A tiny cry escaped his lips—or at least, it would have, if he hadn't already been aware of everything. The world felt… different. Air tinged with raw, unseen energy; threads of magic weaving invisibly through the walls, the floor, and even through his own tiny, newly-formed body. He squirmed, marveling at the sensation, and then—because he could—he opened his eyes.
A warm, soft gaze met his. Red hair like flames framed a face that radiated elegance and strength. His mother. He could feel it—her aura, noble, commanding, and yet gentle. Even as a baby, his mind cataloged everything: the fine embroidery on her gown, the subtle shimmer of protective wards hovering around her, the faintest trace of her magic flowing into the room. He tilted his tiny head and smirked internally. Not bad… you've got power hiding under the beauty. Interesting.
Beside her stood a man whose presence made the air tighten—a mix of authority, danger, and restraint. His hair was split in stark contrast: white on one side, black on the other, a living symbol of balance and power. His posture screamed discipline, his hand casually resting near a hidden weapon. And as his gaze swept the room, MC felt it: the unspoken command, the strength to seize, protect, and dominate. A fleeting glimpse of movement outside revealed three young women being led somewhere, guarded—his father, a Night Commander, silently enforcing his will.
The infant in the crib's mind buzzed with amusement. Well, this is… complicated. So, my mother is the Duchess? And he's one of the Night Commanders? And I'm… not a prince. Just… a duchess's kid. Got it.
Then the ceiling above caught his attention. A flash of something impossible: a sleek, metallic object slicing through the sky at impossible speed. A medieval-style jet? Yes, the faint roar of engines mixed with the wind, a blend of ancient architecture and technology that made no sense, yet here it was. He traced it with his enhanced perception, noting trajectory, propulsion method, and potential weaknesses in case… well, just in case.
MC flexed his tiny fingers, feeling the magical residue humming around him. Ohhh, so this world's got magic too. Interesting. He could sense spells in the air, layers of enchantments around the room, protective sigils on the walls, and a flicker of more advanced, hidden spells beneath them. The thrill ran through him like electricity. A world where magic exists, nobles wield power, and the sky has flying machines? Oh, this is going to be fun.
His gaze returned to his mother, studying her every subtle movement, noting the calm authority she carried while tending to him. So she's the Duchess… clever, subtle, and strong. Definitely no pushover. And then to his father, the living enigma, both intimidating and protective, capable of terrifying precision and cold strategy. Hmm… daddy's dangerous, but… I like dangerous. Keeps things interesting.
A small laugh escaped inside his mind, though his body was still a baby's. I don't care if I'm tiny. I can feel the magic, I can see the schematics of this world in my head, and I'm not going to just sit here. I've got plans. Chaos. Experiments. Mischief. And maybe a few inventions.
He wriggled against the crib, his awareness stretching beyond the walls, out to the castle, to the distant forests, and even the sky where that jet had disappeared. Already, the gears in his mind were turning, plotting, imagining, and testing.
This wasn't a simple rebirth. This was an entry into a world brimming with opportunity, danger, and fun. And the mischievous smirk that never left his thoughts—tiny, infantile, and impossibly knowing—was the first signal that the youngest engineer, god-level chef, master of illusions, and eternal otaku had arrived.