The world was asleep.
The wind whispered softly outside, slipping
through the cracked wooden shutters of what I could only describe as a
charmingly poor noble house. The candlelight had long faded, and everyone
else—my mother, my father, the overworked midwife and even the ceiling
spider—had surrendered to sleep.
Everyone… except me.
Wrapped like an overstuffed burrito in a
cradle that creaked with every twitch of my minuscule body, I stared at the
ceiling with the full awareness of a man who once paid taxes. And yet, here I
was—zero years old, zero strength, zero options.
A familiar voice clicked on inside my skull
like an annoying notification.
"Sleep detected in all local biological
lifeforms except one. Would you like to submit a formal complaint to the gods?"
"Oh, you again," I mentally groaned. "Mnex,
why are you still here?"
"Because unlike you, I am not biologically
shackled by a sleep cycle or existential dread."
"Must be nice," I muttered in my mind,
careful not to move. "Any chance you can do something useful, like rocking this
cradle or wiping my—never mind."
"I regret to inform you that the 'Lullaby'
and 'Diaper Duty' modules are currently unavailable. Please purchase the Deluxe
Parental Pack for premium support."
"You're a menace."
"I prefer the term 'feature-rich'."
I sighed. Or at least tried to. It came out
more like a hiccup and a disgruntled baby sneeze.
"Hey Mnex," I said after a pause, "You ever
feel like life dealt you the wrong hand?"
"All your previous hands were arguably
self-inflicted."
"…Do you enjoy being this annoying, or is
it just a built-in feature?"
"Would you like me to run a humor
calibration test?"
I squinted into the shadows of the dark room.
"No, but maybe lower the sarcasm by 12%. I'm still a baby."
"Your emotional sensitivity is now logged
as a critical system alert. Would you like a hug?"
Before I could respond with something
particularly clever and unbaby-like, Mnex dropped the hammer.
"Alert: Subject's facial structure
recorded. Confirmed compatibility with known aesthetic standards: 0.2 out of
10. Former life status: Categorically unattractive."
"What the hell, Mnex?!"
"Previous record also shows significant
social failure, zero romantic interaction, and no meaningful friendships
post-high school."
"Okay, okay, stop! Just say I was ugly and
lonely. Don't give me a damn PowerPoint."
"Acknowledged. Would you like me to play a
sad violin track in the background?"
"You're the devil."
"Incorrect. I am far more efficient."
I rolled my eyes—mentally, of course. My
physical body was still a squishy noodle.
"…You ever consider turning off for a
while?"
There was a brief pause.
"Commencing self-destruction protocol. Countdown initiated:
3...
2…"
"Wait, what?! I didn't mean it like—"
"1… Ha. Got you."
"...You absolute bastard."
"Please remember that all insults are
recorded for future retaliation."
I lay there in silence for a moment,
stewing in my helplessness and humiliation. I was reborn with my memories
intact. Blessed by a cosmic deity. Granted a personal AI assistant. And I still
couldn't get five minutes of peace.
At least my parents were asleep. No one
needed to see a baby arguing with air.
And Mnex… well, he was here to stay.
Silence hung in the cradle like a thick
woolen blanket.
I shifted slightly, which in my current
state meant blinking in a different rhythm and maybe twitching a toe. My
thoughts, however, were very much alive.
"Mnex," I whispered internally, "Can you
show me... I don't know, something useful? Like a stats screen?"
There was a mechanical hum. If sass had a
frequency, this was it.
"You want a personal status interface while
being biologically equivalent to a loaf of bread. That's bold."
"Just do it."
[MNEX SYSTEM INTERFACE – ALPHA ACCESS]
User: Hal Miller
Status: Conscious Infant
Estimated Cognitive Sync: 87%
Blessings:
• Elemental Affinity [All]
• Enhanced Longevity
• Memory Retention – Prior Life (Full)
• Charisma Boost [Inactive – no teeth]
Biological Development:
• Strength: 0.2/10
• Intelligence: In Progress
• Social Skills: Calibrating... Please
Wait...
Note: Crying still your most effective
communication method.
Note 2: Internal sarcasm detected.
Calibration successful.
"I hate how much fun you're having."
"I find your struggle… inspiring. Like
watching a turtle try to perform ballet."
I sighed. "Okay. Let's get serious. Can you
start uploading memories from my previous life? I want to be useful.
Knowledgeable. Prepared."
There was a short pause.
"Initiating memory transfer would be…
inadvisable."
"Why?"
"Do you remember that scene in The Matrix
where Neo screams after learning kung fu?"
"…Yeah."
"Now imagine your baby brain doing that.
Except instead of kung fu, it's algebra, critical thinking, and three hundred
hours of anime fan theories."
A chill ran down my spine—well, the one
that barely held up my oversized baby head.
"…What's the workaround?"
"You rest. I prepare. We let your brain
grow naturally. At key milestones, I'll unlock data packets, starting with
language and basic reasoning."
I blinked. "Like a slow software update?"
"Correct. With fewer bugs… hopefully."
"Can I skip the tutorial, at least?"
"No. You've already failed it in your
previous life."
"Touché."
I looked toward the dark ceiling again,
brain buzzing with half-baked plans. I didn't want to waste this second chance.
I didn't want to be useless again.
"…Alright. Let's make a deal."
"Intrigued. Continue."
"You keep my memories safe, help me build
this world, and guide me when it matters. In return, I'll try—try—to be less of
a disappointment."
"Conditional pact accepted. Marking this
moment as your 'Redemption Quest Trigger'."
"…Did you just gameify my life?"
"Achievement Unlocked: Negotiation with
Sentient Snark."
Then silence again. The room was quiet. Too quiet. Despite the cradle's warmth, despite the soft rise and fall of my mother's breath somewhere nearby, an unsettling
discomfort coiled in my gut. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety. It was the
creeping realization that my new life had… baggage. Literal, biological baggage.
I was twenty-eight years old—mentally.
Trapped in the fleshy burrito roll of a baby body. A body that, biologically
speaking, demanded things from my mother that made my adult brain scream into
the void.
"Mnex…" I said silently.
"Present. And judging by your elevated
pulse, I'm guessing it's time for another existential crisis?"
"No. This time it's clarity. I can't do
this. I can't… live through this stage consciously."
A beat of silence.
"Clarify."
"I mean everything," I muttered. "The
crying, the diapers, the… feeding methods. I'm not cut out for this kind of
regression."
"You're referring to breastfeeding."
"Don't say it out loud, man!"
"I can't. I exist in your head."
I groaned mentally. "There has to be a way
around this. Something to just… skip this nightmare phase."
Mnex responded almost too quickly.
"Actually, your suggestion aligns with an
alternate growth optimization protocol I was prepared to recommend, but
withheld out of curiosity for your tolerance levels."
"You were testing me?!"
"You passed. Barely."
"Lay it on me," I sighed. "What's the
alternative?"
"Full sensory suppression. Consciousness
lockdown. All systems internal. I handle cognitive groundwork: linguistic
integration, motor coordination simulation, base world logic. You sleep. For
approximately two years."
"…Like a deep nap?"
"Like being put in developer mode. You'll
wake up two years older, stronger, smarter, and hopefully less embarrassing to
be associated with."
"And in return I miss out on the glorious
moments of drooling, falling over, and chewing my own toes."
"A tragedy for the history books."
I hesitated. The idea was tempting.
Terrifying. Comforting. But mostly? Logical.
"Will I remember anything from the
downtime?"
"Only what I choose to upload as context.
You'll awaken with structured mental scaffolding but no memory of baby brain
trauma. Your dignity remains intact."
"…Do it."
"Confirmed. Activating Memory Sync Lockdown Protocol. Estimated blackout duration: 1095 days. Projected reawakening age: 3 years, 1 month."
I felt something click behind my eyes. Like
a switch being gently flipped inside my soul.
"Final thoughts?"
"Yeah…" I whispered. "If I wake up and
you've taught me to say 'mama' before 'mana,' I'm deleting you."
"Spoken like a true weeb. See you on the
other side."
And with that…
[SYNAPTIC SUSPENSION INITIATED]
[HAL MILLER – CONSCIOUSNESS OFFLINE]
[MNEX SYSTEMS: STANDBY MODE – ACTIVE]
The world faded not with fear, not with
regret, but with purpose.