The glow of her laptop screen was the last thing she saw, its pale light casting a soft reflection on her face. She'd been hunched over it for hours, her fingers rhythmically typing the occasional comment on fan forums, while her mind wandered over the latest chapter of The Cursed Emperor's Legacy. The suspense was killing her.
The image of her half-empty ramen bowl sat beside her, forgotten and cold, a perfect mirror of her own distracted state. She didn't even bother with her usual routine—eat, read, get lost in the world of the comic—and now, she was regretting it. The noodles had gone limp, the broth long since congealed into a sad, gelatinous mess, but that wasn't what held her attention. It was the cliffhanger.
Chapter 127 had just ended, and she was on the edge of her seat, eyes wide in shock as one of the characters, the stoic and brooding Emperor Theron, had been announced dead from a mysterious dark magic spell.
Of course, the damn thing ended right before the big reveal. Typical. It left her hanging, just when the plot was about to take off.
"Ugh, come on! What happens next?" she muttered under her breath, her gaze flicking back to the screen.
Her thumb hovered over the trackpad, ready to scroll, when an unfamiliar sensation began to tingle at the back of her mind. It wasn't like the usual tension of a cliffhanger.
It was… strange.
A sensation as if she was no longer in her body, like her very essence was being pulled away from the familiar comfort of her desk and her dimly lit room.
Before she could even register what was happening, everything around her went dark.
There was no sound, no warning. Just the cold, unnatural feeling of being consumed by nothingness.
Her eyes flew open—or at least, that's what it felt like. The space around her was disorienting, almost liquid, glowing with a strange ethereal light. She felt weightless, her limbs tangled as though she were floating in water, but no, it was something else. It was pure energy, bright and pulsing like a living thing, swirling around her, through her, and carrying her deeper into the abyss.
A voice, gentle and far-off, echoed in her mind.
Elara.
She tried to focus on it, but the voice was distant, unfamiliar, and it didn't feel like her own name.
'Elara?' she thought.
The word felt strange on her tongue, like something she should recognize but didn't.
And then, as suddenly as it started, everything snapped into place. The darkness cleared, replaced by a soft, blinding light.
Elara blinked rapidly, trying to adjust, but the world around her was nothing like the small room she'd just been in. It was vast—too vast—and warm.
The scent of lavender and something faintly metallic lingered in the air. She could feel fabric against her skin, silk, something soft and rich. Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, and the first thing she saw was a face.
A woman's face, hovering above her like some kind of dream.
"Welcome, my dear," the woman whispered.
Her voice was melodic, soft, like the rustling of wind through the trees. Her eyes were an impossibly deep shade of purple, and her hair shimmered like moonlight, cascading around her face in silken waves. She wore a gown that seemed to glow with an otherworldly light. Elara blinked again, still disoriented, trying to make sense of it all.
The woman smiled gently, her eyes filled with a strange kind of affection. "You've returned."
"Return?" Elara tried to sit up, but her body felt stiff, as though it wasn't quite hers. "Where—where am I? What's going on?"
The woman's expression softened with a quiet chuckle. "You're in your new home, Princess Elara." She paused, waiting for the name to sink in. "You are the firstborn of Emperor Theron and Empress Lyra of the Solarian Empire. You've been reborn into this world."
Elara's head spun. "Reborn?" she repeated, her mind racing.
Princess Elara?
The name felt foreign, like she was pretending to be someone else. This was insane—there had to be some mistake. She reached up to rub her temples, trying to make sense of the situation.
The woman laughed softly, as though she understood Elara's confusion. "You're adjusting to your new life, I see. It's normal. But you'll remember soon enough."
"I… I don't understand," Elara muttered, her voice shaky. "I was just reading a comic, The Cursed Emperor's Legacy. It's all… it's all fiction." She paused, realizing how strange that sounded. "This isn't real. You must have the wrong person."
The woman's eyes softened with a knowing gaze. "Ah, yes. The Cursed Emperor's Legacy... you were a reader, weren't you? It's not a coincidence, Elara. You've been chosen to take her place."
The woman's words hit her like a bucket of cold water.
No way.
This couldn't be happening. Her mind scrambled for answers, trying to cling to something she could recognize. The more she thought about it, the more everything felt familiar, like something she couldn't escape.
"Elara, you're the Princess now," the woman continued. "You were reborn as the beloved daughter of the Emperor. This is your life. Your destiny."
The word "destiny" echoed in her mind, and it sent a cold shiver down her spine. She'd read the comic for years—she knew the plot, the characters, the fate that awaited this world. She knew exactly how it ended, and it wasn't good.
The Empire was doomed.
Her father would die from a curse, and chaos would take over. She'd lose her status and fall into a life of misery.
She wasn't supposed to be here.
She was just a reader.
A fan.
This couldn't be real.
But as the woman's gentle smile faded into something more somber, Elara realized the truth.
She was in the world of The Cursed Emperor's Legacy, but not as a reader anymore.
The horror hit her all at once.
The exact moment she'd first read the comic—sinking into the world of emperors, scheming ministers, and doomed princesses—flashed through her mind.
The woman's voice shifted, cutting through Elara's spiraling thoughts.
"You are not the first to face this challenge, Elara. There are others who've walked the same path. The Empire has fallen before. But now, you have the chance to change it. The power is within you, Princess."
"Power?" Elara echoed, shaking her head. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do. I wasn't trained for this." She winced, thinking of her modern world.
No swords, no magic, no strange kingdoms. She was a girl who got too invested in fictional stories—she was never supposed to be in one.
"You will learn," the woman assured her, her voice calming. "And when you are ready, you will save your father. You will save the Empire."
"Save my father?" Elara repeated, her chest tightening.
She remembered the heartbreak she felt reading his final moments in the comic. Now, here she was, in his world, in his family, with a chance to change his fate—but did she even want that responsibility?
"Why me?" Elara whispered, the weight of her new reality crashing down on her. "Why did you choose me? I'm not the hero of this story."
"You are," the woman insisted softly, a gentle hand resting on her shoulder. "You are the one with the power to rewrite history. To rewrite your own fate."
Elara shook her head, incredulous. "I'm just some random girl who used to read about this world. I can't rewrite anything. I don't even know how this world works!" She looked around at the luxurious surroundings—what appeared to be a grand palace with towering marble columns, rich tapestries hanging from the walls, and chandeliers that sparkled like stars. "I'm completely out of my depth here."
The woman's smile returned, though it was tinged with a quiet sadness. "You will learn quickly, Princess. The world of The Cursed Emperor's Legacy is your world now. All its dangers, its magic, its politics. You must understand them if you are to save it."
Elara stood, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. As her hands brushed against the silk of her gown, she wondered just how much of her identity had been taken from her in this bizarre twist of fate. Was she still herself, or was she truly the princess of this strange new world?
"I guess we'll find out," she muttered, staring into the mirror that appeared before her, her reflection now wearing a tiara and a gown. But the face staring back at her still felt like a stranger's.
With a deep breath, she turned back to face the woman.
"Let's just hope I don't make things worse."