The last thing I remembered was blood…
And the sound of someone screaming my name over gunfire.
Then, nothing.
No pain.
No body.
No breath.
Just… floating.
Like a whisper stuck between worlds.
> "So this is death, huh?"
Weird.
I thought I'd feel fear. Regret. Anger.
But all I felt was silence.
My old life?
Wake up. Train. Fight. Repeat.
No thrill. No meaning.
Just orders and steel.
So no — I wasn't sad to die.
But if there's one thing I wished for...
> "Just once… let me be like those anime protagonists.
Let me be strong enough to protect what matters."
---
Then, the darkness cracked.
Light burst through like a flood.
Voices echoed around me in a language I didn't know.
My chest rose. My eyes opened.
I was… being held?
> Wait. I'm alive?!
Hands cradled me gently.
Women bustled around in long dresses. A man stood tall, dressed like a noble from a fantasy game.
And in front of me… her.
A woman with golden hair and kind eyes — the kind of beautiful that didn't feel real.
She smiled down at me and kissed my forehead.
Her touch was warm. Her voice, a lullaby.
She held me to her chest.
> Who… is she?
Then I looked at my hands.
Tiny.
Soft.
Wiggling.
> …No way.
They were cutting a cord from my stomach.
Maids moved quickly with practiced grace.
And that noble man… smiled softly.
> That's my… father.
She's my… mother.
I… I've been reborn?!
Tears welled up in my eyes. Not from pain.
From something I didn't know I could feel:
> Joy.
I wailed.
And somewhere between the screaming and the warmth of new arms...
> I pooped myself.
But hey — I'm a baby. Sue me.
---
⏳ Five Months Later…
I crawl like a wild animal, faster than most guards can catch me.
But it's useless.
The moment I escape my room, someone scoops me up.
A maid smiles politely. My mother laughs. My father nods as if this is somehow dignified behavior.
> I'm a prisoner in a palace.
And I still can't talk.
---
⏳ A Year and a Half Later…
I can walk now.
Two legs. Total freedom.
> Well, sort of.
My older sister makes sure I never enjoy it for too long.
She's only two years older, but acts like my personal bodyguard-slash-warden.
If I try anything suspicious — sneaking food, hiding weapons (yes, baby-sized toy daggers), or escaping — she punches me.
Not a love tap. A mini-uppercut.
But she also plays with me.
Sits with me when I cry.
Hugs me when no one's watching.
> She's scary.
She's overbearing.
She's… kind of perfect.
Her name is Iris Montelo.
And she's already more beautiful than most adult actresses back home.
---
Our family name is Montelo — nobles who serve directly under the king of this kingdom: Ariana Kingdom.
There are 20 great noble houses, and apparently, we're one of them.
I don't know politics.
But I know power.
And this family… has it.
---
⏳ Two Years Since Rebirth…
Still no name.
That's not an insult — it's tradition.
Here, names are earned. Chosen during a ceremony on the child's second birthday.
It involves a ritual bath in milk and water, blessings from high nobles, and symbolic gifts.
> It's tomorrow.
The whole mansion is buzzing.
Servants decorate the halls.
Even Iris seems excited — which is terrifying.
And me?
I stand near the window, looking out over the courtyard.
> A new name… a new path… a new life.
Whatever happens tomorrow, one thing's for sure:
> This time, I'm going to live for real.
---