07:13 a.m.
Apartment No. 13, 2nd Floor, Seraphine City.
The morning air slipped through a slightly open window, carrying with it a bone-chilling cold and the faint stench of exhaust fumes from the streets below. The sun was still reluctant to shine, hidden behind gray clouds hanging low over the city.
Inside the cramped apartment, silence echoed. The wooden floor creaked softly every time the wardrobe door swayed in the breeze. A pair of worn leather shoes lay crooked near the entrance, as if recently kicked off in a hurry. Pale light from outside failed to dispel the shadows that clung stubbornly to the room.
The kitchen was in a pitiful state. A frying pan with burnt oil residue sat untouched on the stove—who knew since when. The stale smell of rancid grease mixed with rotting food scraps filled the air, creating a stifling atmosphere that clung to the tiny space. The sink was nearly overflowing with piles of dirty dishes and glasses, as if time had stopped along with the owner's will to live.
The bedroom door was only half open, revealing a glimpse of chaos—books strewn across the floor, scattered notes, clothes heaped carelessly in corners. Amid it all, a thin mattress sat, the only thing that resembled shelter.
Upon it, a young man lay still. His hair was a mess, his breathing heavy and labored, like someone who had marched for miles without rest. His eyes remained tightly shut, brows furrowed. His sleep was not peaceful—it was an escape. A desperate flight from a world that no longer allowed him to breathe.
"Every day... morning, noon, night... nonstop work. Only three hours of sleep. No time off allowed. If this keeps up, I..."
His words trailed off. He tried to get up, but his body resisted.
"Why... why can't I move...?"
Panic crept in. He tried raising an arm—nothing. Willed his legs to move—no response. His entire body felt as though it were pinned down by invisible weights, as if gravity had increased tenfold just for him.
And suddenly—
Crying.
Shrill. Sharp. Piercing through his ears and consciousness.
"Crying...? A baby?"
Cold sweat dampened his temple. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt sealed shut. The crying grew louder, echoing in his mind like a voice in an empty cave.
"My eyes... why can't I open them? What's happening to me!?"
Gradually, light seeped into the darkness. His pupils began to open—not by his own will, but as if pushed by some external force. A warm yet blinding light greeted his vision.
A blurry silhouette approached.
"There, there... hush now, Arius. Don't cry, sweetheart."
The voice was soft, warm, calming… and unfamiliar. Yet, somehow, it stirred something deep within him. His consciousness was pulled up from the depths of a dream, touching upon a reality that felt strange and unfamiliar.
"Who is she...? What's going on...? Where am I?"
The room around him was unlike his old apartment. Lantern light hung from a straw ceiling, casting a golden-orange hue. The wooden walls were carved with intricate ancient patterns. The scent of burnt wood and dried leaves filled the air—a different world altogether. Quieter. Simpler. More... real.
He shifted. His body felt strange. Small. Weak. Light. He tried to raise a hand—and saw a tiny hand, with soft fingers and baby skin.
"T-this hand… these feet… a baby's body…?"
"How am I here…?"
Panic turned into full-blown chaos. This wasn't his body. This wasn't his place. This wasn't… his life.
"There, there… no more crying now. Come here, let mommy hold you," said the woman, gently lifting his tiny body.
"M-mom…?"
He screamed in his mind.
"My mother is long gone… Then who is she?"
She picked him up, wrapping his small body in a soft cloth, and carried him out of the room.
Through the doorway, he saw more of the old-fashioned home—shelves lined with glass jars, dried flowers, and worn leather-bound books. The chirping of birds drifted in from outside, and a fresh breeze carried the scent of damp earth and wildflowers.
"T-this... this isn't Seraphine City. A village...? Why am I here...? Wasn't I just asleep?"
His heart pounded. He panicked—like someone thrown into an unknown jungle without direction or compass. His eyes scanned every corner of the unfamiliar place.
A rustic wooden home, filled with the scent of earth and dust. Hanging lanterns replaced modern lights, casting a warm glow that swayed with the breeze. Swords lined the wall in neat rows, as if waiting for their owner's return. A silent stone fireplace stood in the corner, firewood stacked neatly, untouched.
From a small window, he glimpsed the outside world—endless grasslands glistening with morning dew. Everything was foreign, yet too vivid to be a dream.
"This isn't a dream... it's not an illusion..."
Questions and wild thoughts flooded his mind. It felt like the beginning of one of those fantasy novels he often read.
"Reincarnation...? But don't you have to die first, or get summoned? And even then, you usually keep your body... But I... I'm a baby? I wasn't even dead. I was healthy... wasn't I?"
The questions kept piling up, crashing down one by one. But no answers came. No clarity. Only one conclusion seemed remotely plausible—he had truly been transported to another world.
A soft voice broke through his thoughts.
"Let's go outside, Arius."
The woman smiled down at him, warm and gentle. She cradled him with genuine affection—claiming to be his mother, and oddly enough, her embrace felt so peaceful.
They stepped through a heavy wooden door. The morning air greeted them with a purity unknown in the modern world. A simple wooden fence enclosed the yard. Some of the boards were crooked, worn by time.
Green grass swayed in the wind. Leaves floated gently down from the trees. And in the sky, strange winged creatures danced among the clouds—beings he had never seen before.
"Whoa... amazing... this is so real…"
His eyes widened. All the anxiety from before slowly melted into awe and wonder.
"My world never had creatures like that. This... this isn't the same place."
The panic subsided. His mind cleared. He could think—and for a moment, even felt relieved.
"If I really have been reincarnated, maybe that's not a bad thing. No more work. Maybe... I can live in peace here."
The woman spoke again, her voice like morning dew.
"Come, Arius, let's take a walk."
They followed a neatly laid dirt path. Pebbles lined the edges in an irregular pattern. Mossy brick houses stood in tidy rows, welcoming him to a new world. In the distance, green hills embraced small farms, the scenery tranquil and serene.
The wind brushed his face, carrying the scent of wet grass. Laughter of children echoed faintly. This world felt... alive.
His eyelids grew heavy. The gentle rhythm of the woman's footsteps and the sway of her embrace lulled him into sleep. He leaned against her shoulder—content, as if he had always belonged here.
"Arius...? Already asleep?" she said with a soft smile. "Alright then, let's go home."
Back at the house, she laid his tiny body into a wooden crib with rounded rails. The lantern in the corner flickered, casting its last light, leaving behind a warm afterglow.
She gazed at his sleeping face, then gently brushed his hair.
"Good night, my little Arius."
She kissed his forehead before extinguishing the light.
Night fell softly, accompanied by the distant chirping of insects.