Darkness. A vast, endless void.
That was the last thing he remembered before waking up to an unfamiliar sensation—a body that wasn't his own.
"Wh—What the hell?"
The voice that escaped his lips was undeniably feminine. Soft, silky, and brimming with an alluring charm. His eyes widened, and instinctively, he clutched his chest. What he felt sent his brain into overdrive.
Boobs.
Not just any boobs—his own boobs.
A rush of conflicting emotions surged through him: confusion, excitement, and a hint of absolute panic. He shot up, only to find himself surrounded by towering trees, their golden leaves swaying in the breeze. The sunlight filtering through the branches illuminated a crystal-clear lake nearby, reflecting his—her—new form.
She had long, silvery-white hair that cascaded down her back like a shimmering waterfall. Her violet eyes gleamed with an unnatural sharpness, framed by delicate yet striking facial features. Her figure was both athletic and sinful, with curves that could bring nations to their knees. Clad in a snug-fitting white and black academy uniform that hugged her very generous proportions, she looked like a goddess of temptation given flesh.
And then it hit her. The game.
"This… This is 'Ethereal Academy: Woven Fates'…"
She staggered back, gripping her head as memories flooded in. This wasn't just a dream or some bizarre hallucination. She had transmigrated into her own custom character—Sylvaine "Sylvie" Ardent, the swordsman genius and extreme pervert she had meticulously crafted in her favorite fantasy yuri academy game.
It was a game where a nameless protagonist, surrounded by powerful and beautiful heroines, fought against fate, unraveling the secrets of the world. But now, she was that character—except instead of being a cool-headed master swordsman, her perverse nature was at maximum intensity.
Sylvie shuddered, half in fear, half in excitement.
"Oh, hell yes."
Her moment of self-appreciation was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Her heightened instincts kicked in immediately. Years of playing this game told her exactly what this meant.
Someone was coming. And she was not supposed to be outside the academy grounds before the entrance exam.
"Crap—time to move!"
She darted through the trees, her incredible agility already making itself known. Dodging branches and leaping over fallen logs, she moved with an instinctual grace that felt both foreign and familiar. The thrill of being inside the game world sent shivers down her spine. Every breath, every movement—it all felt real.
She didn't have time to admire it for long, though.
As she approached the academy gates, her memories filled in the blanks. The entrance exam—a series of tests meant to gauge one's talent and determine their ranking within the academy—was happening today. And as fate would have it, this was the moment where she would meet one of the main heroines.
Her first target.
Or rather, her first victim.
The grand gates of Ethereal Academy stood tall before her, intricately designed with glowing runes that pulsed with magic. Beyond them, a vast campus stretched out—towering spires, marble courtyards, and enchanted training grounds as far as the eye could see.
And standing at the entrance, inspecting the new arrivals with a sharp, disciplined gaze, was her.
Rosaline von Edelweiss.
A towering beauty with crimson hair tied into a high ponytail and piercing golden eyes. Clad in a white and navy military-style academy uniform, she carried herself with the air of a noble knight. A greatsword rested on her back, exuding an aura of sheer lethality.
Sylvie nearly drooled. She was just as stunning in person as she was in the game.
Unfortunately, she was also unreasonably strict, and Sylvie was about to give her the worst first impression possible.
"HALT!" Rosaline barked, stepping forward. "State your name and reason for approaching the academy from outside the designated entrance."
Sylvie, still mildly dazed by Rosaline's thighs of steel, snapped back to attention.
"Ah, right! My name is Sylvaine Ardent. I got lost while—"
She tripped. Face-first.
Directly into Rosaline's chest.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Rosaline's body stiffened as Sylvie's face was practically buried between two glorious peaks of justice. The heat from her body, the subtle scent of roses and steel—it was heavenly.
Sylvie would have been fine if she had just apologized. But her instincts betrayed her.
Her hands moved on their own.
A squeeze.
A firm, appreciative, completely suicidal squeeze.
Rosaline's brain blue-screened. The surrounding students gasped. Some whispered. Others took notes.
Then, reality resumed.
BOOM.
Sylvie found herself soaring through the sky as Rosaline's fist connected with her stomach, sending her flying like a meteor toward the training grounds.
Her last thought before crashing through a tree?
Totally worth it.