Chapter 1:

Archer Dela Croix's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft, golden rays of morning spilling through the tall windows. His head throbbed, and his body felt heavy, as if he had just been in the most taxing workout of his life. He groaned and rubbed his temples, the events of the night before hazy in his mind. The last thing he could remember was slamming back a shot of tequila, laughing with his friends, and joking about how ridiculous the BL otome game they had dared him to play was. He had mocked the characters, the plotline, everything about it. It was so over-the-top, so cliched-he couldn't understand why anyone would take it seriously. But now, as he lay in a bed that felt far too luxurious for his usual standard, Archer found himself questioning everything.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, glancing around the room. The lavish dorm room looked more like a suite in a five-star hotel than any place he had ever stayed in. The walls were adorned with tapestries he couldn't quite place, and there were ornate wooden bookshelves lined with expensive-looking books. The large bed beneath him was covered in silk sheets, and an antique desk stood in the corner, cluttered with what appeared to be old maps and strange trinkets.

"What the hell..." Archer muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes again as if trying to clear the disorienting fog clouding his brain. The whole place smelled faintly of lavender, but there was an underlying note of something he couldn't quite place, something sweet but dark at the same time.

It took a moment for Archer to realize that something felt off, like he had just woken up in someone else's life. His confusion deepened as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, his feet hitting the cold, marble floor. He reached for his phone in his pocket, expecting to see a string of unread messages from his friends making fun of him for complaining about the game, but the device was gone. Instead, his hand brushed against something metallic on the desk-a small, shimmering key with intricate engravings.

Before he could investigate further, a bright, digital voice suddenly echoed inside his head. He jumped, eyes wide in alarm, but there was no one else in the room.

"Welcome, Archer Dela Croix, to Ethereal Academy. You are the new transfer student. Your goal here is simple: Unlock your true love."

The voice, too calm and almost robotic, sent a chill down his spine. Archer froze, his heart racing as the message continued.

"To begin your journey, you must participate in the trials designed to challenge your heart and soul. Only by doing so will you uncover the path that leads to your one true love. Proceed with caution. The choices you make are not merely your own, but part of a greater game."

For a long moment, Archer simply stood there, his mind scrambling to comprehend the bizarre statement. He rubbed his face again, hoping the surreal experience would fade, but the message persisted.

"Your task has already begun."

Archer's mind raced. Was this some kind of elaborate prank? It had to be. He had been mocked by his friends the night before for not taking the game seriously, and now this? Was it possible he'd passed out and was still dreaming? The idea was laughable-he had never been the type to dream in such vivid detail.

With an incredulous laugh, he muttered, "Okay, this is ridiculous. I must still be drunk."

He looked around the room again, half-expecting to see his friends pop out from behind the furniture, holding cameras. But the room remained still, and the eerie quiet gnawed at him. Something told him that this wasn't a dream.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room creaked open. Archer whirled around to face the newcomer, his heart skipping a beat. Standing in the doorway was a striking girl with long, silver-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Her expression was curious, but her gaze never wavered, as if she had been expecting him to be there all along.

"Ah, you're awake," she said, her voice melodic and smooth, as if each word was carefully chosen. "You must be Archer Dela Croix. I'm Amara Valmont. Welcome to Ethereal Academy."

Archer couldn't help but notice the subtle elegance in her posture, the way she moved with an air of confidence that suggested she was no stranger to power and influence. The name Valmont struck a chord in his mind, but he couldn't place where he had heard it before.

"Uh, thanks?" Archer replied, still bewildered. "But, uh... Amara, right? Where exactly am I?"

Amara's lips curved into a smile, but it was hard to tell if it was genuine or just polite. "You are at Ethereal Academy, of course. Haven't you received your briefing?" she asked, a playful glint in her eye.

"Briefing? What briefing?" Archer felt a sudden wave of panic.

Amara's smile deepened, and she stepped further into the room. "It's part of the process for new students. The academy works in mysterious ways. Some things take time to adjust to. But don't worry; you'll learn quickly. We all do."

Archer's mind was racing, but before he could say anything, Amara continued, "You're a transfer student, right? There's a lot to catch up on, but don't worry. I'll show you around. I'm Elior's sister-" She stopped herself, as if she realized something. "But, of course, you're new. So let's start with the basics."

"Elior?" Archer repeated, his confusion only growing. The name felt strangely familiar, but he couldn't remember why.

Amara nodded. "Elior Valmont. The heir to the Valmont family, and one of the most prominent students here. But I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough." Her tone was oddly knowing, and Archer wondered if she was aware of his thoughts before he even spoke them.

As she led him out of the room, Archer took in his surroundings, still grappling with the strange sensation that he was walking through a dream. The corridors of the academy were vast, lined with grand columns and sculptures that seemed to belong in a museum rather than a school. Everything felt too pristine, too polished, as if it had been designed to make him feel out of place.

Still, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something important was happening-something that was out of his control. The tutorial message had been crystal clear about one thing: the game had already begun, and Archer's choices would shape his destiny.

"Don't worry," Amara said, sensing his unease. "You'll get used to it. Soon, you'll see just how important your role here is."

And as she spoke those words, Archer couldn't help but feel the weight of the unknown bearing down on him, a burden that he hadn't asked for but that seemed inescapable. The game had started, and he didn't know how to play it.

To be continued...