Huh...? What the hell?
It was hard to describe what River was feeling currently. Something between shock and fear, maybe a little bit of hope.
After all, the man who had called himself the ’Final Boss’ had killed himself, and don’t get me wrong, River highly appreciated it...but why in the name of life would anyone do that?
Shaking off the gruesome scene, River tried to stand up, limbs shaking dangerously.
Mustering every ounce of strength in this new body, he pushed upwards, pressing his hand over his desk. But nothing happened.
His body didn’t lift, nor did his legs move. It was as if something was pressing down against him, vast and incomprehensible.
All around him, students were in similar positions. Some were still struggling to comprehend reality, their eyes wide with fear and bodies shaking.
The ones closest to the four students whom Snow had shot had their heads in their hands, silently crying.
Tears flowed as freely as the crimson filth staining him. There were almost 30 students in the damned classroom, yet most of them, without fail, wanted to cry. Some wanted to run, while others were stone-faced, their expressions still like ice.
River was stuck somewhere between the three. His mind was lagging behind the entire situation, not quite as scared as the others, but not entirely stone-faced either.
Added to that the fact that he was seeing thousands of images every second, he definitely wasn’t as affected by the situation as he normally would have been.
Staring at the perpetrator’s dead body, River could only think of a single thing. Why would anyone do something like this, and why was he a part of it?
Sure, he hadn’t exactly lived the life of a saint, but nothing deserving of this. And on that note, what exactly was happening to him?
Is it transmigration? Have I transmigrated into [Angel Battle]?
Alas, his attention was pulled towards a more pressing matter.
Slowly, like water leaking through dense sand, the pressure stomping down on him lessened until it vanished entirely.
Unfortunately, before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, a cold breeze swept through the room, chilling his bones.
It was as if some ancient ice giant had awoken, blowing a cold puff of air into the classroom. There were no open windows in the room, which made him glance at the ceiling, only to find a snowflake pattern imprinted into the azure material.
It was similar to the snowflakes from before, only much larger and glowing with a blinding white light. River raised his hand to his eyes in a useless attempt to protect them, but it was too late.
White spots fished in his eyes, blinding in their radiance.
The wind picked up again, howling wildly against the azure curtains, the silk flapping like a flag in a storm. River’s breath fogged like smoke, mixed with the frigid air.
Snow started drifting through the air, like pale fish darting through the azure depths of an ocean.
Oh, what is it now?
The entire phenomenon was weird. How the hell was it even snowing inside a confined room? But then again, he had supposedly transmigrated, and from the plethora of memories making way into his mind, River could make an accurate guess of where he was.
Who would have thought that his broken TV would have transported him to his favourite game? How did he know, one might ask?
Well, it was bloody simple. Memories were swimming through his mind while emotions related to said memories were flowing towards his heart and very soul.
River now knew the name of his body; he knew where he was and what he was doing.
So it really is that.
Transmigration was a concept River understood much about, but that was all it was supposed to be, a concept, nothing material.
And yet, now here he was, sitting in the body of the youngest son of a cursed family, slowly freezing to death.
His expression changed as a terrible grin slowly made way on his face. It was a grin of euphoria and maddening sorrow.
Joy at living in what he had once considered fiction, joy at the fact that he would be able to use magic! And anguish...over everything else. Not being able to clean his mother’s grave, not being able to condemn his stepfather to a living hell.
And to top it all off, River still didn’t know whether Perseus had traveled over to the world of [Angel Battle]—Elysia.
While he was quite sure that the boy who had screamed "TV" was actually Perseus, he would confirm it later. A simple question would be enough to know.
But Helix Abaddon...I truly pulled the lottery with the best and worst character.
Helix Abaddon, the youngest son of the Abaddon family, a pure troublemaker and fated to die in his early twenties. Alas, if that was all, River would have sighed in relief; after all, it was a much better fate than 90% of the characters in the world of Elysia.
Unfortunately, the families of two of the three main characters–Morgan and Alexander–were cursed by the Fallen Angels.
And on that note, members from all three of these families were supposed to be in the classroom, at least according to Helix’s memories.
Helix from the Abaddon family, Alexander from the Azrael family, and Willow from the Israfel family
The other two carried their own curses, but...
I, River...or rather Helix Abaddon, am afflicted with the Curse of Cassandra.
Cursed with knowledge of the future, yet having no one believe him, that was Helix’s burden. A burden now inherited by River.
Possessing the bloodline of not only Abaddon, the Angel of Destruction, but also Ezekiel, the Angel of Revelation, River’s new life was suddenly something he didn’t look forward to.
The frigid cold enveloping the room sharply increased, the temperature plummeting to the negatives.
"Now, my dear main characters, as much as I love you mourning my death, I am back!"
A voice echoed through the chamber, warm compared to the environment, yet all River felt was despair beyond anything he had known.