The Imperators Throne: I Wrote This Hell

I sucked in a sharp breath, my entire body freezing.

OH F*CK ME, I HOPE I'M TRIPPING...

BOOM.

The shotgun roared. A split second before impact, everything went white.

I felt something slam into my chest, an unstoppable force, sending me hurtling through the shattered remains of my apartment. My ears rang violently, the world spinning in a disorienting blur of color and light.

Then. Nothing.

Somewhere… Beyond Reality.

I woke up to the sensation of wind whipping against my face.

My body was weightless, plummeting through the endless expanse of a dark, swirling void. Stars flickered like dying embers, stretching infinitely in every direction.

I twisted mid air, my stomach flipping, panic surging through my veins.

"WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON NOW?!"

A deep, celestial booming laughter rumbled around me.

"WELCOME TO YOUR NEW LIFE, CHEAPSCATE DIPS*IT AUTHOR."

I whipped my head around.

Above me, no, all around me, was a colossal, g*dlike figure, shrouded in shifting constellations, his silhouette outlined against the vast nothingness of the cosmos. His eyes gleamed with d*vine authority, his presence crushingly overwhelming.

It was him.

G*d. THE BIG G. The same keyboard warrior motherf*cker from my comment section. I felt my entire soul collapse in on itself.

"NO. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. THIS CAN'T BE REAL. THIS IS A F*CKING FEVER NIGHTMARE."

I roared because this was just way too ridiculous.

Big G grinned, his ethereal form shifting as he raised a single, cosmic hand and snapped his fingers. Reality split open before me.

Through the rift, I saw a massive, the as certain seniors and juniors of the writing community would like to call It the deep blue planet.

A world I knew very, very well. Gaia. My own damn version of E*rth.

"NO, WAIT JUST A MOMENT YOU MOTHERF*CKER AT LEAST GIVE ME THE LEGENDARY G*DDAMN GOLDEN FINGER FIRST"

I screamed. Too late. The void yanked me down. I plummeted toward the surface, the cities, the landscapes, and soon to be battlefields rushing toward me at impossible speeds.

I could hear the wind whistling In my ears. I crashed straight through the clouds, a flaming comet hurtling toward my own g*ddamn fictional world.

"I AM GOING TO KILL THAT MOTHERF*CKER!"

And then impact and darkness.

...

Gaia, Spartanum Ducatum, Nova Roma 1936 January 1, Ares Military Academy.

"…And thus, the first and the last Imperator of Spartanum Imperium Alucard Von Death began his lifelong conquest, forging a mighty Imperium from nothing but a single village. Through iron and fire, he laid waste to his enemies, subjugating entire continent under his banner of eternal dominion…"

A deep, authoritative voice droned on, reverberating through my skull like a relentless hammer.

My head throbbed, my vision blurry, my entire body feeling like I'd just been thrown into a meat grinder and spat out.

What…? What the f*ck was happening?

I tried to move, only to realize I was seated on something soft, almost luxurious. My body felt heavy, weighed down by layers of fabric and jewelry.

The scent of incense and polished wood filled my nostrils, mingling with the distant aroma of wine and something sickly sweet.

I blinked hard, my vision slowly sharpening.

The first thing I saw was an old bald man his scalp shining brightly, draped in a ceremonial toga over his black service uniform, standing before a massive hall lined with hellenic marble pillars that were simply work of art.

Behind him, an enormous map of the world was unfurled, its parchment ancient just like the pillars, covered in intricate markings and borders.

His deep set eyes scanned the room, his voice filled with the weight of history as he continued.

"…But as all things, even the mightiest of empires must one day crumble. Upon his death, the Imperium fractured, splintering into four factions, three Duchies and one Kingdom."

Wait. Hold the f*ck up just a moment. That name, Alucard Von Death. The Imperium fracturing into four factions. I knew this history. Because I f*cking wrote it.

A creeping dread slithered up my spine as I glanced around. The hall was filled with young cadets, second rich generation either fat because of too much eating aka gorging themselves on ewrything possible or beyond skinny because of exexrucial activities aka visiting the red light district nightly 24/7 noble brats that were only here pass the time and hard working commoners that hoped to change their fate, all seated in an anphiteatre like classroom.

And then, as I glanced down at my own body, A gold embroidered tunic, plush silk robes, and so many g*ddamn rings on my fingers that they could buy a city.

My stomach dropped. Oh. F*ck no. I grabbed my head as a surge of memories, foreign yet familiar, crashed into my mind like a tidal wave.

The Body I Now Possessed… Dracula Von Death. The Imperial Family's disgrace.

A wastrel, the very embodiment of the classical second generation rich young master the emperor of young masters, a living, breathing example of nepotism gone wrong.

The youngest grandson of the current Emperor, the youngest son of the late Crown Prince, and the most notorious debauched wastrel coach potato noble in the entire world.

I saw flashes of this new identity's memories. Binge drinking in br*thels, gambling away fortunes, beating the s*it out of commoners while piss drunk, disgracing the family name every chance he got.

A man whose only real accomplishments were surviving assassination attempts, mostly by pure dumb luck, or more correctly said because of plot armor.

Dracula Von Death was supposed to be the body of my novel's main character. The protagonist was supposed to fully awaken this time unlike his first reincarnation as Alucard Von Death and those that followed after him.

But now… I was him. MOTHERF*CKER, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE F*CKING KIDDING ME. I AM ROYALLY AND UTTERLY F*CKED.

I sat frozen in place, my brain melting down at the sheer cosmic proportions of f*ckery of my situation.

Alright. Alright. Let's calm down and analyze. I got assassinated by big Gs hitman Truck kun, sent to a fictional universe I wrote, and reincarnated as the worst possible character, the infamous Dracula Von Death, the Imperial family's biggest f*ck up before he awakened his second lifes memorries.

But wait, it gets better.

This wasn't just any isekai. No, no, no. I wasn't in some comfy, harem building, s*x, d*ugs and rock and roll, blasting my way through cosmos that was my books first part kind of setting.

No.

I was in my fictional universes later part that I personally crafted from a cursed fusion of W* 40K, H*lo, S*ar W*rs, and L*vecraftian horror.

A universe where the weak die, the strong die slightly later, and the "protagonist" only barely clings to life through sheer bloodlust and a terrifying amount of luck.

An alternative universe whose time had been rewined that was about to experience cosmic disasters once again so horrific that even the g*ds feared them, and this time because the MC broke the existences Itself bottom line by rewinding time and creating a new timeline.

With his first unconcious reincarnation those cosmic disasters were going to strike even sooner and stronger, the first disaster that destroyed the galaxy In the original timeline Is a cutie compared what comes after.

200 years. That's how much time I had before the first catastrophe struck. Then another. Then another. And then…

Well, let's just say no amount of "plot armor" would save my hairy ass past the 500 year mark If I deviated even by a tiny bit from MCs actions that I wrote.

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching slightly.

I WAS F*CKED. F*CKED BEYOND WORDS.

I was still processing the fact that my entire life expectancy had just been reduced to a countdown when a sharp voice cut through my existential crisis.

"Prince Dracula, if you are going to make faces like a dying rat, at least do it outside of my classroom."

The professor's voice rang through the amphitheater classroom. I snapped back to reality and turned my gaze toward the old man standing at the front of the class. His bushy eyebrows were furrowed, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation.

The entire room of students, noble brats, rich young masters, and commoner scholarship cadets erupted into laughter.

"Hah! I knew the prince was drunk again!"

"Did he piss himself this time?"

"Maybe he just realized how stupid he actually is."

The room filled with mocking whispers and sneering laughter.

Thats right, I wrote the classical faceslapping setting which can be basically summed up In a few words.

After MC wakes up the kind where trashy an despised guy becomes OP all of a sudden, the beuties start melting on the spot just from his presence wilingly lining up to join his harem.