(Okay, don’t panic. Deep breath. Just a game, remember?)
The screen hovered in front of me, humming softly as I skimmed my character sheet.
Confirmed CHARACTER Now Entering World:
as
–
NAME: Prince Samuel “7th in line for the throne”
(Well that sounds actually kind of cool)
GENDER: Male
(Good. I did not want to be some chick)
RACE: Man/Elf
(So I’m mixed race? That’s going to be... odd?)
AGE: 12
(Well shit. I’m going to be a kid again. Not good at all. Stupid randomizer.)
APPEARANCE:
Hair: Blond, longish, silky, styled like a prince you are.
Face: Smooth, cute, will be seen as a hanamō boy who makes people smile and feel jealous of your looks.
(That sounds just great. I’m one of those spoiled little pretty boys — like the kind who used to beat me up in middle school.)
ADVANCED APPEARANCE:
Pointy elf ears — brings wanted and unwanted attention.
Skinny but muscled enough to use a bow and daggers.
Small for your age. Fair pale skin from your elf blood.
(God, I’m sounding too perfect. Nothing like the real me.)
CLASS: Hunter, Rogue, Close Quarters Magic
(Wait, I thought you could only pick one class. Did I glitch something?)
PROFILE: A bastard prince. Seventh in line. Live in the castle, not expected to rule. Your father accepted you, even though you were born of an elf mother from a foreign realm.
(Okay, now it’s sounding like one of those edgy anime backstories. Great.)
SPECIALTIES:
Bastard
Small
Hated by half your brothers
Father’s pet “adventurer”
(This is going to be such a drama-fest. I wanted to join the Thieves Guild, not get dragged into royal family beef.)
ITEMS:
Dagger of Enhanced Pull: +130 pushback on hit, cannot pierce armor.
Bow of Might: Explodes on hit, 4x damage.
Silk Shirt & Trousers: Comfy, enchanted for warmth and cleanliness.
(Okay… weapons sound cool. But what’s with the bedtime clothes? Did I spawn as some pampered pillow prince?)
START IN: Epic City, palace bedroom, 5th floor. Asleep in double king-size bed.
(Well this is going to be one hell of a prologue.)
The screen vanished, and then everything went black.
No sound. No weight. No heartbeat.
And then—
BOOM — sensation crashed into me all at once.
I gasped. Not virtually. Actually.
(What the hell...?)
I could feel the sheets under me — soft, cool, thick like real silk. The air carried a scent I couldn’t name, something like lavender and woodsmoke. The bed beneath me shifted slightly as I moved.
(Oh god, this feels real.)
I opened my eyes.
Stone ceiling. Carved beams. Tapestries fluttering in a breeze I could feel on my cheek.
I tried to lift my hand — saw a small, pale arm with elegant fingers rise up. My fingers. But not mine. Smooth, unscarred. Child-sized.
(Okay. Okay. This is Samuel. This is me now. Just a game. It’s just a—)
BANG!
A fist pounded against the door. A deep voice, muffled but clear:
“Prince Samuel? Time to rise, Your Grace. Your morning lessons await.”
(I don’t even know how to log out yet.)
Another bang.
“Prince Samuel! Are you up?”
I swallowed. My mouth moved — and out came a high, posh, British voice that wasn’t mine.
“Yes, I’m up!”
(That’s my voice? What the hell.)
The door creaked open, and in stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man in a green and gold uniform. Greying beard, stern expression. Definitely NPC — he moved just a little too smooth, too perfect. His eyes didn’t react to anything strange, just smiled politely.
“Good. Let’s get you dressed, my Prince. You have weapons training this morning.”
Weapons?
I sat up. The weight of my long hair shifted down my back. The sheets pooled around me like something out of a fairytale. The cold stone floor waited just beyond the edge of the mattress. I could hear bells chiming faintly through stained glass windows.
And somewhere behind my eyes… I felt it. The game. The truth.
This world might feel like reality, but it was still code. And I was just a player in a body not my own.
(Okay, Samuel. Let's see what kind of mess your life is.)
