"I'm Felix, and I'm a chat support!!"
At least, that's what I meant to say. But instead, what came out was a series of incoherent baby babbles—a mix of gurgles and squeaks. No one could understand me, obviously, because I was a newborn, and my vocal cords were still figuring out how to exist in this new world.
But that didn't stop everyone from reacting. The doctor, the nurses, even my mom and dad—all of them froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. Apparently, a baby shouting nonsense was adorable.
"Look at him go!" the doctor chuckled, clearly amused by my attempts at communication. I was glad to be getting attention, but honestly, I wanted to be understood!
"Did you hear that?" my mother laughed, her face glowing with joy. She leaned down close to me, her voice full of warmth. "Already trying to talk, huh?"
Her face was the first I truly focused on. She had almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with a gentle brown hue, framed by long, dark lashes. Her nose was delicately shaped, slightly upturned at the tip, giving her an approachable and kind appearance. Soft, full lips curved into a radiant smile, and her cheeks had a natural rosy tint. A few strands of her chestnut-brown hair escaped from beneath the surgical cap, hinting at wavy locks that likely cascaded down her shoulders.
Then there was the man who had just walked in—my father. He couldn't stop grinning. "Guess we've got a little chatterbox on our hands already," he joked, reaching out to gently touch my hand.
His face was more angular, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones. Deep-set hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold, observed me with a mix of pride and wonder. His straight nose had a slight bump on the bridge, suggesting it might have been broken once, adding character to his rugged good looks. A well-groomed beard outlined his jaw and chin, peppered with a few strands of gray, hinting at wisdom and experience. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, giving him a relaxed yet confident demeanor.
I could only blink up at them, my tiny body squirming in the blanket they wrapped me in. They didn't get what I was trying to say, but I'd take it. I was already adorable, so I was off to a good start, right?
They handed me over to my mom, who cradled me gently. I was swaddled tight and warm. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, a proud, loving smile on her face. "You're here... you're really here."
For now, it felt like a dream. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever be able to get back to what I was really good at—chat support and problem-solving. But, for the time being, it looked like I was destined to be the world's cutest, babbling baby.
And honestly, I couldn't complain—literally.
••••••
And now, time to go home...
I couldn't believe it. There I was—wrapped in a blanket, swaddled up like a burrito, tucked safely into my mother's arms. The world outside felt distant, blurry, like I was still half-dreaming, trying to adjust to my new reality.
We were on a train. I could tell by the rhythmic sound of the wheels turning on the tracks, the hum of the engine. My mom, Marissa, held me close, and I could feel the warmth of her chest, her heartbeat soft and steady. I was beginning to get used to the feeling of being held by her, but something else kept me on edge. It was like a ripple in the air, a chill that crawled over my skin.
As the train started moving, my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the moment before everything went dark—before everything changed. The rush of the train, the blinding lights, the screeching sound of metal against metal. The moment I died.
Goosebumps prickled my baby skin, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. My tiny body tensed, and my little fists clenched instinctively. My heart pounded in my chest as if it remembered that night, that last choice I made. But as if by some magic, the terror faded—replaced by something... enchanting.
The train rattled on, its steady rhythm comforting, almost hypnotic.
And then I felt it—something pulling me back to the present.
The world outside the window.
I couldn't have been more fascinated if I tried.
The scenery was unlike anything I'd ever seen. It wasn't just a city; it was a future—a world I couldn't quite comprehend. The buildings were sleek and futuristic, rising tall with glowing edges and holographic displays shimmering in the daylight. Floating above them, I could see drones buzzing through the sky, some carrying packages, others gliding effortlessly in their endless dance through the air.
I was seeing a future—a blend of magic and technology. It was like I had slipped into a different reality—a world where everything felt so advanced, so alive, like it was humming with possibility. My little baby eyes darted back and forth, taking it all in. There were portals flickering to life on street corners, opening up to distant destinations—faster than a blink, they'd vanish into nothingness, only to reappear somewhere else. Cars zipped by on elevated roads, their engines silent, powered by some unseen force.
I could feel a sense of awe filling me, a wonder that was almost too vast for my tiny self to hold. My mind—no, my soul—recognized it. It was a dreamlike world, brimming with the promise of something new, something magical.
But amidst the wonder, something else clicked into place. My parents.
I turned my gaze toward them. My mother, Marissa, still cradled me in her arms. I could feel the warmth of her smile as she looked down at me, her eyes filled with love and joy. She had tears in her eyes, but not the sad kind—more like tears of pure happiness.
And then there was him—my father, Eduardo. He sat beside Marissa, gazing out the window at the dazzling world. His face softened in quiet contentment. He was the one who looked down at me with a smile that told me everything would be alright. My heart swelled a little at the thought.
I may have been a newborn, but my mind had already begun to piece things together. I'm not too sure, but my name remained Felix. Felix Drenched. The last name still felt like a strange, foreign thing, but somehow, it fit. It felt like it belonged to me, like it had always been mine.
The train slowed as we approached our destination. My tiny hands twitched and clenched again, my body reacting to the shift in motion, but I was no longer terrified. I wasn't alone. I had them, and this strange, beautiful new world around me.
It was as though I had been given another chance—a chance to see this life unfold, not as a chat support agent, not as a person racing against time, but as someone starting anew in a place filled with endless wonder.
I might have been a newborn,