'I... I can't believe it. Another world... this is unbelievable.'
Ryan's thoughts swirled in chaotic patterns as he lay in the simple wooden cradle Mary had set up for him in what appeared to be a nursery area of the orphanage. The cradle itself was beautifully crafted, with intricate carvings along its edges. Soft blankets woven from what felt like wool surrounded him, providing warmth and comfort that his infant body seemed to crave instinctively.
'Is this a whole other reality, or just a planet somewhere else in the universe? Am I an alien now?'
His mind was aflutter with possibilities, each more incredible than the last. The implications of his situation seemed to expand with every passing moment, creating an endless web of questions that he had no way of answering. Not only had he been reincarnated after death - something that defied every scientific principle he'd ever learned - but he had been transported to an entirely different world, possibly even an entirely different reality.
The contrast was staggering. This world appeared to be significantly behind Earth in terms of technology, existing in what seemed like a medieval or pre-industrial state. No electricity, no modern medicine, no mass production or advanced materials. Yet on the other hand, they possessed something that people from his world could never have, something that made up for all their technological limitations and then some.
'Magic. They have magic here. That must have been what Mary did, right? Magic! Unbelievable. It healed that kid's injury like it was nothing.'
The memory of that green aura, of watching flesh knit itself back together through sheer force of will and mysterious energy, played over and over in his mind like a recording he couldn't turn off. In his previous world, such a wound would have required antiseptic, bandages, possibly stitches, and weeks of careful healing. Here, it had been resolved in minutes through what could only be described as supernatural intervention.
Ryan lay in the cradle for what felt like hours, his infant eyes staring up at the ceiling while his adult mind desperately tried to grasp hold of his new reality. The wooden beams above were rough-hewn and sturdy, supporting a roof that kept out the elements. Everything around him spoke of a simpler time, yet also of capabilities that transcended anything his old world had ever achieved.
Just as he was beginning to feel like he might be getting a handle on his situation, something else shocking happened that left him stunned and his thoughts completely blank.
'I... I... did I just poop myself?'
'When? How? I didn't even notice I needed to go - it just happened! What the hell!'
But that wasn't the worst part. As the uncomfortable sensation registered fully, he found himself overwhelmed by an emotional response that seemed completely disproportionate to the situation. Tears began welling up in his eyes without his permission, and a crushing sense of helplessness washed over him like a tide.
'And why do I suddenly feel so emotional? I feel like I'm ready to have a mental breakdown…'
Before his thoughts could even finish forming, Ryan found himself crying involuntarily, the sound pouring out of him with an intensity that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. The crying wasn't something he was choosing to do - it was happening to him, his infant body responding to discomfort and confusion in the only way it knew how.
Within moments, he heard Mary's footsteps hurrying across the wooden floor toward his cradle. Her face appeared above him, creased with concern and immediately understanding what had happened. Without hesitation, she lifted him gently and began the process of cleaning him up, speaking soothingly in that universal tone adults used to comfort distressed babies.
'T-this... this is humiliating!'
The thought burned through his consciousness as Mary efficiently changed his clothing and cleaned him with practiced motions. Here he was, eighteen years old mentally, being tended to like the helpless infant his body had become. Every aspect of the situation wounded his pride and challenged his sense of self in ways he hadn't anticipated.
But Mary's gentle handling and soft words did something unexpected - they actually made him feel better. Despite his mental protests, his body responded to her care with a sense of security and comfort that he found deeply disturbing. In his previous life, he had prided himself on not needing anyone, on being self-sufficient even in his depression. Now he was completely dependent on others for even the most basic needs.
Soon she finished her ministrations, and the day continued. Ryan was fed from a bottle filled with what tasted like goat's milk, warm and rich in a way that his body seemed to crave. He wet himself and soiled himself several more times throughout the day, each incident accompanied by that same involuntary emotional response that left him feeling frustrated and confused.
Eventually, exhaustion overcame his racing thoughts, and he was put to bed in his cradle as the sun set outside the small windows. But sleep didn't come easily. His mind rattled with possibilities about his current state, theories about how reincarnation worked, questions about whether he would ever see his old world again, and fears about what his future in this strange place might hold.
The next day followed a remarkably similar pattern, as did the day after that. Feeding, cleaning, brief periods of being held and comforted by Mary or one of the older children, then more feeding and cleaning in an endless cycle that began to blur together into a routine he never could have imagined enduring.
Days became weeks, weeks became months, and soon enough, an entire year had passed in this new existence.
Ryan was one year old now, though the milestone felt surreal given his mental state. Physically, he had made progress - he could crawl now, his motor control had improved significantly, and he had slightly better command over his body's movements. But embarrassingly enough, he still couldn't control his bowel movements, something that continued to mortify his adult consciousness every single time it happened.
However, he hadn't spent the year doing nothing. Through careful observation and unwilling participation in infant life, he had learned several disturbing things about his situation.
First, it seemed that even though his mind retained the memories and consciousness of his eighteen-year-old self, the body he inhabited was definitely affecting his mental state in ways he couldn't control. The inability to control basic bodily functions was just the beginning. He found himself resorting to extreme emotions and throwing what could only be described as temper tantrums at the slightest inconveniences, just like any normal baby would.
Even more disturbing was how he couldn't help but feel genuinely comforted by things like being held or rocked by Mary. When she would pick him up and cradle him against her shoulder, or when she would rock him gently while humming lullabies, his body would relax and his mind would quiet in ways that he found deeply unsettling.
All of these responses were completely contrary to his personality in his previous life. He had been someone who hardly ever let emotions show. He hadn't found comfort in physical contact or nurturing gestures - if anything, such things had made him uncomfortable. Now his body was forcing these responses on him, creating a constant internal conflict between who he remembered being and how he was compelled to react.
The older children in the orphanage had accepted him as just another baby, playing with him occasionally and helping Mary with his care. They had no idea that behind his infant eyes was the consciousness of someone who had lived through seventeen years of modern life, someone who understood concepts and experiences far beyond what his appearance suggested.
Ryan sighed internally as he lay in his cradle one evening, watching shadows dance across the ceiling as candlelight flickered in the room beyond. 'Puberty. I have to go through puberty all over again.'
The thought filled him with a mixture of dread and resignation. If his infant body was already overriding his mental control in so many ways, he could only imagine how much worse it would become as hormones began affecting his developing brain. The conflict between his mind's age and his body's development was already challenging enough - he wasn't looking forward to the additional complications that adolescence would bring.
As he drifted off to sleep that night, Ryan found himself wondering if this internal struggle would ever resolve itself, or if he was doomed to spend this entire second life fighting against his own biology. The magic of this world offered possibilities he had never imagined, but it couldn't change the fundamental reality of his situation: he was trapped in an infant's body with an adult's awareness, forced to experience childhood all over again while fully conscious of what he had lost.
A/N: Bros getting Poopy!