*~The Day Vinay Became Kel von Rosenfeld~*
The room was dark except for the pale glow of the monitor.
Vinay leaned back in his creaking chair, rubbing his tired eyes as the credits of *Destiny* rolled for the twentieth—no, twenty-first—time.
He had memorized every pixel of the ending scene.
Every line of dialogue.
Every tragic fate and every glorious victory.
And yet…
Every time the ending came, he felt it again—
that strange, hollow ache.
As if the world on the screen wasn't just a game.
As if it was waiting for him.
Tonight, something changed.
The final cutscene dissolved.
The screen flickered.
And then a message appeared—one he had never seen before.
The letters glowed with ancient authority, as if carved by gods.
> **"O Savior of Destiny…"**
> **"For saving this world twenty times, we honor your deeds and achievements."**
> **"As gratitude for your loyal support…"**
> **"We shall enhance your gaming experience."**
> **"Please enjoy your real-world gameplay, O Great One."**
Vinay blinked.
"…What? Another update?"
He snorted.
"Developers are getting weird."
He shut off the monitor and threw himself onto his bed.
Sleep came fast.
Too fast.
A cold sensation crawled over his skin—like frost sinking into bone.
His chest grew heavy, his limbs numb.
His eyelids fluttered violently.
Something was wrong.
His consciousness blurred—
like someone was pulling his soul through the eye of a needle.
When he forced his eyes open—
The world was no longer his.
---
A royal chamber surrounded him.
Old-fashioned. Enormous.
Walls carved with ancient crests.
Golden drapes billowed from windows taller than houses.
A chandelier of crystal moons hung overhead.
"This… isn't my room."
He pushed himself upright—
or tried to.
His legs buckled instantly.
His body felt like wet paper,
fragile, trembling, so weak he could barely stand.
"What the hell—?"
Using the bedpost for balance, he staggered toward a giant ornate mirror across the room.
Every step felt like walking through lead.
"No… no no no… If what I'm thinking is true—if this is what I think—"
He reached the mirror, clutching the frame.
And his breath vanished.
The reflection wasn't Vinay.
Long black hair.
Brown eyes.
Pale, almost translucent skin.
A frail, thin body barely strong enough to remain upright.
He knew this face.
Every *Destiny* player did.
"…No way."
Kel von Rosenfeld.
The weakest noble in the game.
The cursed child.
The joke of the Academy.
The NPC who dies early—
on schedule,
every time,
no exception.
Vinay—now Kel—sank to his knees.
"Why this body…? Why the worst one?!"
He wasn't just transmigrated.
He was thrown into a walking death flag.
Kel von Rosenfeld couldn't use aura.
Couldn't use mana.
Couldn't train.
His body collapsed after five minutes of exercise.
And worst of all—
**The Death Curse.**
The curse that killed him before the Academy arc ended.
"This is insane…
That message wasn't a game update.
They actually—
They actually sent me INTO the game?!"
He clutched his head, shaking.
"I'm doomed… I'm totally, absolutely screwed!"
His voice cracked.
Panic clawed at his throat.
Then—
*Click.*
The door opened.
A girl stepped inside, carrying a tray.
"Young master… are you awake?"
Kel froze.
Marine.
Kel's personal maid since childhood.
Black hair cascading down her back,
light-blue eyes soft with concern.
She was around his age.
"Y-Yes," Kel replied instantly, forcing calm.
"Just now."
Her gaze drifted to the mirror.
"You were staring at your reflection quite intensely, young master."
"I wasn't staring," Kel lied.
"I just… felt something odd on my face. Checking if something was there."
"You must take better care of your health," Marine said gently.
"Your body is not well."
"I… know."
He swallowed.
"I know."
She stepped closer.
"If you have freshened up, I'll bring your breakfast here."
"That's fine," he nodded quickly.
"Marine… before you go—how old am I again?"
She blinked.
Then slowly, her expression shifted to confusion.
"Young master… did you hurt your head? Have you forgotten your memories?"
Kel's heart hammered.
"No, nothing like that. I just… I just never celebrated my birthdays properly. I forgot."
Marine exhaled softly, relieved it wasn't something worse.
"You are currently twelve years old, young master."
Kel froze.
**Twelve.
Twelve.
TWELVE.**
He collapsed back onto the bed the moment Marine left.
"Twelve… Four years before the Academy arc starts…"
Four years before:
* bullying
* humiliation
* and his scripted death
But it was also four years before the heroes appear.
And four years to break the curse.
"I… I have time.
Just four years.
If I succeed, I can live freely.
If I fail—
I die."
His pale, fragile reflection stared back at him from across the room—
the cursed child who wasn't meant to live long enough to matter.
Kel closed his eyes.
"…Fine. If this is my life now…"
A slow breath.
"…Then I'll remake it myself."
---