Arthur felt... cold.
Not the kind of cold you'd get from a breeze or winter chill—this was deeper. Like his entire body was made of ice. But that didn't make sense, because something was wrong with his body too.
He tried to move, tried to breathe in, and that's when the panic hit. His arms and legs didn't respond like they should. Everything felt too small, too weak.
Then came the noise. Voices. Not just background noise, but actual speech.
"Anadl ei galon... mor gryf. Nid wyf erioed wedi gweld baban yn allyrru cymaint o egni â hwn."
"His breath... so strong. I've never seen a baby release this much energy."
What the hell? Arthur thought. That was... Brythonic? He hadn't heard that since high school history class. He'd taken it up for fun when he went through a mythology phase.
"Fe allai fod y 'Ddraig Goch' o'r broffwydoliaeth. Hyd yn oed ei enaid... mae'n debyg ei fod yn gynnar iawn."
"He could be the Red Dragon from the prophecy. Even his soul... it's already reacting."
That word again. Prophecy. Dragon. Energy. And the people speaking—men, it sounded like—weren't talking casually. There was weight in their voices. Urgency. Reverence.
His eyes finally opened.
Everything was blurry and too bright. Shadows moved—tall figures with cloaks, armor, and something old in the way they carried themselves. He couldn't focus, couldn't make sense of the shapes, but their presence felt... important.
He tried to cry out, but it came out as a baby's scream.
Oh God. No. No way.
His heart sank.
It wasn't a dream. He was a baby. A newborn, from the sound of it.
"Fy amser i yw'n byr, Merlin. Os yw'r bachgen hwn wir yn rhodd y nefoedd, yna fe wn beth i'w wneud."
"My time is short, Merlin. If this boy is truly heaven-sent, then I know what I must do."
So... Merlin? As in that Merlin?
Arthur blinked hard. Everything hurt. Even thinking hurt. But some part of his brain—the stubborn, rational part—was screaming that this didn't add up.
This couldn't be real.
"Bydd Caliburn yn aros yn y cerrig nes i'r un gwir ddod. Gadewch iddo dyfu mewn heddwch. Dan orchymyn fy nghalon olaf."
"Caliburn will rest in the stone until the true one comes. Let him grow in peace. That is my final command."
Caliburn. That name. He knew it. He remembered it from legends. The sword before Excalibur. The blade of kings.
And that's when it really hit him.
He wasn't just in some fantasy world.
He was in a legend.
Another cry echoed beside him. He turned his head—or tried to—and caught a glimpse of someone lying next to him. Another baby. Wrapped in the same soft cloth, breathing evenly, eyes closed.
His twin?
"Ac os yw'n deyrnasu, bydd ef, nid hi. Er eu bod fel dau olau o'r un seren."
"And if one is to rule, it will be he, not she. Though they are two lights born from the same star."
So she wasn't just anyone. She was part of this too. They were twins. Two newborns with freakish magical potential.
A rush of warmth filled the air. He didn't understand it at first, but then he felt it—his own body was leaking mana. No spell. No training. It was just spilling out of him, raw and unfiltered.
"Duwiau... mae'n deffro eisoes."
"By the gods... he's awakening already."
Whatever that meant, it freaked them out. The man—Merlin?—stepped closer but didn't touch him. Just looked at him, like someone staring at an unsolvable riddle.
He looked down at the girl next to him—his sister. She wasn't crying. She wasn't moving. Just... watching. Like she understood something he didn't.
Arthur felt the tightness in his chest return. This wasn't reincarnation. This wasn't isekai. This was something heavier. Something chosen.
Another man leaned over him now. Older. Worn. He had a crown on, and his voice was lower, more personal.
"Byddwch y Brenin nad oeddwn i byth yn ddigon cryf i fod. Dewch â gobaith i Brydain. Byddwch y Ddraig."
"Be the king I was never strong enough to be. Bring hope to Britain. Be the Dragon."
Then he stepped away.
More footsteps. The clinking of armor. Doors creaking open.
Arthur's vision started to fade again. The exhaustion wasn't natural. It was like something was pushing him under.
The last thing he saw was the girl—his twin—being lifted into Merlin's arms.
Then nothing.
Just darkness. And the whisper of something deep in his soul beginning to stir.
He didn't know where he was. He didn't know what was happening. And he definitely didn't know who he was supposed to become.
But he knew one thing:
This world wasn't just stories anymore.