Here we go ~
The Screaming Starts Early
The morning sun poured through a large window in Freed Justine's private quarters, casting a serene glow over the rows of neatly organized books and rune inscribed journals. Everything was calm, tidy, and in perfect order.
Until the high pitched scream from far shattered it all.
"WHAT IN THE WORLD—?!"
Freed jolted upright in bed, except he wasn't in his room anymore.
He was on the floor. In an oversized t-shirt. And something was very, very wrong.
His hands were smaller. His hair was… shorter? No, it felt long but different. Lighter. Finer.
There was a mirror nearby. And what stared back at him was not his composed, emerald-eyed self.
It was Levy McGarden.
"No. No no no no—"
Freed clutched his head or rather, her head.
"This has to be a dream. An illusion. Maybe I inhaled too much magical dust—"
A distant voice rang out through the window: "LEVYYYY! I'M EATIN' THE LAST MUFFIN!"
Gajeel.
Freed froze. He peeked outside. Sure enough, the Iron Dragon Slayer was yelling into the street with a half-eaten muffin in one hand.
Freed ducked.
This wasn't a dream.
He'd woken up in Levy's body.
In Fairy Hills. Shit!
Across town, in a darker, rune-inscribed room at the edge of the guild's western wing, Levy McGarden sat bolt upright in bed. Her breath caught in her throat.
"This isn't my ceiling," she muttered.
She blinked. Looked down.
Flat chest. Broad shoulders. Pale green hair draped over one shoulder.
She scrambled out of bed, tripping over runic robes and dashed to the nearest mirror.
A scream burst out of her mouth the second she saw the reflection.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The deep baritone startled her. That's not my voice!
Her fingers trembled as they touched the rune tattoo glowing softly on her left arm.
"Oh no. Oh no no no—"
"WHAT IN THE WORLD—?!"
She turned and spotted a decorative plaque above the writing desk:
"Order is peace. Chaos is distraction." – F.J.
Levy groaned.
"I'm in Freed's body." Urgh
~ To be continued ~