I woke up.

  The first thing I felt was the weight pressing down on me. My limbs, heavy and sluggish, refused to cooperate as I tried to push myself up. The sensation of cool, rough linen against my skin was unfamiliar but somehow grounding.

  I blinked, opening my eyes to a ceiling I didn’t recognize—a smooth stone surface, intricately carved with arcane symbols. The shapes seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen them before.

  For a brief moment, I thought I might still be asleep, that this was some sort of bizarre dream. But then the wind. The faint, distant sound of it howling through a courtyard, the rustle of leaves, and the echo of voices carried through the thin walls of the room. It felt too real.

  Far too real.

  My breath caught in my throat as the weight of it hit me all at once. I wasn’t dreaming.

  I was awake.

  And I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t in the world I thought I was. I wasn’t staring at a screen anymore. I was in it.

  Panic surged through me, my mind racing in a dozen directions. How did this happen? Why am I here?

  I pushed myself up with a groan, my muscles stiff as if I had been lying down for too long. The stone floor was cold against my bare feet, and I instinctively reached for the familiar comfort of my coat. But as my hand brushed against the fabric, the unmistakable feel of worn leather and rough cloth reassured me. It was exactly like the outfit I had worn countless times in the game—just a little more tangible, a little more real.

  I rubbed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my thoughts. My reflection in the polished mirror across the room only added to my confusion. There, staring back at me, was a man in his mid-twenties—my face. It was mine, but not the one I remembered in my normal life. I looked exactly as I had in the game. The same deep red eyes, the same long, straight hair, and the same set of clothes: a worn leather jacket, weathered boots, and simple trousers.

  This wasn’t some avatar I could manipulate with a mouse click. This was real. Or at least, it felt real.

  I ran my hand through my hair and caught my breath. Regalia, the name floated to the surface of my mind, almost like a whisper. That was me. That was my character’s name in the game.

  The sellsword who had always been my in-game persona, the one I’d controlled from the safety of my couch, from the comfort of a world that was nothing more than a game. But now, here I was, standing in it, a part of it.

  A world I had controlled once, but had no control over now.

  I looked around the small room. The stone walls were adorned with tapestries depicting battles, myths, and legendary heroes—the kind of art you’d expect from a game designed to glorify its history.

  There was a simple wooden desk with a stack of old papers, a chair that looked worn from years of use, and an open window letting in the cool breeze. It all looked so familiar.

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  Too familiar.

  I had played this game, lived through this world countless times. I knew the kingdoms, the alliances, and the eventual betrayals. I knew the characters, their fates, and how the wars would unfold. But this… This was real now. No longer just pixels or code.

  A chill ran down my spine as I realized the full weight of my situation. How did I get here?

  I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was that I had woken up in a world that was both familiar and utterly alien.

  My heart raced as I tried to calm myself. Stay composed, I told myself. You know this world. You know how it works. You can’t panic.

  The memory of the game flooded my mind—Elysium Academy, where the future leaders of the continent would be trained. That was where I was now, I realized. The starting point for almost every character in the game, the place where they all came from. It was a small, modest location, but it played a crucial role in the grand scheme of things. Every student at Elysium Academy would one day be the ruler of a kingdom, the emperor of an empire, or a someone of great power that could change the fate of the world.

  And yet, as I stood there in the mirror, I realized I wasn’t a student. I wasn’t a character caught in the game’s script. I wasn’t even a side character, an NPC whose role was only to stand in the background, delivering quests or information. No, in this strange reality, I was a teacher. A sellsword-turned-instructor.

  I had no idea why I was here or how I ended up in this world, but one thing was certain: I wasn’t playing anymore. I was living in the story, and I had no idea how to escape.

  A sudden knock on the door broke my thoughts. My pulse quickened, and I instinctively reached for my weapon. Just like the game, my mercenary instincts kicked in. I was ready for combat, for anything. But then, I remembered. I wasn’t in the game. This wasn’t a mission. It was my life now.

  The door creaked open slowly, and a young woman stepped in. She was dressed in the typical uniform of the academy, a neat combination of cloth and leather, her short brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her bright blue eyes met mine with a sense of purpose.

  "Ah, you’re awake, Teacher Regalia," she said, her voice crisp, professional. "The academy would like to welcome you. They’ve been waiting for your arrival."

  My mind raced again. Teacher. Regalia. That’s who I was. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept. I wasn’t a student here. I wasn’t meant to learn from anyone. I was supposed to teach. But how could I teach when I barely understood this new reality?

  I nodded slowly, trying to keep my composure. "Thank you. I’ll be ready shortly."

  She gave me a respectful bow before leaving, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. I took another deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts.

  I had a lot to figure out.

  Elysium Academy. A place where the future leaders of the world were shaped. And here I was, an outsider with the knowledge of everything that was going to happen. I knew the stories, the characters, the wars that would ravage the world. I knew who would live and who would die.

  But now, I had to find my place in this world. What was I supposed to do?

  The only thing I was certain of was that I had to be careful. I couldn’t let anyone discover the truth. Not yet. I couldn’t let anyone know I was an outsider, a player from another world. If anyone discovered who I truly was, the entire game could unravel, and everything I knew could be lost.

  As I stood there, staring out the window at the academy grounds, I realized something else: I was no longer just an observer. I was a part of this world. And whatever happened next was in my hands.

  The game’s script, the fate of the characters, the wars that would tear the world apart—all of it was up to me now.

  But the question was: Could I change it? Could I prevent the tragedies I knew were coming? Or was I doomed to follow the path the game had already set for me?

  I didn’t know the answer yet. But I had time. And time, in this world, was both my enemy and my greatest ally.

  With one final glance at the mirror, I adjusted my coat and took a deep breath. It was time to begin. And it was time to decide just how far I was willing to go.

  To change the future—or to let it unfold as it always had.