Man, crawling! My first taste of actual movement—even if it's just dragging myself across the floor. My knees are definitely gonna hate me for this later, but right now, it's my personal ride to explore the tiny universe of our house and backyard. And while I shuffle around like a determined caterpillar, that weird sensation is still there—right under my sternum. Not painful, just... there. Like a tiny, dormant sun waiting to be fed.
Now that I'm about two months old and my hand-eye (or maybe eye-crawl?) coordination is improving, I've started noticing these... fragments? Tiny specks of warm light scattered throughout my body. I can't see them with my eyes, obviously—it's more like sensing my own blood flow, but subtler, more... magical. Mana? Or some kind of precursor to it?
Looks like I live in a village called Serena Village, which, as the name suggests, is pretty chill. Nothing too special—typical medieval-style houses, a big central park that doubles as an open-air market in the mornings, a huge fancy palace up north (probably the government building), a forest to the west, and our house near the outskirts to the south. To the east, there's a dirt road with a makeshift watchtower a few meters high, likely for guards to keep an eye on who comes and goes.
"That's where Dad works, champ," Dad says, pointing proudly at the tall wooden structure—which, honestly, looks like it would collapse in a strong wind. Bored, I grab his nose just to shut him up for a second. It works. He just stares at me like an idiot before tossing me way too high into the air, catching me, and doing it again. And again.
"Honey, you'll scare him! Don't be so rough," Mom says, scooping me up into her warm arms. "My sweet little Lexo," she murmurs, playing with my tiny hands and lifting me gently.
This whole scene plays out nearly every day when we go to the market as a family. Even the villagers are weirdly nice, giving us small gifts and letting us buy first, even when there's a long line.
My favorite crawling spot is near the edge of the yard, where Dad—Garen, the ex-hero type with muscles that could probably snap logs—does his morning training. Watching him train is fascinating. It's not just brute strength; there's a rhythm, a flow to his movements with the wooden sword. Sometimes, when he pulls off a particularly intense set, I swear I feel a faint vibration in my chest, like my core is resonating with his effort.
Some kind of internal energy technique? Even if it's not full-on magic, there's something there.
Then there's Mom—Elara, the healer, all refined grace with gentle hands. When she's not patching up some villager with a nasty cut or a weird fever, she just sits quietly, eyes closed. Meditating, I guess. But when she heals, it's different. I can see the soft, warm light wrapping around her hands, and I can feel a connection to my own core and those scattered fragments. It's like her energy 'calls out' to the specks inside me, making them vibrate.
From what I've gathered from their conversations, there's some kind of 'awakening' around age thirteen—probably when this internal system fully matures and activates.
But… what if I don't wait?
The idea is tempting. Here I am, a reincarnated guy with knowledge of tropes and possibilities. Wait thirteen years? That's an eternity in baby time! If these fragments are supposed to merge into my core eventually, why not give them a little push?
So, while pretending to chew on a blade of grass (very baby-like behavior—gotta keep up appearances), I close my eyes and focus. I try to feel one of the fragments in my arm and… pull it. Mentally, of course. Like trying to wiggle a numb toe.
Frustration. It's like trying to grab smoke with boxing gloves. I can feel the fragments, I can feel the core, but the 'thread' connecting them—or the strength to move them—is
just not there. Or maybe it is, but my control is as clumsy as my ability to walk.
After several minutes of intense concentration (which probably just looks like a baby zoning out at a fly), I manage… something?
One of the specks closest to my core, in my chest, seems to vibrate more intensely. Did it move? Even just a little? Or was that just my reincarnated brain overthinking? No fireworks, no system notification, no sudden power surge. Just that faint vibration and a wave of exhaustion that feels way out of proportion to the effort.
Damn. This is gonna be harder than I thought. Maybe trying to manipulate internal energy without a developed body is like trying to run a marathon on newborn legs.
Makes sense, I guess.
Still, that tiny vibration… it was something. Not nothing. A small but undeniable proof that my theory might be right. The fragments can be influenced. I just need to figure out how.