Chapter 1 - Reborn

Chapter 1 - Reborn

U gh..?

Light pierced through my eyelids as though God himself had punished me suddenly with a flash of brilliance. I blinked one time, then another as I noticed that my eyelids were extremely heavy.

I tried to raise my hand in an attempt to protect myself from the harsh light, but the thing that appeared before my blurred eyes was terrifying. It was tiny, pale, plump, and flopping around aimlessly above me like a flapping dumpling—no, wait. These are my... hands? My mouth dropped in amazement.

Wha... on earth is this?

The truth dawned upon me all at once. I could feel the cold, the wetness, the musty scent of wood, and some metallic smell, maybe blood. The muffled sounds of strange voices talking in a rapid flow of gentle, flowing words that were totally foreign to my ears reached me. It wasn’t English, and it definitely wasn’t Japanese. I had no idea what language it was.

It was all dark. The place was lit by lanterns and I could even see the window from my peripheral vision. It was night time.

And then I became aware that somebody was holding me, carrying my little body in his arms.

Why am I so tiny?

And my mind gave me the most absurd revelation of my entire existence.

I-I am a brand new baby!

I wanted to scream out at the top of my lungs. I wanted to scream out to the world in their faces, 'What the heck?!' However, what emerged from my lips was a loud, high-pitched shriek.

“UWAAAHHHHH!”

The memories came flooding in like a violent wave and were completely unwelcome. All of it came rushing back to me! The airline flight to Australia, the yells of masked men, the frightening cold of a gun against me, and then my reckless choice to do something right for once in my life. The deafening sound of gunfire, the scorching fire burning through my body, and the chaos of screaming people as my head hit the ground.

“UWAHHHH!”

A fresh scream came from my mouth, motivated by the illusion of a broken rib cage. I did not care about my new body at all for one moment.

I was dead...!

This thought made me stop screaming like mad. The unholy screams turned into sobbing. My heart was beating against my rib cage as my old brain played a recording of the last call from my father, the words which he said before I decided to buy my ticket.

I miss you, Paul. I’m so, so sorry for leaving you behind.

He missed me. While divorcing and forgetting about us, he continued to send me money. Only me. No letters, not even texts—just money that I received from him on Tuesdays randomly without any further communication. Meanwhile, I never contacted him even once, believing that he must hate me but still send me money as a duty of a parent.

Particularly when I desperately needed money to play some games called gachas. I mentally facepalmed myself.

F#ck.

When I heard him for the first time in all those years that we hadn’t been in touch, I heard the tone of his voice. He sounded like an old, tired man. Twenty-two years of being a fool in a dark room was enough for me to have the strength to make just one move towards reconciliation, only to be shot down midair.

I am so sorry, Dad.

I wept internally, the grief burning hotter than the bullet wounds.

I just wanted to see your face. I just wanted to see you one last time.

A torrent of rage and disappointment washed over me. All I wanted at that point was to grit my teeth to give me something to hold on to against the onslaught of emotions, but as I forced my teeth into each other, all I could feel was soft flesh. My raw gums clamped down on each other uselessly. Even one tooth I lacked.

Next was the memory of my mother’s thoughts, which seemed set to suffocate me in sheer shame.

The image of the face of a woman who has always been so good to me, the image of her lovely brown hair, now white due to old age, and the unconditional loyalty that she had showed me behind the closed doors of her bedroom for the past two decades flashed before my eyes. She had supported my miserable life, had paid my bills, and had protected my isolation, all to be met with a disaster.

What a terrible son I must have been. I wished I could just beat myself up. I wish I could beat myself up enough for all my teeth to fall out. It was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Though she gave me a second chance, I left her alone to pick up the broken fragments of my useless end. Even in this new body, I could feel the shame from the burden I had put on her.

“He-ugh... sniff.”

My eyes blurred from uncontrollable hiccups wracking my tiny body, unable to bear the burden of grief that my newly formed nerves were not equipped to handle. I was literally choking on my fear, plummeting into the abyss of guilt and self-hatred. I was oblivious to the world around me, shut away in the confines of my past.

Then there was a touch on my face, and the bad thoughts were gone. It was such a gentle, warm touch. I was pulled out of my trance by a voice that had a soft, husky quality like a song. It was very motherly.

“Yul-tha... en velni, Kyro.” the woman whispered.

I could not understand a word, but the soft, prayerful tone made me stop crying. I tried to turn my head in the direction of the voice, but presently my neck was as good as mashed potatoes. Yet, my vision moved sufficiently for me to make out her face.

She was an attractive woman with blond hair that was loosely tied in a bun; her green eyes glistened passionately with intense emotions. Her muscles on the arms were visible along with light scars, but she hugged me with such tenderness that it instantly relieved me of my fears. She was crying; her skin was lightly tanned and a little weathered, suggesting her outdoor life experiences.

Her figure was intriguing, like an Olympic athlete, but it was her look that really amazed me. Nonetheless, I could say that she had an hourglass shape.

I had been reborn. The reality was undeniable.

She loved me... That much was obvious. Even though I did not know her at all, I knew for certain that she loved me.

This must be my new mother.

My gaze drifted slightly down to her chest.

Huge... tits.

It was an instant response, a defense mechanism from my mature brain, an effort to hold on to the cynical person that I used to be rather than drown in this all-encompassing world. Of course, I have never seen such a large chest so up-close before. What else would you have expected me to do?

“Fah, ghil suen-san ja, Reyna.”

A man was kneeling beside her, thus ending my temporary distraction. He seemed to have a good physique. He also had short hair, which was the color of the ocean blue and rose colored eyes. He didn’t utter any words, but just laid his hands upon her back and the other on my small head. The expression of his face was young, maybe somewhere around his twenties, excluding the tiny facial hair growing on his chin. He appeared to be taller than my mother’s height.

I really liked his touch. They were warm, just like mother.

This had to be my new father.

All of a sudden, a quick movement drew my attention from behind them. A little girl appeared in the doorway made of rustic wood, with her hands crossed over each other and leaning against the doorframe casually.

She did not appear to be more than five years old with her long sky blue hair cascading over her neck and golden amber eyes staring at me intently. Her gaze was sharp and full of curiosity because she was sizing me up. She gave me a confident smirk as though she was interested in me and was figuring out how she could dominate me forevermore.

My new sister. I assumed.

Just seeing her made me shudder in my chest. There never had been any siblings in my old life. Back in those days, my natural mother had had an abortion which ultimately destroyed the marriage of my parents and caused the break-up of our family. However, here, in this strange body and this strange world, the universe was throwing me a sister. I was no longer an only child and the feeling was different.

The girl tilted her head slightly. She then walked toward me and observed me; she spoke a brief phrase in an amused tone, “Shblat tayo nara?”

“Keirvon es ti, Laya.” mother replied, her voice growing slightly firmer as she pulled me closer.

She just shrugged, all the while maintaining eye contact with me, saying something else. The manner in which she pointed directly at me with her hand and then wrinkled her nose in a show of pretended distaste was universally understood. She was making fun of me on purpose. My tiny lungs were inflamed uncontrollably by a toxic brew of emotions.

“UWAAHHHH!”

No, please, stop! Not again! I thought.

I was a grown man, yet here I was. Wrapped in cheap fabric, thrashing around like a malfunctioning Roomba, and crying as if some other prick had stolen my identity and wiped clean all the history from my cloud drive. But the scariest thing was the feeling of having no control over my actions. While my grown-up brain was working fine, my body seemed completely out of control and under the command of a baby’s reflexes.

Finally, I was washed, dried, and placed back into new linen. The whole world started spinning around me as I was laid down against the woman’s chest, and her words became a gentle hum to my ears.

“Nara kamo, Kyro. Kyro, kyro, kyroo~.”

Soft syllables whispered into my ear that meant absolutely nothing to my understanding but felt entirely warm. I liked it. I tried to articulate a proper response, to say anything to break the heavy tension and prove I wasn’t just a mindless biological machine, but my mouth produced the dumbest sound ever recorded.

“Bweeh.”

I already hate this body.

Over time, the exhaustion of the transition dulled my senses into a heavy throb, and my loud cries dissolved into small, pathetic hiccups. My breathing finally steadied as my vision adjusted to the environment.

The ceiling above me was composed of thick wooden beams with absolutely no electrical wiring in sight. The lighting emanated from hanging metal lanterns housing flickering, live flames. The structural walls were a rugged blend of stone and timber, devoid of electronics, glowing screens, or medical monitors beeping in the background. There was only firelight, shifting shadows, and warm breath.

Where in the world am I?

I did not have an answer. All I knew was that I was trapped inside the wooden interior of an unfamiliar house, surrounded by the scene of drying herbs, straw flooring, and a faint draft of crisp outside air filtering through the wooden slats.

In my past life, I had read countless light novels, manga, and comics where some unfortunate protagonist dies only to wake up in a magical kingdom. Back then, I dismissed it all as escapist trash tailored for lonely NEETs, an evaluation that felt highly ironic considering what I had become.

Now, I was actively living the cliché, forced to face the exact fantasy nonsense I used to scoff at from the safety of my keyboard. My head lolled helplessly to the side once more. I watched my father speak, his deep voice sounding incredibly low and resolute. Even without understanding, his tone carried strength that—somehow—assured me.

Now my sister’s voice cut through the room one final time:

“Ja ven, ko-uh yobolta!”

Her tone was sharp and firm, perhaps a declaration to the world. I couldn’t translate the vocabulary, but I sort of felt the weight of it. Her golden eyes locked onto mine, and her mouth smirked again in a proud expression. She then poked my nose three times, and at the fourth poke, instead of poking it, she actually drove it into my nose.

“AH—!” I yelped.

“Lyra!” Mother raised her voice, “Ayaw kana fah!”

“Ugh,” my sister rolled her eyes. “Ngyeh.”

I sneezed.

What a great start.

[End]