Chapter 1: Transmigration

An alarm rings loudly next to my ear. “Ugh,” I wince as I sluggishly untangle my arms from below my heavy head. I haven’t slept on a desk since college, and now I remember why. Everything hurts. Immediately, I regret staying up late playing that damn game. Slowly rising from the hard surface, the alarm stops as I rub the sleep away from my eyes. I blink once, twice. Then I notice.

My things look wrong.

Cute pastels color the room, which is immaculately decorated with all sorts of girly things. The bed is made, a pink blanket carefully folded at its bottom. A purple rug covers half of the room, soft under my feet. The closet door is half open, and peeking at it reveals it’s full of trendy clothes and even trendier shoes.

Everything is wrong…

Despite this being every girl’s dream room, I feel my heart racing in my chest, threatening to jump from my body entirely. I try to stand up, but my legs don’t respond. I try again, rising just a few centimeters before slumping back into the chair unceremoniously.

…This is not my room.

This cannot be. My vision gets blurry, I can’t focus. I feel myself panicking, my breath quickening, my body shaking uncontrollably. Was I kidnapped? This isn't real! I need to go home! Tears threaten to burst from my eyes, and I feel as if I’m about to pass out, but that’s when my gaze lands on it.

A seemingly innocent plushie sits on top of the bed, between the pillows. It’s a pancake. Her pancake. I look around and I notice more of them, her things. Her pink beanie bag, her curiously translucent curtains. Her uniform. This… This is her room. Marina’s room.

What the- This can’t be! My mind races with thoughts of the impossible as I finally gather the strength to stand up. I make my way to the bed, and I give the stuffed pancake a hearty squeeze. Surely enough, it’s as soft as it looks. I pet its velvety surface, somberly confirming my suspicions: it feels real. I sit on the bed. Top shelf quality, plumper and better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. A soft breeze blows through an open window behind the bed. It feels cool on my skin, the feeling contrasting with the warm rays of sunshine that filter through the open curtains.

“If this is a joke, it isn’t funny!” I say out loud, hoping that whoever brought me here is listening. It must be a friend, right? Is it Mona? She knows I like SCA, so she brought me to an apartment that she decorated to look like Marina’s, right? She always wanted to have a girls' night…

As I rack my brain for answers, I notice something on the desk, glowing unnaturally. It looks like a notebook. Its golden glow is equal parts unnerving and beautiful, quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I try to approach it cautiously, but the allure of the notebook is irresistible, and I can’t help but reach for it. Nothing seems to happen when I pick it up, so I open it. Neat handwriting covers the entire first page; at first glance, it looks like a diary entry.

“To whomever takes my place,

First of all, thank you. I’m sorry that you have to take my place like this, but there was no other way. You must be confused, scared… I understand, and again, I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there to walk you through this, but I can’t. Instead, I’m leaving you this notebook so you hopefully understand your situation a bit more after reading it.

I have lived a good life in Silver City. I’ve lived comfortably, achieved a level of success that I thought would make me happy, and I was earnestly looking forward to my future. But somehow, one day, I was shown a vision… A vision of all possible paths my life could take. When I saw those futures, I… I instinctively rejected them. I saw it all: I saw myself walking paths where all that matters is them. The men. Suddenly, my achievements and my… my sense of self didn’t matter. All that mattered in those futures was how “happy” I would be if I just chose someone to save me from my problems, and how utterly miserable my life would be if I didn’t. I don’t want a future where I lose control of my life, where I depend on someone else to lead me to a good or bad ending. Why can’t I be the one to save myself? Why couldn’t I find Elliot despite my best efforts? And also, why them? Why should I choose between men who only see me as a helpless girl to save? They seem to be good people, with good intentions, but… We all know the path to hell is paved with those.

I saw that there was nothing I could do to change my fate, and right as I was about to lose it, that’s when they spoke to me. The powers that be decided that they pitied me. They would give me one chance to leave this unjust world, to send me to another in which I can forge my own path, but such a deal would not come without a price. I couldn’t just leave this world; someone else had to take my place. ‘The wheel must keep turning’, they said. And so, you find yourself here. I regret putting you in this position, I really do. But I don’t regret leaving, I know I don’t deserve losing myself to the disease that is “love”. Good luck, friend. I hope you succeed where I was doomed to fail.

Marina

P.S. Do not look for me, I won’t come back, no matter what!”

…

What the-

The notebook slips from my grasp, falling on the desk as I try to process what I just read. Marina, sweet Marina, protagonist of the game I love to hate, she… She threw me to the dogs?! She used me as a replacement to escape her fate? And she wrote me a goodbye letter on a glowing notebook?

This can’t be happening… This isn’t real… If this is a dream, please just let me wake up…

I fall to my knees and close my eyes shut, hoping that when I open them, I come to my senses and find myself in my own room, away from this madness. But no such luck. My eyes only register Marina’s room when I open them again, but this time, there’s something different. This time, my gaze lands on a full-length mirror next to the desk, and everything comes crashing down. I can’t deny reality anymore.

Gorgeous blue eyes peer back at me from the mirror. Silky, straight black hair frames a youthful, model-like face, and attached to it, a slim yet curvy body with enviable proportions kneels on the floor. The body is dressed in simple yet cute white pajamas. My fingers trace the curve of the body’s cheek. I stand up and walk to the mirror, as if to confirm what I already know to be true.

This body isn’t mine.

This body belongs to Marina.

I couldn’t look more unlike myself if I tried.

Immediately, I feel my body shake. I’m pissed that I, of all people, fell victim to the massive cliche of transmigration stories. What are the odds that a self-proclaimed hater of this damn game gets transported into it?! Tears burst from my eyes, anger and sadness equally overcoming me. Marina felt trapped? She wanted to escape? What about ME!? What about MY family, MY friends, MY life?! Her selfishness got me into this problem, and yet, despite all my anger, I can’t bring myself to fully hate her. I understand why she left. She saw the same things I did and came to the same conclusion: This world makes no sense. It wouldn’t treat her like a human with desires, only as a doll for the love interests to play with, to make themselves feel better. I never liked how she acted so blandly, as the helpless maiden who always needed saving. She was supposed to be a strong officer! At least strong enough to subdue powerful augmented humans. So she had had enough.

And so I find myself here, in her place, in her body, with the weight of her choices looming over me.

“Marina?” I say as I look around the room. There’s no reply. But I know better than anyone, she’s not here, not anymore. She’s gone. The one currently inhabiting her body is none other than me.