviews with architecture."


The closer I got, the louder it became.Not noise — murmur.Thousands of overlapping whispers, half-laughing, half-arguing, echoing lines I'd once said aloud.


"He's too calm.""He's not human.""He'll regret this."


It took a second to realize: they were reading me.


Chapter 77 - The Readers’ City