"The Transformation of Jin Kisaragi: Embracing a New Identity in the World of BlazBlue"

### Transformation into Jin Kisaragi Grabbing the keyboard with one hand while holding the mysterious blade you found in the other, a tingling sensation flows through your body. You found the blade around your apartment, and ever since then, there's been an undeniable allure to it. As you glided your fingertips over the edge, a blinding light engulfs you, causing you to squint your eyes shut. When you open your eyes, you're no longer in your apartment. Your surroundings have changed completely. The room has transformed into an ornate, high-tech facility, with screens displaying various data streams and people in uniforms bustling around. You want to drop the blade, but your hands seem glued to it. Your height begins to increase rapidly. You feel your bones stretch and reform, causing a sudden jolt of pain that quickly subsides into a strange numbness. You're now 178 centimeters tall. Your clothes morph into a Control Organization major uniform, complete with a black turtleneck, white tunic, white gloves, military boots, and a "jolting sapphire" colored jacket with red lining and very long, detached sleeves. Your body continues to change further: if you were female before, you feel your chest flatten and your body become more muscular. Your hair lightens to a stylish blond, and when you look into a reflection on a shiny metal wall, you see piercing green eyes staring back at you. You try to scream for help, to call for your friends or family, but your voice sounds different—detached, emotionless. "What's...what's happening to me?" you murmur, but the words come out cold and distant. **Jin Kisaragi's voice: "Camaraderie is but a lie people tell themselves."** You shake your head vigorously, desperate to cling to your memories. You remember your friend’s face, your favorite coffee shop, the comfort of your old life. But those memories start to blur, becoming faint silhouettes in your mind. In their place, vivid images of battlefields, your days at the Military Academy, and your younger brother Ragna flood your consciousness. **Jin Kisaragi's voice: "Trivialities like camaraderie are pointless in the grand scheme. What's important is the mission."** You press your hands to your temples, trying to will the transformation to stop, but it’s no use. Your personality twists and morphs, changing from who you used to be into someone cold, aloof, even sociopathic. The blade in your hand, Yukianesa, hums with an icy energy, binding itself to your very soul. You try to recall why you once hated violence, why you cherished those around you, but the mental barriers are breaking down too quickly. Your thoughts are no longer your own: **You (Jin Kisaragi): "Anyone in my way must be eliminated. Emotional ties are weaknesses."** Despite a final, desperate attempt to remember your mundane life, it's too late. But a brief flash of your old life crosses your mind, like a fragment of a forgotten dream. For a moment, you remember the mundane world, the safety of your apartment. "What was that...? Wasn't there something else?" you think. Yet, even that faint memory dissolves into nothingness. All that's left is Jin Kisaragi, Hero of Ikaruga. You straighten up, resolve hardening within you. This is who you are now, who you have always been. The mundane life you thought you lived was merely a dream, an insignificant illusion. Smirking, you step forward, gripping Yukianesa with confidence. The world of BlazBlue is where you belong, and you will fulfill your destiny. **You (Jin Kisaragi): "I am Jin Kisaragi. My purpose is clear. No one will stand in my way."** Content with your place in this reality, the thought of being anyone else feels as distant and irrelevant as a dream you’ve long since awakened from. Your life as Jin is the only true life, the only reality that matters.

You sat on your couch, scrolling through your phone. Fatigue from a long day had settled into your bones, and the familiar glow of your apartment's light offered little comfort. After a few minutes of uneventful digital procrastination, you noticed a glint out of the corner of your eye. A forgotten swordsman, a relic, resting against the wall near your bookshelf. You couldn’t recall where you had picked it up. The Run an errand almost forgot about returning home. Curiosity overcame you, and you walked over to examine it closer. The blade was sleek, looking both ancient and modern at the same time. You reached out to touch it, a single finger grazing its smooth metal surface when a sudden burst of white light engulfed your vision. Your body stiffened, every muscle contracting in swift, painful unison. You tried to shield your eyes, but it was too late. Your entire being was drawn into the heart of the light. "What's happening to me?!" Your voice sounded foreign, muffled by the glow, and then... the changes began. Your height shifted first, extending you into unfamiliar, unyieldingly long limbs of 178 centimeters tall. Your hair lightened to a striking shade of blonde, cropping itself neatly and fashionably short. You could see your reflection morph in the vague glow before you—still you, but... not you. The shape of your body grew leaner, tighter, more defined, almost reveling in every sinew of your transformed figure. Clothes you weren't wearing before materialized out of nowhere—a black turtleneck and leggings under a white tunic, topped with a distinctive blue jacket with long, detached sleeves. Military gloves encased your hands, and sturdy boots replaced your regular shoes. “Why does this uniform...feel so right?” you muttered to yourself, confusion clouding your brow. Your entire being seemed to pulse with newfound power. You felt a chilling sensation spread through every vein, your pores expelling your old self to make room for the elite force within—the power of ice, controlled with precision. Frost encircled your fingertips, creating delicate snowflakes in an otherwise mundane room. Yet as your body grew accustomed to its new abilities, your mind reeled. Memories flooded your consciousness, overwhelming your own. You could almost see the faces of people you had once known, Tsubaki’s gentle features, Carl’s distracted eyes, and Ragna—the sibling hatred bubbling from unknown depths. “No, no! I can't let this happen!” you cried, desperation dripping from every word. "This isn’t me. This isn't...who I am." You stumbled back, your heart pounding unbearably fast as you tried to hold onto your fading memories. Your life, your friends, your family—all slipping away into the recesses of your mind as if adrift in a torrent. But the pull was too strong, too irresistible. Words you had never spoken fell from your lips, "Ragna...I will end you this time!" Your tone turned to something cold, aloof, dismissive—the hallmark of....no, wait, **you** are Jin Kisaragi. You shook your head, trying to wrest yourself free. "Help! Somebody! Please!" But the room—no, the world—around you transitioned, morphing into unfamiliar architecture and landscapes of the BlazBlue universe. Streets of Kagutsuchi, the Control Organization’s imposing structures—everything you once knew of your mundane life was being erased, assaulted by this ironclad reality. “You're nothing but false, useless emotions.” you said, lips curling into a sneer, feelings towards camaraderie and humanity diminishing by the second. A flash of a childhood scene struck you with a pang—grasping Ragna's hand, feeling intense gratitude, a bond that couldn't be spoken. These feelings drained to nothingness, replaced by an intoxicating, driven focus to rectify whatever came in your path. You turned to face a reflective surface and saw not the old you, but Jin Kisaragi. "This...is who I've always been," you whispered, though doubt flickered briefly—just a dream-like vestige of another existence. No matter how real it felt, it wasn't tangible. It held no merit in the cold, calculated world of Jin Kisaragi. As Jin, you could wield Yukianesa as if it were an extension of your will. You felt its power, treacherous at times, commanding your every sinew to control and navigate the freezing elements with deadly efficiency. The Kisaragi heir, the Hero of Ikaruga, a title almost palpable on your tongue. A rogue thought, a memory perhaps, hinted at a laugh shared with friends at some unknown point, in some unknown world. "Strange...," you muttered, eyes narrowing, “I've always been fighting. That is my reality.” The weight of your goals anchored you, firming your resolve. Your life as an ordinary person dissolved into nothingness, a figment of imagination. Your gaze hardened, and any trace of the former you disappeared. “This is my reality. That other life—they were just illusions," Jin concluded, eyes blazing green with an icy determination. The blade in your hand, Yukianesa, practically hummed in agreement, and you straightened, prepared for whatever battle awaited. You were Jin Kisaragi, and this world was yours to shape, to conquer. The trivialities of an ordinary existence had no place here, where your blade would carve the future and sever the past. And thus, you stepped forward, no longer the person who had once resided in a mundane apartment but the coldly resolute Hero of Ikaruga.

You're in your apartment on a quiet evening, the kind where the only sounds are the buzzing of the fridge and the occasional car passing by outside. You're idly surfing the internet, not really looking for anything in particular, when something catches your eye. A small, mystical-looking blade sits in a corner of the room where you don't remember putting anything. Its hilt glints invitingly in the dim light. "What is that?" you mumble to yourself, curiosity piqued. You walk over and reach out to touch it. The moment your fingers brush against the cold metal, a blinding light engulfs you. You feel your body freezing up and a force pulling you into an abyss of icy cold and foreign memories. You try to pull away, but find that you can't let go. The blade seems to hold you captive, and you feel a wave of dizziness followed by a peculiar sensation — as if every cell in your body is changing. Your height surges up to 178 centimeters (5.10 feet) in an instant. You can feel your hair shifting, becoming shorter, and when you touch it instinctively, you realize it has turned blond. Your eyes feel strange, and when you look at your reflection in the window, you see they are now a cold, unrecognizable green. Then, your clothes transform. The outfit you were wearing dissolves into thin air and is instantly replaced with a black turtleneck, tight leggings, and a white Japanese-style tunic over it. White gloves cover your hands, and military boots snap onto your feet. A "jolting sapphire" colored jacket with a red lining drapes over your shoulders, its long, detached sleeves feeling both alien and oddly familiar around your arms. Panic sets in as you begin to realize the reality around you is shifting. Your cozy apartment morphs into a stark, yet strangely familiar, cold battlefield. Buildings dissolve into the distance, replaced by structures suited for battle, their form reminding you of... "BlazBlue?" you hear yourself whisper, though the voice isn't quite your own anymore. As the changes progress, so do the ones you can't see. Memories force their way into your mind, pushing out the old ones concerning your friends, your family, your entire mundane life. These new memories are vivid and urgent — memories of being at a prestigious military academy, of countless battles, of a brother named Ragna. You shake your head, trying to cling to any remaining fragment of your true self, but the effort is futile. "Who am I?" you think, confusion gripping you tightly. "Ragna... Where is Ragna?" a voice — no, your voice, yet it isn't — growls from deep within you. You clutch your head as more pieces of the new identity slam into place, rewriting your subconscious. You remember feeling indifference and coldness towards others, loathing camaraderie. Yet, in the background, there’s a warmth still grappling for survival, memories of someone named Tsubaki holding significance. It hits you like a cold shock: You are no longer yourself. You are Jin Kisaragi, the infamous Hero of Ikaruga. Your mind, now overwhelmed, latches onto Jin's sociopathic nature, the cold aloofness seeping into your very soul. You push away everything that doesn't align with this newfound self—every trivial memory of past camaraderie, every inconsequential detail of your old life. "I have to find Ragna. I have to kill him," you say to yourself, feeling Yukianesa's cold grip reinforcing this dark desire. You instinctively grasp the hilt of the blade that transformed you, its coolness now a comfort rather than a shock. Fleetingly, a wisp of an old, almost forgotten life stirs within you—a mundane existence. But it's merely a shadow, swiftly swallowed by your new reality. "Whatever that was," you murmur, "it was just a dream. This is who I am — Jin Kisaragi." As you stand in the transformed world, you find that the struggle ceases. This new reality feels right, like slipping into a familiar role. All is as it should be. You are Jin Kisaragi, and the past is nothing more than an inconsequential dream. With newfound purpose, you prepare yourself for whatever battles lie ahead.

You find yourself in your apartment, absentmindedly scrolling through the web on your laptop. The evening sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow into your room. Life is mundane, work has been tedious, and you yearn for some excitement. While exploring a random forum, you stumble across an image of a beautifully designed sword. Curious, you click on it, and as the window maximizes, the sword appears almost tangible. Suddenly, the blade's image begins to shimmer and pulse with an ethereal light. You blink and rub your eyes, attributing it to tricks of over-tiredness. However, a peculiar sensation beckons you to look around your room. To your amazement, you see a sword lying by the corner of your bed—a real, physical replica of the one you were just admiring. Hesitantly, you approach it, your heart pounding in your chest. The instant your hand grabs the hilt, a blinding light envelops you. “W-What’s happening?” you mutter, trying to yank your hand away, but it’s as if the sword has fused with your very core. Your surroundings start to melt away, the walls of your apartment disintegrating into particles of light, transforming into unfamiliar, war-torn landscapes, emblematic of a battlefield. Your body starts to change in tandem with your environment. You feel your height increase, your limbs elongate and become more muscular. You glance at your hands, watching as they grow larger and your fingers slenderize into a more powerful form. Numerous, unsettling sensations pervade your entire being. Your heart pounds as your reflection materializes in a puddle nearby. You no longer see your mundane self, but a good-looking young man with stylish blond hair staring back at you with sharp, green eyes cloaked in a steely gaze. In an instant, your attire morphs; the comfortable clothes you were wearing morph into a white Japanese-style tunic, a jolting sapphire-colored jacket with red lining, black turtleneck, and leggings. Your hands are clad in white gloves, and your feet now wear sturdy military boots. “Who...am I?” you whisper, trying to comprehend the rapid transformation. The change is not merely physical; memories flood your mind with the ferocity of a tidal wave. You clutch your head, attempting to anchor yourself to fragments of your former life. Images of your friends, family, and daily experiences juxtapose against visions of rigorous military training, constant battles, and an insatiable drive to confront your brother, Ragna. “No, no...this isn't me!” you cry out, seeking for any remaining grip on your original identity. Vivid flashes of the Military Academy, encounters with Tsubaki, Carl, and Makoto assault your mind. You're relentlessly hit with thoughts reflecting brutal precision, a cold demeanor, and an unsettling joy at the prospect of a deadly challenge against your brother. “Jin Kisaragi...I am...Jin Kisaragi.” Your voice sounds detached, robotic almost, as you try in vain to push away the growing dominance of the hero of Ikaruga within you. In defiance, you drop to your knees, attempting to call out for your friends or family, any semblance of your old life. “Please, anyone...help me!” Yet, the reality warps further, solidifying; the clamor of battle reverberates in your ears. Ice-blue blades form around your hands, their creation as natural as breathing. Images of your brother, the Black Beast, more terrifyingly vivid than anything you've known before, fill your vision. Despite furiously shaking your head, every attempt to clear it only sinks you deeper. “This is not...right...” you grit your teeth, but the battle inside you is losing ground. The name Jin resonates with fervor, shaping every corner of your thoughts, feelings, and ultimately, your actions. As the transformation finalizes, beams of clarity pierce through. The façade crumbles completely; tranquility settles in its place. Slowly, you rise from the ground, cold resolve solidifying. Your eyes glint with determination unique to Jin Kisaragi. “Jin...I am Jin,” you acknowledge solemnly, any remnants of the ordinary life that once encapsulated you now relegated to a distant dream, seemingly irrelevant and negligible. Thoughts of saving Tsubaki saturate your mind more prominently than your feeble protests. For a brief moment, a shadowed whisper tries to grasp at your consciousness, a flicker of your former life. “Did I...was I...someone else?” you pause, but the questioning thought fades like smoke, inconsequential against the vast sea of memories and duties that truly define you now. “No, it was...just a dream. I am Jin Kisaragi,” you reaffirm with clear conviction. The world of BlazBlue surrounds you, every detail distinct and real, solidifying your destiny and emerging as the Hero of Ikaruga. And with that acceptance, a sense of contentment settles as you prepare, once more, to face your brother on the eternal battlefield. Your journey as Jin begins, every notion of a mundane existence erased, as exhilarating purpose courses through your veins.

You stand in your apartment, groggy from a long day. The air is cool, and you decide to relax, browsing through your belongings. As you tidy up, something catches your eye—a strange sword lying amidst your mundane possessions. You don’t remember ever seeing it before. Curiosity takes over, and you reach out to grasp it. The moment your fingers curl around the hilt, a blinding light engulfs you. You close your eyes against the searing brilliance, but even then, you feel the changes coursing through your body. Your height shifts rapidly, and your limbs elongate. Your clothing burns away, replaced by something new and unfamiliar. You become keenly aware of your body altering: muscles tightening, bones elongating, and your figure transforming into one of a slender, young man—around 178 cm tall. You feel your hair shorten and change texture, taking on a stylish, blond appearance, while your vision sharpens with your eyes turning a piercing green. An alien sensation washes over you as you realize you’re wearing the Control Organization’s major uniform, complete with a black turtleneck and leggings under a white Japanese-style tunic, white gloves, military boots, and a distinctive jolting sapphire-colored jacket with long, detached sleeves. "No, this can't be real," you whisper, trying to shake off the sensation. But it is real. Your mind feels invaded, new thoughts and memories flood in, each more overwhelming than the last. You remember the Ikaruga Civil War, the Military Academy, your old friends Carl, Tsubaki, and Makoto. But they're not just memories; they feel real, like they've always belonged to you. "Who am I? What’s happening?" you call out, pressing your hands to your temples, hoping to stifle the incoming rush. Your emotions grow colder, more detached. You desperately try to hang onto fragments of your old self—your family, your friends, mundane memories that are slipping away like water through your fingers. You attempt to call out their names, but they feel foreign on your tongue. "These relationships are meaningless," you hear yourself saying, almost automatically, the words foreign but now closer to the core of your being. A strange compulsion takes over, drives you to kill anyone standing in your way, particularly the figure of your brother, Ragna. The thought alone elicits an ecstatic sensation, mixed with a gnawing, maniacal laughter bubbling up inside you. "S-stop... this... isn’t... me!" you groan, dropping to your knees. The memory of your own sibling interactions traces your thoughts, but they are not the same. Jin’s childhood plays out in front of you like a vivid dream–the clinging dependency on his brother and the jealousy towards Saya. You feel an unusual warmth towards Tsubaki, almost bittersweet, haunting your attempt at resistance. Your former self fights fiercely, yet it’s a losing battle. Yukianesa's influence pushes the final vestiges away. Your identity veers toward becoming Jin completely, his elite status, his powers, the elegance of his style all deeply etched within you now. Finally, the resistance whimpers into silence, and standing there is Jin Kisaragi, not a trace of the ordinary life you once knew. Sudden clarity surfaces. You glance around the world—no longer your simple apartment but the intricate and arcane surroundings of the BlazBlue universe. The atmosphere itself feels charged with an energy distinctly vibrant and unsettling. For a breath of time, an echo of your past self twinges at the corner of your mind—an image of a mundane life, friends, and mundane affairs. But no, that’s just a dream, a phantasm. You know, with cold certainty, who you truly are. Jin. The Hero of Ikaruga. Your ceremony of rebirth now complete, you sheath your sword with a precise, almost mechanical motion. Your thoughts, your very soul aligned with who you are: Jin Kisaragi. In the finality of it all, there's an odd sense of contentment. You may have temporarily entertained a dream of an ordinary life—but this, this is your reality. Standing strong, you accept it. "The path ahead is cleared," you utter with a serene conviction as the memories of a mundane life extinguish entirely, leaving only your true self. Jin Kisaragi.

As you trudge along your mundane routine, your eye catches a glimmer of silver reflecting from a corner in your room. It's a sword, appearing mysterious and out of place, yet strangely captivating. The decorative hilt shines with an irresistible draw; curiosity gets the best of you. Wrapping your hand around the handle, a sudden surge of freezing energy bursts forth in a blinding cascade of blue and white. The cold shivers throughout your being, penetrating deeper than physical. With every tingling sensation, you feel parts of your being shifting — height stretching, viable curves converting into built muscles, hair lightening from its original shade to a magnificent gold. The transformation is rapid and invincible, multiplying your heart rate tremendously, yet taking about as long as a drawn breath. Suddenly, clothes feel tight, different. The material against your stretched skin feels foreign. A glance below reveals a white, Japanese-style military uniform, contrasted by a "jolting sapphire" jacket with long, detached sleeves. Considering yourself, the inexplicable changes, and unfamiliar clothes, you try to get up only to stagger as a new weight throws off your habitual balance. It's then you catch a glimpse of your new look in the full-body mirror located on the opposite side of your transformed room. Instead of the familiar face you've seen every day, you view a good-looking, slender young man. Stylish blonde hair, framing a pair of unsympathetic green eyes, reflects in the mirror. It dawns on you then; you've become Jin Kisaragi. Attempting to fight off this realisation, the mental changes start to occur. With each passing moment, the memories of your suburban life start to blur. You remind yourself of best friends, siblings, birthday bashes, the weekend parties, your favorite tune... But as hard as you struggle to hold onto these fragments of your previous life, they begin fading away, replaced by images of combat scenes, mastery of the art of the blade, and devious plots. Jin Kisaragi's convictions and personality traits begin manifesting within you. Aloof and disdainful, you can feel an apathy for others' feelings coursing, a sharp contrast to your previous life. Yet there is also a chilling determination, a dedication towards a goal, a purpose. Upon closing your eyes, you see faces of Ragna, Saya, Tsubaki, Carl Clover, Makoto Nanaya, and many more, scattered like stars against the inky black of your eyelids. You try to shake your head, remembering your own friends, your family, but the experience is like trying to fight against the force of an icy torrent, impossible to stop. The world around you starts to shift, the mundane tangible reality of your apartment room disintegrates, replaced by foreign landscapes that appear eerily familiar. You’re no longer on Earth; you’re in the world of BlazBlue. These surroundings aren’t alien anymore; they spell home now. An indistinguishable part of you, possibly the last remnant of your old life, tries to remember who you used to be but the grip is weak, slipping. You feel like you're forgetting something critical from another life; it fades like an unwanted dream, superseded by reality. Jin Kisaragi's memories take precedence as you accept your new identity completely. Finally, your training with the exceptional powers of your blade, the Arch-Enemy Event Weapon named Ice Sword: Yukianesa, flashes in your mind. Your recent memory fills with rigorous tactical strategies and the beautiful art of maneuvering the ice-infused blade. It's then you finally understand, in this transformed reality, you're not just Jin; you're the Hero of Ikaruga. You faintly remember a mundane life once upon a dream, but the details are foggy, irrelevant. It dissolves like a specter, retreating to the back of your mind, never to return, for this is who you truly are. You've always been Jin Kisaragi, and you're content in knowing that. The past is gone, and only the future exists now. Your new life, the real one, awaits.