Do you not grasp the gravity of my presence here?
I am Ash Wyvern!
Once revered as the greatest assassin and executioner in all of Gloria! The kings and princes themselves sought my services for their most unspeakable deeds. My name alone sent shivers down spines, a whisper in the dark that meant only death.
And yet, here I was…
Locked in an unwinnable battle.
Before me stood my greatest adversary yet—a spoon, carrying an abomination disguised as food. A mound of green mush that mocked my very existence.
I slammed my tiny fists against the armrest of my chair, rattling the table in defiance. The mere audacity of this situation was insulting!
And yet—
They laughed.
MOCKED!
My new parents, my so-called caretakers, the people responsible for this indignity.
Enough!
My gaze burned with silent fury as I narrowed my eyes at the spoon-wielding woman before me. New Mother.
Must I endure this vile substance again?
Surely she understood the consequences should she persist!
Yet, there it was—the cursed spoon, approaching without hesitation.
No, no, no! Stay back! I twisted, turned, resisted, but—
New Father.
His hands—gentle yet firm—held my head in place. The perfect countermeasure. The ultimate betrayal.
And then—
The spoon struck.
The horror entered my mouth.
My body betrayed me. I swallowed.
…Unforgivable.
"Very well... I whispered darkly (Or maybe I just did a cute squeak), lowering my eyes.
You have forced my hand.
I opened my mouth and took a deep breath—
And unleashed the wail of a thousand suffering souls.
Tears flowed. Cries echoed. The very heavens would tremble at my anguish.
…
Or so I had hoped.
New Mother merely chuckled. New Father smiled in amusement.
…Tch.
These two weren't ordinary parents.
I had underestimated my enemy.
This war was far from over.
I gotta say, this new life started off… unexpectedly.
I mean, compared to Gloria's quiet nights, where only the flicker of magic lamps kept the darkness at bay, this world was a chaotic whirlwind of noise, light, and strange sensations—even for a baby like me.
Yeah, let me explain.
Back home, a newborn's life was simple. They thrived solely on their mother's milk, a perfect, unquestionable source of sustenance. No experiments, no weird mixtures. Just pure, natural nourishment.
Here? Everything was different.
New Mother's milk was warm, familiar, comforting—a taste that felt right in a way I couldn't quite explain.
And I gotta admit, being fully aware that I was drinking breast milk felt…
Heh heh.
…Let's move on.
Then there was formula.
A strange, artificial concoction they forced upon me. Some were sweet and pleasant, a taste that danced on my tongue. Others? Blugh. They lacked the elegance of moonlight, tasting more like a cruel joke played on my existence.
Like that green sludge from earlier.
Unforgivable.
And then, there was magic… or rather, the lack of it.
In Gloria, magic was everything. It thrummed in the air, woven into life itself. You could feel it beneath your skin, whispering to those attuned to its call.
Here? Nothing. Not even a flicker. It was gone.
Instead, there was something called "electricity."
And holy hell, was it weird.
Glassy spheres bathed rooms in constant light, never flickering, never dimming like magic flames. A flat surface on the wall conjured moving images that shimmered like mirages. I nearly lost my mind the first time I saw that.
HOW. HOW DID IT DO THAT?
And that wasn't all. Electricity could heat water, power strange contraptions, and even let faraway voices travel through a small handheld device.
I had to admit…
It was kind of amazing.
Still, the absence of magic left an ache in my soul. A yearning for the familiar.
And yet, a part of me couldn't help but be fascinated. Electricity, with its silent hum, its unseen power, was a different kind of wonder.
Perhaps, in this strange new world…
Magic still existed?
Maybe I just had to open my tiny eyes a little wider…
And find it.
"Lily, let's try a trend, shall we?"
New Mother's voice, laced with a hint of mischief, pulled me from my milk-induced trance.
Ugh… I was so comfortable, too. Do they have to disturb my royal nap time for their little experiment?
Apparently, my parents had decided to engage in what people in this era called a "trend."
Translation: A scientific experiment where they tested my reactions to random objects. Fantastic. For them.
And today's lucky test subject?
A place they called the "bathroom."
I schooled myself: Show no surprise. Stay detached. In my past life, emotional indifference was a weapon, a shield that kept me invincible. It had served me well before—no reason it shouldn't now.
But… curiosity flickered in me when they placed me in front of something strange and smooth.
I reached out. Cool. Solid.
…A mirror?
Huh. This was probably my third time seeing one. The only other times had been when I was summoned before the queen in Gloria and when I glimpsed my reflection in water.
But this? This was different.
For the first time in this new life, I truly saw myself.
And—well, damn it all. I had to admit it. Even trapped in this squishy, baby-sized body…
I looked good.
Long, wavy hair cascaded past my chubby cheeks, a mix of blonde with streaks of deep black. Fortunately, I had a normal forehead. Thank the gods—I wasn't about to become one of those tragic, high-forehead victims.
But my eyes—now those were the real show-stealers.
One emerald green, just like New Mother's.
The other a deep blue, mirroring New Father's.
A perfect fusion. Predictable. Cliché. But undeniably striking.
I tilted my head.
A familiar glint of mischief flickered in my mismatched gaze—Ash Wyvern's spirit, alive and well.
Oh, just you wait, world.
I may be a mere baby now, but in a few years? Hearts will shatter. Jaws will drop.
Lina Lapis isn't here to play—she's here to conquer.
…Wait.
That sounded way too seductive.
Am I gay?
Damn it, I need to get used to this whole "being a girl" thing.
Haaaa… What a pain.
The first few weeks of this new life were… a revelation.
Gentle hands rocked me, warm voices cooed my name—a stark contrast to the cold, ruthless existence I had once known. It was almost disorienting, this thing they called… love?
Elza—New Mother—was especially chatty. She would talk to me endlessly, her words a constant stream of warmth, even though my current vocabulary was strictly limited to "Dada" and "Mama."
I appreciated the effort, really. But let's be honest—she was probably just trying to drown out the monstrous roars of the iron beasts that rampaged past our windows every day.
Seriously, what was with those things?! Their metallic shells gleamed under the sun, their wheels screeching against the pavement like banshees.
So noisy. So annoying.
I had no choice but to clamp my tiny hands over my ears every time one of them passed by. Can't a baby get some peace in this world?! I'd already died once, and now I had to suffer this on a daily basis?
Twice a week, Elza would bundle me up and take me outside—where the nightmare only worsened.
The chaos of this world was overwhelming. The sheer cacophony of honking vehicles, the dizzying rush of wind, the blinding lights that flickered from strange, glowing signs—it was all too much. I clung to her tightly, a tiny explorer lost in a world too big, too fast, too loud.
But the worst betrayal?
Elza couldn't always be there.
Five days a week, she vanished into the abyss known as "work."
She called it "being an accountant." Something about numbers and ledgers? I had no idea. What I did know was that this cruel world forced mothers to abandon their young.
…Truly, a barbaric civilization.
I expressed my protest with a disgruntled gurgle.
(Or maybe it was just gas.)
Thankfully, New Father, Bruno, picked up the slack.
Unlike Elza, Bruno was a quiet type. Stoic, composed, his deep voice rarely wavering. He worked only two days a week, which meant he had plenty of time for cuddles and stories.
Apparently, he was some sort of "bean sack dev"?
No, wait… "Full-stack developer."
Yeah, that.
Elza assured me he worked hard from home the rest of the time. Though, from what I observed, his "work" seemed to involve a lot of sitting at a desk, muttering curses at a glowing screen.
Still, despite his quiet demeanor, when he held me in his arms, his usual cold expression softened. A warmth bloomed in his gaze, like I was the most precious thing in the world.
And that?
That deserved a reward.
So I gave him my biggest, drooliest grin.
Sometimes, in a fit of excitement, I might have even… accidentally kicked him in the face.
…Oops.
But if he weren't my father?
Let's just say, in another life, I'd be dropping my diaper for him.
Too bad we can't.
And for a man, Bruno's cooking was… shockingly good.
Every evening, the air would fill with the most mouthwatering aromas—savory stews, sizzling meats, warm, buttery bread.
Did they remind me of anything from my past life?
Nope.
But who cares? They were delicious.
And every time he fed me, he'd flash a mischievous smile and whisper,
"You need to keep this a secret between us. We don't want our lovely Maria to get mad, right?"
Ah, Bruno, compared to Elza, you were spoiling me rotten.
He'd sway me on his lap afterward, his deep voice weaving stories of his whirlwind romance with Elza and this new home of ours—Alaranta.
He clearly envisioned me as some elegant, refined young lady.
And me? I let out a gurgle of agreement, the picture of an obedient daughter.
…Yeah. That wasn't happening.
I mean, let's face it, I was destined to become a tombgirl troublemaker who wouldn't give a damn about dresses and makeup.
Sorry, Bruno.
Ding-Dong!
The doorbell rang, breaking the moment.
I raised my head to the clock. Huh?
Too early for Elza to be back.
Bruno, still holding me in his arms, walked toward the door.
Then he…
HEY. HEY. HEY!
Who gave you the right to balance me on one arm while opening the door?!
Hello?! That's less lap space for me! Injustice!
…Whatever.
The door swung open, revealing a man standing on the other side.
And whoa.
He looked just like Bruno.
I mean, for real for real.
Same face, just more buffed up. The only real difference? A beard and no glasses.
Bruno smirked. "Welcome back, Romeo. Finally returned from Krow?"
The man—Romeo, apparently—nodded.
And then, to my absolute shock… he started tearing up.
"…Yeah. I'm sorry I missed her birth." His voice wavered as he reached out his arms toward me. "Hi there, young lady! Oh, aren't you just the cutest!"
Oh no.
No no no no.
Bruno, you wouldn't.
You wouldn't just hand me over like some kind of prize, RIGHT?!
…And there I go.
Now I was officially in Romeo's arms, being cradled like a shiny new trophy.
Romeo rocked me gently, his voice soft. "There, there. You really are a silent little angel, aren't you?"
I…
Well, I mean…
Ugh.
Damn it. I liked this.
I even found myself playing with his short beard, tugging at the bristly strands absentmindedly.
And that, dear readers, was how I met my New Uncle.
Romeo Lapis—Bruno's older brother, spitting image, and certified beard-having big guy.
Pleasure to meet ya!
I stayed in Romeo's arms while he and Bruno settled into conversation.
Apparently, Romeo had spent 2 months working at some fancy academy called Kaiser in a faraway country called Krow.
Did I care?
Not in the slightest.
Because something else was far more interesting.
Romeo felt… warm.
And no, not body warmth—this was different.
It wasn't spiritual. It wasn't emotional.
Then what the heck was it?!
The more I focused on him, the more I noticed it—something swirling inside him. No, it was clinging to his skin as well.
A mist.
Not mist—energy.
A blue, faintly glowing aura, lightly clinging to him like a second skin.
Was I seeing things? Hallucinating?
I reached out, tiny fingers grasping for that ethereal mist.
Nothing.
No sensation. No resistance.
But I knew it was there.
I could see it.
And just as I was about to think deeper—
WHOA WHOA WHOA!
Romeo suddenly rocked me in his arms!
Geez, could you NOT?!
I swear, if I had the words, I'd rat you out to Bruno.
…Wait.
Where was Bruno?
I took a little sniff. That warm, savory aroma…
Ah. Kitchen.
Yeah, I was alone with Romeo now.
He peered at me for a long moment, his brows slightly furrowed, his mouth slightly agape.
Was he… shocked?
Then, in a hushed voice, he whispered,
"Do you see something, young lady?"
…Huh?
What kind of cryptic nonsense was that?
Of course, I see things, you idiot!
He leaned in slightly. "Something blue, perhaps?"
My eyes widened.
Holy—
He read my mind.
There was no other explanation.
But how could I tell him that I did see it? My baby tongue was still tragically useless.
Think, Lina, think.
Then my eyes landed on the papers and crayons scattered on the table nearby.
Yes! That's it!
I reached out, letting out an innocent little baby hum.
Romeo got the message and carried me over, settling me onto his lap.
Time for a miracle.
Drawing.
I gripped the crayon with all the strength my pudgy fingers could muster and got to work.
First—a stickman. Broad shoulders. Buff. That was Romeo.
Then—I added blue mist around him.
By the time I finished, I was exhausted.
But I did it.
I lifted my tiny head to Romeo, seeking his reaction.
His jaw dropped.
Sweat glistened on his forehead.
Then, after a long pause, he let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle.
"…Oh my God…"
He exhaled, shaking his head before whispering in awe—
"The Young Lady is an Awakener."
I arched a brow.
Huh? An Awakener?
What the heck did that even mean?
Elaborate, New Uncle!
Don't just drop a cryptic line and then stare at me all lovingly like that!
I flailed my tiny arms and kicked my little legs, trying to demand answers.
But did he acknowledge my frustration?
No.
Instead, he kept holding me absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts.
Romeo! Focus! Explain!
Alas, my efforts were in vain.
Neglect.
Bruno returned, carrying two plates of whatever deliciousness he'd just cooked up, and instead of indulging my curiosity—
They both started eating.
And talking.
About.
Krow.
Again.
For the first time since my reincarnation, I was not the center of attention.
Did they dare?!
Yeah…
They dared.
I hummed.
I tugged at Romeo's beard.
I even threw in some cute baby noises.
Still. Nothing.
…Truly, a tragedy.