"Damn it...! What the hell are they all acting so happy for?!"
Hiding in the shadows, Cyan watched Neries and her group train, his eyes narrowed with resentment. It had only been a few days since they had officially severed ties with him.
Watching the very people who had abandoned him and walked out on the party laughing and smiling, he spat a curse into the air.
"Are you kidding me...? Of all the people to cozy up to, why him? Why that piece of scum?!"
He had gone out of his way to look after them. He’d practically carried them this far, giving them a taste of the good life. The fact that they’d thrown his kindness back in his face just to leave was enough to make his blood boil.
But this? Seeing them buddy-buddy with Yugo—the man who had been a constant thorn in his side—looking like they were having the time of their lives? To Cyan, that was a step beyond betrayal. It was an insult.
When a party banishes the protagonist, they’re supposed to realize how stupid they were and come crawling back in regret! That’s the classic trope! So why are they training to fight without me?!
Cyan recalled the stories from another world he’d devoured in his previous life, particularly the popular "Banished and Vindicated" web novels.
In those tales, the party would kick out the lead character, failing to realize he was the secret lynchpin holding everything together. Later, they’d realize their mistake, face the consequences of belittling his true power, and spend the rest of the story in misery. That was the gold standard.
He was in that exact position now. He was the banished protagonist.
Cyan was convinced that his party had only ever succeeded because of his brilliance. He was the one with the meta-knowledge of the game Luminous History; he was the one who had masterminded their every move. He had been certain the day would come when they realized they were nothing without him and begged for his return.
He had already planned his response. He was going to form an even stronger party and, when they finally came back crying, he’d give them the iconic line: "It's too late for regrets!"
But the reality unfolding before his eyes was deviating wildly from the script.
Seeing the people who should have been helpless without him training to stand on their own two feet made his stomach churn. It felt like they were shouting to the world that he truly wasn't needed.
He looked down on Neries and the others as mere game characters, yet every time the realization hit that they were now objectively better than him, he shook his head, desperately refusing to accept the truth.
"Stop it. There's no way you people should be better than me...!"
It wasn't just Neries, either. Yugo was part of the problem.
That piece of scum was a minor villain, an antagonist destined to lose to the protagonist in the early game and spiral into ruin. So why was he enjoying himself, surrounded by beautiful heroines?
Like the traitors who kicked Cyan out, these people were supposed to be stepping stones—tools meant to prop up the protagonist’s journey.
The idea that mere game characters could ignore him—the protagonist—and live happy lives was an abomination. Glaring at Yugo and his friends, Cyan let out a low, venomous growl.
"I'll never forgive you. I'll make sure every single one of you ends up in the dirt...!"
He refused to accept a future where Neries found her feet. Yugo, too, needed to go back to being the pathetic loser he was meant to be, abandoned by the world.
There was no way he would allow himself to be the only unhappy one. He wouldn't permit the world to follow a route he hadn't sanctioned.
With rage, hatred, and jealousy simmering in his gut, Cyan watched Neries and Yugo laugh with their friends.
He would make them pay. He would make them understand the gravity of the sin of disregarding him. Clinging to his hollow pride as a "protagonist," Cyan moved into action, his heart consumed by his own selfish delusions.