Sin of Vanity

I got sick and finally discovered that the world I was in was just a story born out of fantasy. When I struggled to rise from the grave of my "real" self, I lost everything except a void of hatred. Then, I was thrown into the endless reincarnation of the battlefield between the "virtual world" and the "real world" again and again. Here, heroes in ancient history, characters in fantasy works, and exiles from thousands of broken worlds... All have their names erased, forced to play established roles, and hunt each other in a vast and bloody theater. Real people and virtual spirits, protection and devouring, fantasy and reality. Everyone is involved in this never-ending war. And I want to whisper to this "real" world built with layers of lies: I am the terminal disease that you cannot cure.