The ceremony had barely ended before the silence shattered like glass.
As if a switch had flipped, students surged from their seats, eyes wide with excitement, curiosity, and more than a little envy. Dozens of them beelined toward the stage, eager to speak with the famed First Class—the future heirs of kingdoms, empires, and legends.
Questions flew like arrows.
"Prince Elias, it's an honor!"
"Saintess Selene, may I walk with you?"
"Commander Rowan, would you sign my grimoire?"
"Liora—Lady Astrevane, your presence was truly chilling… I mean that as a compliment!"
But amidst the swirl of social gravity and gravitational pull toward the elite, one name lingered awkwardly in the air.
"Wait—where's Caelum Raye?"
"He was right there on stage… wasn't he?"
"Did he sneak off?"
"Maybe he was an illusion."
"Who is that guy? I've never heard of House Raye."
"Maybe he cheated. Yeah, some commoner fluke with a memory potion."
And just like that, in the minds of dozens—whispers of doubt began weaving their roots.
But Caelum didn't hear any of it.
He was already gone.
—-
A cool wind blew through the secluded eastern gardens of Rosaria Academy, rustling the petals of dreamlilies and moonroses—flora that shimmered faintly under the sun thanks to their magical properties. A quiet pond reflected the sky like a portal to another realm. Benches of carved stone and rune-inscribed trellises wrapped in glowing ivy framed the area, as if hiding it from the rest of the campus.
Caelum sat beneath a blossom tree with petals like falling crystal, his coat unbuttoned, one leg crossed over the other. He stared at nothing in particular.
"First rule of not becoming a predictable player," he mused aloud, "is to vanish before you're pulled into the scene."
No fanfare. No attention. Let them speculate.
The rest of the First Class were now swarmed, being measured, catalogued, and cornered into character roles. Caelum had no intention of playing their game.
He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, eyes half-lidded.
So far, the game's setting felt mostly accurate to what he remembered—Rosaria: Fated Bloom had been an Otome dating sim that exploded in popularity thanks to its sweeping plot, beautiful character art, and complex branching narrative. While most players were drawn in for the romance, he—like always—had ignored that part in favor of studying how everything worked underneath.
He knew how these people thought.
He knew who would betray whom.
And he knew where the game's real power lay… not in love, but in leverage.
Still, the fact that he'd somehow scored the top rank on the entrance evaluations? That wasn't supposed to happen. In the game's canon, Caelum Raye didn't even appear in the main story. He was a background asset in one obscure route, mentioned only in a side note as a library aide with mysterious origins.
So how…?
Caelum exhaled and tilted his head to the sky.
And just like that, the memory rose—uninvited but vivid.
.
.
.
[Two Weeks Ago.]
He was sitting at his desk.
A cup of cold coffee. A half-eaten bag of chips. Dim monitor light painting his face.
The Rosaria: Fated Bloom fan wiki glowed on-screen. He wasn't even playing the game anymore—he'd already finished all the routes months ago. Now he was studying what was beneath the routes: the hidden flags, background lore entries, discarded sprites, unused dialogue files from beta builds.
He didn't care about the love stories. He wanted to understand how everything moved. How the devs wrote the world. How they wove power, cause and effect, illusion and control.
To him, it was like dissecting a clock made of velvet.
Then the blue screen hit.
Not on his computer.
On everything.
Like a flashbulb going off behind his eyes—followed by nothing.
No sound. No pain. Just…
Darkness.
And when he opened his eyes, he was standing in a gilded hallway with stained glass windows showing scenes from Rosaria's lore—exactly as they appeared in the game.
He remembered looking at his reflection in a mirror.
A face not his own. Taller. Paler. Silver-gray eyes. Hair as black as ink and unnaturally silky.
Clothing, pristine and noble.
His inventory? Empty. His stats? Unknown.
His thoughts?
Only one:
"…You've got to be kidding me."
—
Caelum ran a hand through his hair, feeling the same silky strands. Still surreal.
"Transmigrated," he muttered. "Into a side character. In a romance sim. And not even one with good combat mechanics."
He clicked his tongue and pulled out a slip of parchment—his student schedule. The academy allowed all First Class students to choose their preferred elective track in the first week.
He already knew what most of the others would pick. Swordplay, elite dueling classes, divine studies, politics.
But he would go for something else.
He tapped his finger on the name of the course and smiled.
"Advanced Theoretical Magic & Forbidden Constructs."
Taught by Professor Cazriel Orin, one of the game's hidden bosses—an immortal being posing as a mortal, whose course only a few ever took due to its difficulty and hidden prerequisites. In fact, most routes never even acknowledged its existence. But Caelum had discovered it through data mining and cross-referencing cut content.
It wasn't a class for heroes. Or lovers.
It was a class for monsters.
Exactly what he needed.
Because while the world of Rosaria thrived on chosen ones, sacred bloodlines, and prophecy-fueled destinies… Caelum was going to become something entirely outside the script.
A veritable no one could predict.
He stood up, brushing petals from his coat.
The pieces were on the board now.
And he wasn't going to play chess.
He was going to flip the board entirely.