"Am I dead?"
That was the question that lingered in Alfred's mind for over fifteen minutes. It was fifteen minutes since he had been killed by a gunman who raided the Les Invalides. Any longer he'll believe that he was in some sort of afterlife.
But the surroundings didn't look like heaven or hell. It was just total darkness. Is this how people die? Floating inside of a darkness forever? If so, then this is the worst! Imagine dying and then being trapped in a complete darkness for an unknown number of days or even years. His sanity would be deprived.
Just as he was about to contemplate how he would deal with this, a light appeared from his right. He turned towards the source of the illumination and there he saw it, like a light at the end of the tunnel, both figuratively and literally.
With all of his might, he reached for the light, and he felt his body floated towards. The light grew brighter and brighter until light enveloped his field of visions.
And seconds later, he could hear sounds.
At first they were muffled, thick, blurry vibrations, nothing more than soft hums brushing against his ears. He couldn't understand a thing. It felt like listening underwater.
Shapes moved above him. Shadows shifted. A warm glow flickered around his vision.
He tried to blink, but even that movement felt foreign. His eyelids fluttered weakly, opening only for a moment before closing again. The light was too bright. His body felt small, heavy, uncoordinated. He couldn't even lift his own head.
A soft voice reached him. A woman.
"Mmm… mmh…? …little one…"
He heard the tone, not the words. The sounds blurred together like mixed syllables. He forced his eyes open again. A blurry outline hovered above him—a face, warm lamp light behind her hair. She spoke again, her voice gentle but indistinct.
"Mmh… don't worry… you're safe…"
He wanted to respond, but his mouth moved on its own. A small, involuntary noise escaped him, high-pitched and weak, like a baby's cry.
That's when his heart sank.
Because he felt the sound coming from a throat far smaller than his own.
Another voice joined in, deeper, slightly more formal. A man, standing somewhere near the foot of… whatever he was lying in. Their speech sharpened, like someone slowly adjusting a radio dial.
"…Your Majesty, should I alert the staff…?"
Still muffled, but he could make out the cadence now. He could tell it was language. He could tell the rhythm was familiar.
It was French.
A woman leaned closer, her face moving into clearer view. She wore clothing he only saw in period films—simple but elegant fabric, high collar, sleeves trimmed in lace. Her hands slid under him, lifting him gently.
Warmth enveloped him. Her heartbeat thudded faintly against his cheek.
"There, there… calm down," she whispered. "Napoleon, this is your child."
Napoleon?
A man stepped into view.
Shorter than legends described. Broad-shouldered. Square jaw. Dark hair combed neatly back. A uniform fitted with crisp lines and gold embroidery.
Napoleon Bonaparte.
The Emperor of the French.
The woman gently shifted, offering the child—offering him—into Napoleon's arms.
Then Napoleon lifted him.
Alfred felt the roughness of the emperor's gloves through the blanket. He smelled faint traces of ink, leather, and powder on the man gripping him.
Napoleon studied his face with a neutral, appraising stare.
"So," Napoleon said quietly, "here is my son."
"A strong boy," the emperor added. "Good. France has an heir now."
The woman beside him smiled and bowed her head. "He is healthy, Sire. The doctors say he is robust for a newborn."
Napoleon nodded once, satisfied. "That is what matters."
He glanced at the guards. "You may inform the artillery commander. The cannonade shall begin."
At once, one of the guards bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Napoleon continued, "A son of France deserves to be introduced properly. Fire the salute from the Tuileries grounds. All of Paris should know."
"Yes, Sire."
Based on what's happening around him, Alfred seemed to have reincarnated as the son of Napoleon Bonaparte, specifically, Napoleon the Second. And the lady speaking to him at first was the Archduchess of Austria, Marie Louise.
So reincarnation does exist but why Napoleon the Second? Was it because he was near Napoleon II tomb before he died? Well, nevertheless, this was better than being trapped in total darkness. This was his second chance in life and he won't waste it.
For now, he celebrated his rebirth by crying out loud like a baby.