“What are you doing? Ow!”

*Thud!*

A light tap struck my head—so light it felt like my soul had jolted loose. The sensation was eerily familiar… my gaming laptop, the one I’d saved months of allowance to buy.

Half-asleep, I figured my roommate must’ve bumped the desk beside my bed. But my eyes refused to open.

Then my consciousness spun wildly, plummeting downward. A crushing sense of weightlessness seized me—terror clawed at my throat, breath vanishing.

When the dizziness finally eased, my head still throbbed. I gasped, disoriented.

What just happened?!

That tap wasn’t hard enough to cause this. Something was deeply wrong.

I slowly opened my eyes. The room was brightly lit.

Wait—no. That faint yellow glow… the flickering shadows on the ceiling…

Holy crap! Is it on fire?!

Did I forget to unplug my laptop and it exploded?!

No time to mourn gear. I tried to sit up and shout for my roommates—

—but my hand met no blanket. Instead, strange textures brushed my legs and torso.

Bewildered, I sat up and looked down.

Snow-white dress… and white thigh-high stockings patterned with faint golden crosses?!

Cross-dressing?! Me?! I’m a straight guy—how am I wearing this?!

Wait—these legs! Slender, smooth, flushed pink with healthy elasticity… when did *my* legs look like this?!

I stared, stunned. Then an itch tingled my cheeks. My bangs hung straight down, long enough to block my vision.

Trembling, I touched my forehead, my cheeks—and froze.

Hair?

Since when do I have long, flawless white hair?!

And my skin… impossibly soft, silky smooth. After years of rough, neglected skin from late nights? How?!

Heart hammering, I scanned every inch of myself. The silk dress clung taut. The skin beneath felt elastic, fair, unnervingly perfect. My breath hitched. Panic tightened my chest.

I looked up, frantic—and froze.

A noble’s chamber straight from a medieval Western tale. A roaring hearth fire cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. No wonder I saw flickers earlier.

How did I wake up here? Transformed into…

Did I… transmigrate?

Parchment sheets drifted beside me. At first, the script looked like gibberish. Then—suddenly—I understood.

*"Archangel, the elders of The Church grow displeased. Exercise caution at the front. Cease bestowing favors upon the Empire’s army and air corps, or you will be recalled prematurely."*

Archangel? Who’s that?

Confused, I grabbed the next sheet.

*"Archangel, junior clergy slander that you’ve lost the divine light’s protection. Though punished, such rumors persist—likely an organized scheme by the Abyss demons. Stay vigilant."*

Again—Archangel?

My brow furrowed. A cold dread crept in.

Archangel… Church elders… Abyss demons… front lines…

These weren’t random isekai tropes. This combo sent ice through my veins.

I scrambled for a mirror. Waking up as a girl was jarring—but if she was pretty, maybe manageable. Still… this identity felt dangerously significant.

There—a full-length mirror on an ornate wooden stand. I rushed over, heart pounding with dread and curiosity.

I took a breath… and looked.

Silky white hair cascaded nearly to her knees, loosely tied at the waist with a cross-ribbon. A neat 70-30 fringe framed a face of serene elegance. The lavish white gown and cross-patterned white pantyhose radiated noble grace. Slender brows, long lashes. Pale-blue eyes shimmering like deep water. A cute nose, soft pink lips. Baby-fat cheeks softening an aura of icy purity with innocent charm.

So… beautiful.

My mind went blank, stuck on that hollow word.

But awe vanished. Terror flooded in.

I *knew* this face. Not some vague memory—*real* familiarity.

My heart lurched. Legs trembled. The memory surged, undeniable.

Sylv… ia?

The heroine from that massive story mod for *Elder Scrolls*—the legit RPG I downloaded off a forum?!

No.

NO.

She was the one featured in *countless defeat CGs*—an utterly unspeakable, indescribable, monstrously evil entity in that mod!

Yamete!!!