Orion Ember was jolted awake by a violent, splitting headache.
It wasn't a dull ache; it felt as if someone were driving an electric drill into his temples and giving his brains a casual stir. Instinctively, he tried to reach up and clutch his head, but his arms felt like they were made of lead—heavy and utterly unresponsive.
"Orion, Master Peregrine is calling for your service."
An impatient female voice cut through the air, followed by a sharp clack—someone had tossed something onto his face.
The cold touch of metal slid down his cheek. Orion forced his eyes open, his vision blurry as he caught a glimmer of silver-white. It was a badge, engraved with crossed fleets and a sword, underlined by a line of text he knew all too well:
Celestial Military Academy · Third Fleet Reserve
Celestial Military Academy.
Third Fleet.
Orion's pupils contracted sharply.
Wait... isn't this the setting from "Starfall," the game I was designing right before I died?!
"Stop playing dead," the female voice grew more annoyed. "Master Peregrine just returned from the field exercise, and his Cinder Plague is flaring up again. A 'Defective' like you has pheromones that are just stable enough to act as a sedative. Get moving before I have to say it twice."
A black military boot slammed into his ribs. Orion let out a muffled groan as he rolled off the narrow cot.
His head struck the metal floor with a heavy thud. The impact actually helped clear his clouded consciousness, and a tidal wave of memories came rushing in—
The original owner of this body: Orion Ember, nineteen years old.
The illegitimate son of the Jordan family's Marshal. His mother was a Half-blood Commoner with no status who died shortly after his birth. His genetic optimization was incomplete—his silver hair was streaked with dull grey, and his eyes were a rare, pale grey-blue. In the eyes of the Jordan family, he was a "Defective."
Three months ago, with a single word from the Marshal's legitimate wife, this eyesore of a son was shoved into the Celestial Military Academy. On paper, he was a "study attendant"; in reality, he was a "gift" delivered to the Crown Prince of the Peregrine clan.
Peregrine Cinder.
The first heir to the Empire, eldest son of the head of the Five Great Families, and President of the Academy's Student Council. With silver hair and golden pupils, he was the flawless image of a Pureblood Noble.
He was also the first key NPC destined to die in The Falling Star Battle according to the main storyline of Starfall.
Orion—or rather, Jiang Jin—had spent his final living days designing that very battle. He remembered every data point: the war would break out on November 17, New Era 284. Which meant...
He looked up abruptly at the digital calendar on the wall.
August 22, New Era 284
Eighty-seven days.
There were only eighty-seven days left until Peregrine Cinder's death.
"What are you staring at?" The owner of the voice finally stepped out of the shadows. It was a girl in a logistics uniform, dark hair and brown eyes. Her name tag read: Lumen Sage · Junior, Logistics Department. "If you don't go now and Master Peregrine tears the dorm apart in a frenzy, can you afford the repairs?"
Orion pushed himself up from the floor, his legs still shaking. He looked down at his hands—pale, slender, with neatly trimmed nails. These were the hands of someone pampered, a stark contrast to his previous life's hands, which were slightly deformed from years of clacking away at a keyboard.
He had transmigrated.
He had actually transmigrated.
Worse, he had become one of the most pathetic cannon fodder characters in the game. In the original lore, the "Jordan family's bastard" didn't even have a name; the official setting book only had one sentence: "The Jordan bastard died during the Zerg invasion; no further records."
"I'll change my clothes," Orion said. His voice was lighter than he expected, carrying a hint of sleep-deprived raspiness.
Lumen Sage frowned but didn't push him further. She sized up this "Defective" for a moment, her gaze lingering on his grey-blue eyes. Her tone softened slightly. "Hurry. Master Peregrine is in a very bad state today. Just... be careful."
Orion caught the strange shift in her voice but didn't ask. He grabbed the uniform lying on the bed—silver-grey, no shoulder patches, the standard kit for an attendant—and pulled it on.
As he dressed, he quickly organized his situation.
In his past life, he was a twenty-eight-year-old lead designer who died of exhaustion after working seventy-two hours straight on the "Falling Star Battle" DLC. He knew every detail of this plot by heart.
Peregrine Cinder was one of the game's most popular NPCs. The official ending for the Prince was: "To cover the evacuation of civilians, he personally piloted the flagship to hold the rear, perishing along with the Zerg Hive Mother."
But Orion knew the truth.
Peregrine was already in a state of Cinder Plague madness before he died. Having lost his mind, the flagship commander had turned his cannons toward his own allied fleet. The "covering civilians" story was a lie fabricated by the Cinder family to hide the truth of their heir's loss of control.
In the final ten minutes of his life, the real Peregrine Cinder was an utter monster.
And now, that monster was right next door, waiting for him to "serve."