I spun like a top, whirling through space without any sense of direction.

  Until I crashed.

  “Owww!” I cried out, landing straight on my butt.

  I blinked a few times, dazed. The ceiling above me was... black. Pitch black, but not like darkness. It shimmered faintly, like a layer of wet ink reflecting light that wasn’t there. Strange. I sat up slowly, rubbing my backside.

  “Where am I...?” I mumbled. “What did Ethan do this time...?”

  I pouted unconsciously, puffing my cheeks. Then my eyes scanned the room.

  It was massive. Like a studio — but old, ancient even. Every surface was covered in dark hues, from the velvet-draped tables to the oaken shelves. It looked like a forgotten atelier from a gothic fairytale. There were sheets of parchment, quills, pigments in dusty glass bottles, and dried herbs strung together like decorations.

  “Whoa... this is so cool,” I whispered, wide-eyed.

  I skipped over to one of the mannequins standing in the corner. My fingers reached instinctively for the small notebook in my pocket. I flipped it open and started sketching. The mannequin looked odd — like a humanoid fish with fins for shoulders and gills stitched into a cloak. It gave me weird, eldritch vibes. I loved it.

  I didn’t even care that I’d been tossed into a weird alternate world. My curiosity always won. It was stronger than fear.

  Until I heard a voice.

  [Savior detected.]

  I froze mid-sketch. My heart skipped a beat.

  [Installation complete.]

  “Installation of what?!” I spun around, but the room was empty.

  Then, out of nowhere, a glowing screen materialized in front of me. Semi-transparent and shimmering faintly. Words began to appear on it, one letter at a time.

  [Savior of the World]

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Mira Fener

  Role: Bearer of Modesty

  Madness: 0/100

  Sanity: 100/100

  Will: 10

  Power: 9

  Vigor: 5

  Body: 4

  Fortitude: 6

  Abilities: Modesty, Tongue of Babel

  “What...?” I tried touching the screen, but my fingers passed right through it.

  I blinked, and then giggled. A soft, happy sound escaped me.

  “Thanks, Ethan...” I whispered.

  I had no idea how or why I was here, but... I was chosen. Me. Mira Fener. A savior. A bearer of modesty. How fitting. I didn’t like the spotlight anyway.

  I kept reading the descriptions:

  [Modesty]

  As long as you do not boast, seek attention, or claim credit for your actions, magical entities and spiritual foes will have greater difficulty perceiving your presence. Increases your chance of remaining unnoticed in magical or spiritual environments.

  [Tongue of Babel]

  You can understand, speak, and write any language used in this world.

  My eyes sparkled.

  “That’s awesome!” I beamed.

  I wandered deeper into the atelier. The atmosphere felt like a blend between medieval charm and early Victorian eeriness. Strange symbols were carved into the walls, almost invisible. I leaned in closer, squinting.

  To my surprise... I could read them.

  “‘Deny pride, and truth shall unfold.’”

  Chills tickled my spine. My Tongue of Babel ability was already working. I ran my fingers gently across the markings, translating more of them as I followed the trail.

  Some were cryptic.

  Others were like instructions.

  Eventually, I reached a desk tucked in the back. An open book lay there, filled with impossibly complex runes and diagrams. But my eyes absorbed the meanings instantly.

  “The Rune of Silence is formed by three circles. One to contain sound, one to shape it, and one... to guard it.”

  I gasped softly.

  “Runes...?”

  I was enchanted. I dipped a feather quill into a small jar of blue ink and began copying the rune into my notebook. As I traced the last circle, a small idea bloomed in my mind.

  What if I could use these?

  What if... drawing them made them real?

  On the far wall, I spotted an old mirror. Cracked at the edges and stained with time. I stepped toward it and stared at my reflection.

  Same messy brown hair, same ink-stained white blouse, same worn-out black jeans. But my eyes... they looked different. Brighter. Like something inside me had awakened.

  I wasn’t just a girl who liked to draw anymore.

  I was a Savior.

  A flicker of light pulsed in front of me. A new screen appeared.

  [New Skill Unlocked: Runic Mind]

  You can perceive and interpret runic patterns etched into any surface. When drawing them with your own ink, their magical effects may activate. The more complex the rune, the greater the mental cost.

  System Note:

  “Modesty sees what pride ignores. The world hides its secrets in the lines of silence.”

  I blinked.

  “That’s perfect...!”

  It was like the world had given me a magical brush, and everything around me was a canvas waiting to be drawn on.

  I returned to the desk, pulled out a scrap of old cloth, dipped the quill in red ink, and carefully recreated the Rune of Silence.

  As I finished the last line, a soft shimmer danced across the symbol.

  And then — everything around me fell silent.

  No footsteps. No breath. No hum of magic.

  Just silence.

  I stood in the middle of it, stunned.

  Then, the rune faded away.

  I had done it. I had cast my first spell. No shouting, no flair. Just a quiet drawing.

  And it had worked.

  My heart swelled.

  It didn’t mean I was strong yet — but it meant I was right. I was walking the path meant for me.

  I looked at myself again in the dusty mirror. Fingers stained with ink, a red rune glowing faintly on the edge of my notebook.

  “Looks like we’ve got a long journey ahead, Modesty...” I whispered.

  I snapped my notebook shut with a soft thud and turned toward a tall door at the far end of the atelier. It hadn’t been there before. It was covered in faded runes, like the wall itself had decided to open a passage.

  I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side.

  But I knew one thing.

  I was going to save this world.

  In my own way.

  With silence, strokes of ink, and a humble heart.