Anastasia Romanov (Fate/Marvel)

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Anastasia Romanov POV

I can't even begin to count how long I've been trapped in this state of isolation, cut off from the rest of the world.

In my solitude, I found companionship with Eldritch Beasts, preparing myself for war while planning how to crush every revolutionist and communist threat.

My family, as kind as they are to me, even my sisters who tried earnestly to connect with me, will never truly understand the depths of my mind.

Everything about me, all my fears and ambitions, remains incomprehensible to them.

The only exception to this is Viy, my ever-loyal friend and companion.

This overwhelming feeling of isolation, this crushing boredom, has nearly driven me to the brink of madness.

Yet, I hold on because I know I have no other choice.

The only person who can salvage this crumbling Empire is me.

Out of everyone in my family, I am the sanest.

My father, despite his power, is unreliable and incapable of saving anything. My mother? She's just as powerless. And my sisters? Well, I can't claim to know them well enough to say, since my chronic trust issues have kept me distant from everyone.

In the end, I have nothing—nothing but my insecurities and Viy, the one constant keeping me grounded, standing loyally by my side.

Without Viy, I'd have succumbed to my darkest thoughts long ago. I would've given in to the temptation of ending it all. I know that without supernatural intervention, without magic—whatever label people want to put on it—keeping everything from collapsing would be impossible.

To be realistic, my age is my greatest obstacle. I'm too young. No one takes me seriously. I can only pull the strings from behind the scenes, doing everything within my power to save this empire from its imminent destruction. Yet no one acknowledges my efforts. No one even knows that the Empire teeters on the edge of annihilation. They go about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of how close they are to disaster, ignorant of how I've saved them from the brink.

No thanks, no validation, no inner peace. Just relentless, mind-numbing boredom.

This feeling, though, is hollow. There's no satisfaction in it. I don't dream of being a hero, nor do I fantasize about rebuilding this empire into something grander. I don't even know what I want anymore. My thoughts run wild, constantly pulling me away from any semblance of peace. I know all too well that I am not safe. Not yet. The Alien God still has its sights set on my family.

I often wonder, what if I just ended it all?

What if I gave up on everything?

What if I ran away or simply ended my life?

The idea of peace—of finally escaping it all—sounds so tempting.

As much as I've clung to the desire to live as a NEET, to isolate myself from everyone, even that has lost its appeal. In the end, I feel nothing but an unrelenting hollowness.

There's no entertainment, no trashy novels from that site called Webnovel to read, no games to play, no memes to watch. I stare at my own work, my novels, writing them just to stave off the crushing monster that is boredom, to maintain a shred of my sanity.

There is nothing left for me to do but entertain myself with the worlds I create in my writing.

Without that, there would be nothing.

"You know, Viy... I don't understand why, but whenever boredom comes in, I always end up having these suicidal thoughts. Is this a normal thing for humans, or is it just me?" I paused from my writing, letting the question that had plagued me for so long finally spill out.

Unlike other humans who crave immortality, dream of ruling over others, or desperately desire endless wealth throughout their lives, I don't seek any of it. At times, I've thought about pursuing those things, but ultimately, I gave up. I found nothing there—nothing but an overwhelming sense of hollowness and boredom.

In the past, I believed that seeking spiritual pleasure or emotional validation from others might be the key to filling that void. Yet in the end, they didn't. They only served as temporary distractions, fleeting moments of satisfaction that never truly solved the emptiness. Sure, I've felt pleasure from the emotions of others—their love, their pain, their joy, all of it. Every reaction they gave me was amusing, even captivating at times. But that's all it ever was—amusement, nothing more.

And what about survival? Why do I always find myself saving this empire, my family, and everyone who stands in the way of their survival if not out of some primal instinct to keep living? It's never been about what I truly desire. It's just human instinct at work, nothing more.

To this day, I still don't know what I truly want from this life. I've sought answers, yet all I've found is more nothingness.

"I will never allow you to entertain such thoughts again, even if you want to, Anastasia," Viy declared firmly.

I didn't respond.

Instead, I resumed writing, curious to see where the story would lead, wondering where it might end.

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