"What... is this?
Where am I?
Who the hell are these people...?
Why is everything so damn loud?!
What? Why... are my hands this small...?
Why the hell can't I control my body—?!"
His thoughts were sharp. Too sharp for a body that couldn't even hold up its own head.
Panic hit fast. Nothing felt right.
I can't speak. Why?
Why am I an infant again?
"You have… great… This is your… Ar…k…"
That line felt shattered in his skull—scrambled beyond comprehension.
What did that guy do to me?
What was that strange castle?
Those hooded figures clustered around that ebony table—were they monsters?
They even tried to kill me like that black floating corpse, or maybe they did it...
Aahhh! Everything is so confusing and going so fast I can't keep up with it.
Wait, is this... reincarnation?
That anime, web novel stuff I binge?
A magical world?
The people around me—literally casting glowing spells on me.
Yeah!
This is magic, no doubt.
This woman who just gave birth, so she is my mother in this life, is so pretty, like a young movie actress.
But… what about my mom from before?
Is she doing okay?
Did she cry? Did she look for me?
Damn… I didn't even get to say goodbye.
I died in my world.
Reborn here.
As a baby.
... Screw it.
Footsteps, Voices Are Too Loud
Oh, Warm Hands....
Someone's holding me.
The grip is shaky but tender.
Who is this old dude?
He's looking at me like I just crash-landed in his living room in a UFO.
"So small… And yet, why do I feel like the world just shifted? You've got no idea how long we waited for you... Welcome home, son."
Is this my father? In this world?
Something tugs at him.
A strange warmth flickering in the dark cave of his chest.
He remembers flashes—
A figure who never held him.
A voice lost too soon.
An ache left behind.
But this?
This moment?
This was different.
This was love.
His fingers moved on their own. Reaching for his hand. Holding him.
Like his soul recognized something it never got the first time.
"Hmm... not too old. The face looks okay. Not ugly, not hot either. Just… average," he muttered it internally trying to cover up the emotion
"A real Rox, no doubt,"
Another voice chimes in—softer, proud.
Probably Grandma.
"He's got your eyes," she says.
Great. I've been alive for five minutes, and they're already comparing eye shapes and looks.
Another voice—deeper, commanding. Grandpa, for sure.
"Name him well. He'll carry more than just our blood."
That one's probably Grandpa. This old geezer sounds like he will throw me into a great war someday for sure.
"Arvik. Arvik Rox," the old lady declares.
Arvik, huh? Not bad. Cool name.
Still no clue why I'm here.
Or how.
Everything's moving too fast.
I haven't even processed dying yet.
All I know is I'm not supposed to be here. And yet… here I am.
And that old weirdo wanted?
What does this "Ar..k" even mean?
Hey....
Hey....
Stop....
Can you all STOP poking me like I'm some glowing fruit?
I'm still processing my death.
Good thing they can't read minds.
If they could, I'd be dropped on the spot.
I should pretend to be a normal baby and try to throw some newborn tantrums."
WAAAAAAA—
WAAAAAAA—
The cry explodes like thunder, echoing across the room.
"There, there, little one… It's all right, shhh, shhh… No one's going to hurt you."
The old lady thinks love could calm the fire.
"But I won't stop."
"He's just scared of all the noise," she says.
"He feels too much. He's sensitive."
"That's the Rox blood roaring in him!" Grandpa laughs—loud, proud.
Anikar Soren was dead.
Arvik Rox was alive.
Outside, the storm had passed.
The stars blinked like nervous sentinels.
But something watched. Ancient. Patient.
A candle flickered.
And in a cradle woven from magic and love, under the gaze of mortals and gods alike, the baby slept.
Deep inside that tiny shell, something whispered—
"You and I were never meant to return. But you are here. For a reason. A cause.
Your story... begins again."
Wait.....
What was that??
This black mist
It's blinding my sight.
It's breaking my mind again—!
His small body spasmed, shaking violently.
He screamed—pure, unfiltered agony in a baby's cry.
His family rushed over, panic in every breath.
"What's happening to him?!"
"Why is he crying like that?! Call the doctor! Call the healers!"
Healers swarmed in, chanting, hands glowing.
The cries wouldn't stop.
"The baby's energy is surging up...
There's something wrong with his mana," he said.
"It's rising too fast. It's surging toward his upper core. Like his fragments inside him are trying to wake up themselves."
Second Healer replied after analyzing the situation.
"But... But he's just been born; his body is too weak to handle it. If this continues, the mana torsion could tear him apart."
More healers entered. Three, then five. All hands glowing with spells.
They all used their magic, trying to suppressthe baby's mana.
More magic. More desperation.
And then—
Silence.
The cries stopped.
The baby... stilled.
Breathing deep. Eyes closed.
The healers stared, drained.
"It's over. For now."
"What even was that?!" Lady Rox asked,
"We don't know… We've never seen anything like it."
Then the door opened.
And in walked her.
A woman stepped forward—tall, radiant, and impossibly graceful. Her presence was almost divine, like the air itself bowed to her.
Black hair glowing like silver flame, eyes glimmering with something ancient.
She looked just too calm for someone who had just walked into a storm of magic.
"Who are you?!" the father snapped, stepping in front of the child to protect him.
"This is nothing," she said calmly. "Your child is just… special. He has a reason for being born into this world. Don't worry."
One healer asked, "Where is the doctor?"
"You won't need one," she smiled. "I can calm him... if you'll let me."
"Intruder!" yelled the head of the Rox family.
"We didn't sense your arrival," Grandfather said coldly.
"That alone makes you dangerous."
"I wanted this to end peacefully... but of course, a Rox never bows out quietly as expected.
So be it. If you're going to roar, then I won't be holding back either." The lady said, raising her hands.
and before they could even react—
She was behind the healers.
Close. Too close.
Her expression was unreadable. Calm.
Her fingers rose beside the man's head.
Twitching. Twisting. Unnatural.