Well this sucks, i have small Balls!

(Okay, don’t panic. Deep breath. Just a game, remember?) The screen hovered in front of me, humming softly as I skimmed my character sheet. Confirmed CHARACTER Now Entering World: as – NAME: Prince Samuel “7th in line for the throne” (Well that sounds actually kind of cool) GENDER: Male (Good. I did not want to be some chick) RACE: Man/Elf (So I’m mixed race? That’s going to be... odd?) AGE: 12 (Well shit. I’m going to be a kid again. Not good at all. Stupid randomizer.) APPEARANCE: Hair: Blond, longish, silky, styled like a prince you are. Face: Smooth, cute, will be seen as a cute boy who makes people smile and feel jealous of your looks. (That sounds just great. I’m one of those spoiled little pretty boys — like the kind who used to beat me up in middle school.) ADVANCED APPEARANCE: Pointy elf ears — brings wanted and unwanted attention. Skinny but muscled enough to use a bow and daggers. Small for your age. Fair pale skin from your elf blood. (God, I’m sounding too perfect. Nothing like the real me.) CLASS: Hunter, Rogue, Close Quarters Magic (Wait, I thought you could only pick one class. Did I glitch something?) PROFILE: A bastard prince. Seventh in line. Live in the castle, not expected to rule. Your father accepted you, even though you were born of an elf mother from a foreign realm. (Okay, now it’s sounding like one of those edgy anime backstories. Great.) SPECIALTIES: Bastard Small Hated by half your brothers Father’s pet “adventurer” (This is going to be such a drama-fest. I wanted to join the Thieves Guild, not get dragged into royal family beef.) ITEMS: Dagger of Enhanced Pull: +130 pushback on hit, cannot pierce armor. Bow of Might: Explodes on hit, 4x damage. Silk Shirt & Trousers: Comfy, enchanted for warmth and cleanliness. (Okay… weapons sound cool. But what’s with the bedtime clothes? Did I spawn as some pampered pillow prince?) START IN: Epic City, palace bedroom, 5th floor. Asleep in double king-size bed. (Well this is going to be one hell of a prologue.) The screen vanished, and then everything went black. No sound. No weight. No heartbeat. And then— BOOM — sensation crashed into me all at once. I gasped. Not virtually. Actually. (What the hell...?) I could feel the sheets under me — soft, cool, thick like real silk. The air carried a scent I couldn’t name, something like lavender and woodsmoke. The bed beneath me shifted slightly as I moved. (Oh god, this feels real.) I opened my eyes. Stone ceiling. Carved beams. Tapestries fluttering in a breeze I could feel on my cheek. I tried to lift my hand — saw a small, pale arm with elegant fingers rise up. My fingers. But not mine. Smooth, unscarred. Child-sized. (Okay. Okay. This is Samuel. This is me now. Just a game. It’s just a—) BANG! A fist pounded against the door. A deep voice, muffled but clear: “Prince Samuel? Time to rise, Your Grace. Your morning lessons await.” (I don’t even know how to log out yet.) Another bang. “Prince Samuel! Are you up?” I swallowed. My mouth moved — and out came a high, posh, British voice that wasn’t mine. “Yes, I’m up!” (That’s my voice? What the hell.) The door creaked open, and in stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man in a green and gold uniform. Greying beard, stern expression. Definitely NPC — he moved just a little too smooth, too perfect. His eyes didn’t react to anything strange, just smiled politely. “Good. Let’s get you dressed, my Prince. You have weapons training this morning.” Weapons? I sat up. The weight of my long hair shifted down my back. The sheets pooled around me like something out of a fairytale. The cold stone floor waited just beyond the edge of the mattress. I could hear bells chiming faintly through stained glass windows. And somewhere behind my eyes… I felt it. The game. The truth. This world might feel like reality, but it was still code. And I was just a player in a body not my own. (Okay, Samuel. Let's see what kind of mess your life is.)