Arcane Academy: The Mob’s Rebellion

The last thing Aizen remembered was the flickering glow of his laptop screen, the clatter of his keyboard as he rage-quit Arcane Academy: Chronicles of the Eclipse, and the sharp sting of his coffee mug shattering on the floor. Then—nothing. A void, cold and infinite. When his senses returned, he was no longer in his cramped apartment but standing in a grand hall that looked ripped straight from the game's opening cinematic.

Marble floors gleamed under the light of floating chandeliers forged from crystallized mana. Stained glass windows depicted heroes slaying dragons, their colors shifting like living auroras. Students in tailored uniforms milled around, their laughter and chatter echoing under vaulted ceilings. Aizen's hands flew to his face, his body—younger, leaner, clad in a black-and-gold academy blazer. Panic clawed at his throat.

"Transmigration confirmed," a monotone voice chimed in his mind. "Welcome, User Aizen, to the world of Arcane Academy. Primary objective: Survive the story arc. Secondary objective: Alter your fate as a mob character. Warning: Character death in this world results in permanent termination."

"Termination? Mob character? What the hell is this?!" Aizen hissed under his breath, earning a few odd glances from passing students.

He'd played Arcane Academy obsessively, a third-rate RPG novel adaptation with a cult following. The plot revolved around a hero named Kael Veyliss, the golden boy destined to master the Eclipse Arcanum and save the world from an ancient calamity. Alongside him were the heroine, Elara Veyliss (his saintly twin sister), the villainess Seraphina Drakthar (a ruthless noble hellbent on claiming the Eclipse for herself), and a mysterious fourth lead—Lira, a girl who'd transmigrated into the novel from another story. Aizen had always found the meta-layers annoyingly convoluted. Now, he was trapped in them.

Worse, he wasn't Kael, Elara, or even a named antagonist. He was Aizen Greythorn, a throwaway NPC mentioned in the game's codex as "Student #42" who died halfway through the first arc to motivate the hero. A sacrificial lamb. A footnote.

"Typical," Aizen muttered, his lips twisting into a cynical smirk. "I get isekai'd, and I'm still the background decoration."

The Villainess's Gaze

The academy's orientation ceremony was a spectacle of arrogance. Professors droned on about legacy and honor while nobles preened in their velvet-lined robes. Aizen slouched in the back row of the auditorium, his mind racing. If this world followed the game's rules, his death was scripted for the "Blood Moon Festival" in three months—a tragic casualty of Seraphina's first assassination attempt on Kael.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" A low, velvety voice cut through his thoughts.

Aizen turned. A girl sat beside him, her posture regal, her uniform immaculate. Crimson hair cascaded over her shoulders like spilled wine, and her amber eyes glinted with predatory amusement. Seraphina Drakthar. The villainess. In the game, her beauty was matched only by her cruelty, a noble prodigy who wielded fire magic like a birthright.

"The way these fools grovel for scraps of power," she continued, nodding toward Kael, who stood at the podium giving a speech about "unity." "The Veyliss family preaches equality, yet their precious heir was born with a Silver Rune. Hypocrisy masquerading as virtue."

Aizen raised an eyebrow. In the game, Seraphina's disdain for Kael was well-documented, but this felt… personal. Her fingers drummed against her thigh, a tell he recognized from countless playthroughs—a sign of restless ambition.

"And what do you want, Lady Drakthar?" Aizen asked, feigning nonchalance. "To burn the hypocrisy down?"

She smirked. "To reshape it. The strong deserve to rule. The rest?" Her gaze flickered to him, cold and evaluating. "They exist to be used."

A chill ran down his spine. This wasn't the scripted dialogue he remembered. Seraphina's character had depth, but her ruthlessness was always tempered by the game's PG-13 rating. Here, her aura was visceral, suffocating.

Before he could reply, a chime echoed through the hall.

"New Quest: Survive Seraphina's Interest."

"Reward: 50 Arcane Points. Failure: Immediate character death."

Aizen's stomach dropped.

The Heroine's Light

Lunch hour found Aizen skulking in the academy gardens, a labyrinth of enchanted hedges and shimmering fountains. He needed to strategize. The "system" in his head functioned like a game menu—stats, skills, inventory—but his attributes were pitiful.

Name: Aizen Greythorn

Class: Arcane Apprentice (Fire Affinity)

Level: 1

Rune: None (Mortal)

Skills: Basic Pyrokinesis (Novice)

"Useless," he snorted. In Arcane Academy, power was determined by one's Rune—a mark bestowed by the gods. Kael had a Silver Rune, Seraphina a Crimson, Elara a Gold. Aizen had… zilch. A mortal in a world of demigods.

"Excuse me," a soft voice interrupted. "Are you lost?"

Aizen turned. A girl stood beneath a blooming sakura tree, her silver hair catching the sunlight like spun starlight. Elara Veyliss. The heroine. Her Gold Rune glowed faintly at her collarbone, radiating warmth. In the game, she was the moral compass, a healer who believed in everyone's potential.

"I'm fine," Aizen said curtly, wary of triggering another death flag.

Elara tilted her head. "You're Aizen, right? From the orientation. You seemed… upset earlier."

He blinked. The heroine wasn't supposed to notice mobs. "Just processing the whole 'magic school' thing."

She laughed, a sound like wind chimes. "It's overwhelming, isn't it? But you'll find your place here. Everyone does."

"Quest Updated: Gain Elara's Trust."

"Reward: Unlock 'Empathy' Skill. Failure: Reduced plot armor."

Aizen grimaced. Plot armor? I'm a mob—I don't have any!

The Transmigrator's Secret

By dusk, Aizen's headache had morphed into a full-blown migraine. He'd dodged Seraphina's veiled threats, endured Elara's optimism, and nearly been trampled by a stampede of first-years racing to the dining hall. Now, he slumped in the library, surrounded by grimoires he couldn't read.

"You're doing it wrong," a voice chirped.

A girl hopped onto the table, her boots knocking over a stack of books. She wore her uniform sloppily—sleeves rolled up, tie askew—and her neon-blue hair clashed violently with the library's mahogany tones. Lira. The fourth lead. In the game, she was a wildcard, a transmigrator from a different novel who'd inserted herself into this one.

"The runic syntax here is outdated," she said, plucking the book from his hands. "You want Modern Arcane Theory, not this relic."

Aizen stared. "You're… Lira?"

She grinned. "Guilty. And you're the guy who's not supposed to be here."

His blood froze. "What?"

"Relax, newbie. Your secret's safe with me." She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "I've been here two years. Got isekai'd into my favorite romance novel, then poof—ended up in this dumpster fire. Now, I'm stuck playing along until I find a way home."

Aizen's mind reeled. "You know about the game? The plot?"

"Duh. But it's not a game anymore. It's real. And it's broken." Her playful demeanor faded. "Characters acting out of role. Quests glitching. The system's crumbling. Whatever you're here to do—fix it, break it, whatever—be careful. Seraphina's not the only one with secrets."

"Quest Alert: Uncover the World's Anomalies."

"Reward: ??? Failure: ???"

Lira hopped down. "Oh, and Aizen?" She winked. "Don't die. It'd be boring without you."

The Spark of Defiance

That night, Aizen lay awake in his dorm, staring at the canopy above his bed. The system's interface hovered in his vision, taunting him with its cold logic. He was underpowered, outnumbered, and trapped in a story that wanted him dead.

But Aizen had never been one to play by the rules.

"Fine," he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "If I'm stuck here, I'll tear up the damn script. Hero? Villain? I'll be whatever I need to be."

He opened his status screen, hovering over the "Arcane Points" he'd earned that day. Seraphina's quest had granted him 50. The Empathy skill from Elara added another 30.

"Purchase Skill: Rune Mimicry (Basic). Cost: 80 Points."

Confirm?

Aizen clicked yes.

Pain seared through his chest as a jagged black mark materialized over his heart—a fake Rune, a cheat skill. It wouldn't match the trueborn nobles' power, but it was a start.

Outside his window, the Blood Moon hung low, painting the academy in crimson. Somewhere in the shadows, Seraphina plotted, Elara dreamed, and Lira laughed.

Aizen's story was no longer theirs to control.

Chapter 1 End.