Charles Helstea
At that moment, I was sitting inside my crib, legs crossed, trying with all my might to focus on my nonexistent mana core.
It had been about two years since I was reincarnated into the body of a baby named Charles Helstea. From what I could tell, this was the universe of The Beginning After The End (TBATE), a novel I used to follow during my teenage years but eventually dropped while waiting for the chapters to pile up and never picked it up again after that.
Cursed be the day I made that decision… I thought, frustrated.
When I first discovered where I was, the very first thing that came to mind was that I needed to form my mana core quickly. If I took too long, I'd end up losing the chance to learn a valuable technique like Mana Rotation, simply because I had formed it too late.
But guess what? I just can't feel mana at all! It's been almost a year and a half since I started trying, and the only concrete result so far is… dirtying my diaper.
Opening my eyes and looking at my own chubby little hands, I realized how much of an advantage Arthur's decades of experience with ki gave him. If he's the same age as Lilia, my twin, then he's the same age as me. And if I'm about to turn three, that means Arthur will soon awaken his core, while I still haven't managed to move even a single particle.
Not far away, in another crib made of the same white wood as mine, Lilia slept peacefully. Unlike me, who had inherited Tabitha's blue eyes and black hair, she had brown eyes and hair, like Vincent. I still couldn't bring myself to call them "parents," or her "sister," nor could I forget my family from the original world. Especially during my first year here, Vincent and Tabitha had called several doctors, worried that their youngest baby seemed constantly sick and sad.
I didn't dare compare this family to my original one. What standard could I possibly use for that? Whether they were more affectionate or stricter with their children? Either way, none of it would serve any purpose other than making me melancholic, imagining how they might be coping with my absence. I didn't even know for sure how or if I truly died, but being here now, I could only assume so.
Even so, for better or worse, this was now my home, and they cared for me with all the tenderness they could offer. Of course, being unable to love them at this moment didn't mean I despised them. Taking a deep breath, I refocused on my mana core, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of a colorless particle shimmering within my consciousness.
*Brrrrt!*
As I began drawing them toward my chest, I suddenly felt the diaper grow heavy and foul-smelling. In that instant, all my concentration vanished, and the effort of minutes—perhaps hours—dissolved like smoke, forcing me to start everything over from scratch.
"Fwuck!" my frustration burst out in a childish curse, half-mumbled by the short tongue of a baby.
My shout echoed through the room and, as expected, ended up waking Lilia. She opened her eyes with a start, frightened, and began crying with all the strength her little lungs could muster. Her crib rocked under her kicks and frantic movements, while I, still dazed from my failure, watched the scene without knowing whether to laugh at the situation or despair.
A few seconds later, the door burst open with a sharp bang, and Tabitha Helstea, visibly irritated, appeared in the doorway, wrapped in an aura that could make even a dragon reconsider its life choices. Lilia's wails seemed to grow louder, as if just to make things worse.
She crossed the room, picked Lilia up, and began rocking her gently, murmuring soft words that contrasted almost cruelly with the look of pure disapproval she shot in my direction. The tender tone of her voice was enough to soothe Lilia's crying, which gradually faded into spaced-out sobs until it stopped completely.
When Tabitha laid her back in the crib, she then turned to me. A long sigh escaped her lips before she bent down to change my dirty diaper. Throughout the whole process, she kept a calm and impassive expression which, somehow, was even more frightening than an immediate scolding. Once she was done, she straightened up and crossed her arms, gazing at me with narrowed eyes and the stern look of someone about to deliver a lesson I would never forget.
"Charles Helstea, where did you learn such foul language?"
I swallowed hard. There was no guilt-free excuse for a two-year-old baby to blurt out a curse word so naturally… except one.
"Dada," I babbled, my voice trembling, accompanied by the purest, most confused look I could possibly fake.
Tabitha froze for a moment, her eyes widening as her fury melted into surprise. Lilia, in her crib, looked around in utter confusion, and the room fell into brief silence. Then, slowly, Tabitha's expression shifted from anger to a dangerous calm, and from calm to a sweet smile... After that, she left the room.
"..."
"Vincent!" she demanded, her voice carrying clearly even through the door. "Come here right now! We need to talk about the example you've been setting for our son!"
I lay still in my crib, doing my best to maintain an air of absolute innocence as hurried footsteps approached the room. Beside me, Lilia began to whimper softly again, sensing the tragedy that was about to unfold. I wonder if he would be sad or happy to know that this was the first time I called him "Dad."