My heart stopped. My lungs failed. My brain clocked out.
So explain why the fuck I can still think?
I was pretty damn sure I died. If this was the afterlife, then it was way weirder than anything I ever imagined. I expected some floating spirit nonsense. No legs, no arms, me drifting around like a confused balloon. And honestly, with how many people I have killed, I was expecting fire roasting my soul forever. Felt fair enough.
Instead, this body felt almost like my old one, just lighter. Too light. Feels like someone shrink-wrapped me and told me to deal with it.
And that was what scared the hell out of me.
Again, I will repeat myself. I died. My heart stopped. My lungs and organs all failed. And thanks to my final little rebellion and murder, I lost more blood than I even thought possible.
So how, in the holy name of absolute nonsense, am I still here?
I did a full mental scan of my body like some sort of dying yoga instructor. My limbs were still complete, thank God, but they felt short. Really short. Soft too. Stubby.
I tried to talk, just to make sure my brain was not lying to me. I opened my mouth and tried forming even a single word.
Nothing but a tiny whine came out.
Fantastic. I am shorter than usual and I cannot talk. Life just keeps giving.
I tried moving next. Walking. Crawling. Anything. After about fifteen attempts, I accepted the truth.
I cannot walk. I cannot even sit up. I am basically a malfunctioning plush toy with a consciousness.
My confusion only grew when I heard footsteps approaching. Two adults walked into the room, whispering something I could not understand.
Panic hit me instantly. Instinct told me to run, hide, escape, anything.
Shame my body did not agree with any of those plans.
All I could do was lie there like a helpless walnut and watch them come closer. My vision was blurry, but I could make out their shapes. A woman moved first, leaning over me, her face soft and warm. Her eyes looked tired but happy. The kind of happy you see in people who just survived something.
Then it hit me.
No. No way.
She picked me up with both arms, holding me close like I was the most fragile thing in the universe. Her voice was gentle, soft enough that it almost made me… comfortable. Which was terrifying, by the way. I weighed a lot heavier than she could most likely carry.
The man came next. Taller, broad shoulders, trying so hard to look serious but failing the moment he saw me. His whole face melted into this stupidly relieved smile.
And that was when reality finally punched me in the face.
I was not just alive.
I was a goddamn baby.
A newborn baby.
In someone else's arms.
These two… these two people were my parents now.
I wanted to scream, but all that came out was another pathetic baby noise. They both cooed at me like I was adorable. I wanted to tell them I was a murderer in my past life, not some cute little bundle of joy.
But no. All I had was soft limbs, blurry vision, and a squeaky sound that barely qualified as communication.
So yeah. This is my life now.
Reincarnated. Fresh start. Zero dignity.
Great.
I blinked up at them, trying to process this new life. A baby. My thoughts still fully intact. My limbs useless. My body basically a sack of confusion and drool.
'If I get reborn, I wanna live normally for once,' I thought. Maybe… maybe this is my chance. A fresh start. No murders. No chaos. Maybe I could just… live a normal life. Go to school, make friends, eat cake without accidentally starting a war, that kind of normal.
Yeah, that sounded nice. Peaceful. Boring but nice. Maybe even happy.
Next thing I see is my 'dad' suddenly popping out of existence and reappearing a few steps away from us to get something from a basket before popping back. Classic. First day in a magical world and my dad's already cheating physics. My 'mom' didn't even look surprised, like she's seen this thing before.
First of all, holy fucking shit, that was kinda cool. I always imagined what would happen if I see someone who had powers and my own 'father' has so… dream come true. Second of all… what in the actual fuck is my 'father' doing with powers? First day in a magical world and my dad's already cheating physics. My 'mom' didn't even look surprised, like she's seen this thing before.
She carried me and turned so I was facing the window. She was saying… something to my 'dad' but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy having a small mental crisis over what I was seeing.
People flew outside on brooms and… was that an Indian man on a flying carpet? Damn, that's actually kinda cool. To the left, someone ran at a really nice fraction of the speed of sound, and some others were just… phasing through the buildings like it's just a regular Tuesday.
And then reality hit me like a diaper full of explosives.
Normal life. Ha.
This world… was not normal.
Not even close.
The first thing I remembered from my old self was all the weird fights, all the ridiculous powers people had in the stories I read and sometimes got dragged into. Humans here? They could punch through walls, fly, shoot energy out of their hands, manipulate elements, all sorts of ridiculous things that made me realize my "normal life" plan was already over.
My parents were still cooing and fawning over me, completely unaware that their "adorable little baby" was mentally a chaos magnet.
So here I was. Former mercenary. Reincarnated. Fully aware. In a baby body. In a world where powers existed. Where people would eventually notice if I could do things they could not.
Normal life? Ha. Forget it.
I sighed. Well, not literally. I tried, but baby lungs do not handle existential dread well.
Looks like my new life was going to be… complicated.
Really fucking complicated.
And honestly? That scared the hell out of me. But also… it was kind of exciting.
Because if this world had powers, maybe… just maybe… I could survive. Maybe I could become stronger than anyone else. Maybe this time, I would be smarter about it.
Or maybe I would just fuck everything up again. Probably the latter, but hey… at least I had options.
Three years later, I heard my parents talking about me getting some kind of abilities.
Now, most abilities are simple, like making your nails glitter on command, while others were flashy or complex like being able to rip buildings from the foundations with relative ease.
Powers here aren't random lottery tickets. No. They're encoded into your blood like some cosmic DNA subscription plan.
Each person has a "power gene" that carries the essence of their ability. Basically the universe's way of saying, 'here, have chaos pre-installed.'
When two people have a child, the kid's power could be one parent's ability, a hybrid, or a mutation so rare it hasn't existed in fifteen hundred years. If that happens… congratulations, you're screwed.
My mom has photographic memory. My dad has teleportation, but over a short distance. Basically useless, in my professional opinion. I was just a blob of slime with slightly better proportions.
So I thought to myself, I'd probably get something tame, like telekinesis… hopefully.
Deciding to leave this one to fate… or as I like to call it, the 'outer universal roulette board that hates everyone'… I put it away for now.
Abilities don't usually manifest until around four years old since the body can't handle the full power before then.
On my fourth birthday, my parents were stoked enough to get me to the testing center the very next day.
"It only took three minutes from home, even though the place is normally hours away. Dad's teleportation finally did something useful," I muttered low enough so no one would hear me.
'I lowkey want that one,' I mused as we got to the entrance. 'Photographic memory is kind of plain… but could help a lot in exams.'
With that realization came a worse one… school, my worst nemesis.
Most kids start school around this age. That meant I had a few days of peace before adults dragged me back into 'it'll help your life' hell.
Putting that behind me… I had a few weeks until my inevitable madness, so I refocused on the test I was going to be forced through.
The lab smelled like disinfectant and panic. Perfect. Nothing says 'normal baby checkup' like cold rooms and lights that probably want to kill you.
A female doctor with a lab coat too small for her came into the room and started feeling me up. Checking for any physical mutations that might hint at my abilities. All I could think was: is this technically illegal since I'm a mentally thirty-something-year-old man… if you catch my drift?
They checked my eyes, ears, skin, hair… anything that could indicate my ability. Nothing… except a hole in both my palms.
Yeah. That's probably not a good sign, is it?
The appraisal test was next… the final test.
There was a machine. It looked expensive, with a big black orb held up by titanium stands and connected to an ungodly amount of cables.
The operator instructed me to step onto the stand and hold out my hand to the ball. Apparently, it will 'stimulate the dormant power genes and draw out part of my ability.' Or something.
With help, I stepped onto the stand. I may have grown a bit stronger, but I was still a four-year-old blob of flesh. While there, I thought of all the pranks I could pull if I got teleportation or telekinesis… or how photographic memory might help me survive school.
Mom looked through the window like I was harmless. Well… I am currently, but mentally, I am a stone-cold killer!
I shot her a glare. She smiled. Didn't get the message.
"Power gene activation commencing," the machine said. Calm. So calm it was terrifying.
I tried screaming. All that came out was a pathetic squeak. Perfect. My screams are useless. My body is useless. My dignity is useless. Great start.
And then… something woke inside me.
Not a little sparkle or warm glow.
Oh no.
This was a full-on, soul-shaking, "I-am-your-ancestor-and-I-was-a-god" kind of wake-up.
The next thing I know, all kinds of glowing bits of… something swirled around me until they collected in front of me. The machine orb glowed an ominous red like the universe was trying to be dramatic.
The smaller orb manifested between me and the machine, connected to my soul.
Then the machine ball broke. Like shattered in slow motion in some inspirational AMV.
"Fuck," I cursed. "That cannot be good."
The energy ball in front of me didn't dissipate.
Great. My new problem.
And it was flashy… not related to my parent's abilities.
In other words?
I am absolutely and royally fucked.