A soft tremor ripples through the dark. I sense it as a subtle vibration along the curved wall of flesh enveloping me—a fleeting quiver of tension in Mother's body. It passes quickly, but in this warm, liquid world of muted sound and timeless twilight, even a small disturbance feels momentous. My awareness flickers in response, half expecting danger. Yet only a hush follows, punctuated by the slow, rhythmic beat of Mother's heart. Calm returns, and I let out a silent breath. I am safe here, held close by her living shelter. But the shift was enough to stir me from a deep lull, coaxing my mind to sharpen.

Time flows strangely in the womb, measured more by growth and internal changes than by sunrises or sunsets. Each day—if days even exist in this sealed cocoon—I feel my body solidifying. My limbs, once rudimentary, now bend and flex with greater purpose. My mana spark, that embryonic flicker of power in my chest, grows denser with each cycle of practice. I can almost envision it now: a faint orb suspended in the center of my being, swirling with colors that hint at the Omni-Element Physique hidden within. Fire's warmth tinges the edges in red; Water's cool grace shimmers in blue; Air's whisper outlines it in pale silver; Earth's solidity anchors it in ochre. They swirl but do not clash, each giving way to the other in a slow, patient dance.

I've spent what feels like countless hours refining this synergy. Often, I coax just a trickle of mana around my forming limbs to strengthen them, visualizing the muscle fiber weaving tighter. Other times, I experiment with weaving two elemental threads side by side—like Fire alongside Water—to see if they resist each other. To my amazement, they don't explode or recoil as they would have in my old body. It's as if each element respectfully makes room. This harmony calms me, reinforcing the notion that I have been gifted a physique beyond anything I knew as Aerion. That name—Aerion—still echoes in my memory, though I have no way of voicing it. In this life, I have yet to be named. My identity remains cocooned in potential, like the rest of me.

Today, or this moment in time, something feels different. The air—if it can be called that—in this womb carries a faint electric tension. My mana spark thrums in my chest, a gentle pulse that resonates with the outside world. It's not a threat; more like a subtle shift in the tapestry of magic around me. Intrigued, I focus inward, letting my senses drift beyond the comfort of my swirling core, reaching toward that intangible border where my body ends and Mother's begins. For a second, I catch a resonance—a distant echo of arcane energies. It reminds me of a diagnostic spell, like a skilled mage's gentle probe. Perhaps a midwife or a visiting sorcerer is checking on Mother's pregnancy, ensuring everything is healthy. The energies graze my own spark, curiously polite, then withdraw.

No sooner do those energies fade than a sudden brightness blooms behind my closed eyelids—a mental brilliance, not physical light. My heart flutters. This is new. The brightness resolves into patterns, fleeting lines of azure and gold that crisscross my mind, forming runic symbols that radiate familiarity. In my old life, I might have recognized them as fundamental structures of status and measurement spells. But here they come unbidden, scrawling across an inner canvas as if the world itself wants to show me something.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the swirl of runes condenses into a single frame of pale luminescence:

∗SYSTEM NOTIFICATION∗

A higher consciousness has been detected.Scanning mana signature…Initializing status window…

A sense of wonder rushes through me. A system? Some manner of world-sanctioned interface that quantifies a person's aptitudes and powers? From my decades of arcane study in my previous life, I know that certain spells or artifacts can measure talents—like the Tower of Truth or old scrying crystals—but this feels different. It is as though the very fabric of magic that permeates Aurelia is acknowledging me, overlaying a structured panel in my mind. My tiny heart pounds with excitement. Could it be that my reincarnation and my Omni-Element Physique have triggered a special phenomenon?

Another flare of azure light, and the runic lines rearrange themselves:

Status Window

ID: ???

Talent: SSS-grade

Core Grade: Unawakened

Special Physique: Omni Element Physique

Level: 1

Strength: 1

Intelligence: 10

Spirit: 8

Agility: 1

Constitution: 1

Attribute Points: 0

Skills: None

My breath catches—if I could draw breath in amniotic fluid, that is. SSS-grade talent. In my past life, I was heralded as a genius, but even so, I suspect my measured aptitude would have been a paltry A or S at best. SSS is the stuff of legends, the mark of individuals who can alter the course of history. And now, it's branded upon me like a silent vow from this new reality. A swirl of emotion—pride, gratitude, a faint undercurrent of anxiety—floods me. High talent draws attention, and attention draws envy or manipulation. But there's no turning back. This is the path fate has placed me on.

My eyes roam (or rather, my awareness roams) the rest of the status. Unawakened core is no surprise; the official ritual at age nine typically ignites a child's mana in Aurelia. Yet I already feel the bud of power within me. The system simply doesn't recognize my partial self-awakening in the womb. Level 1 stands out as well, a testament to how the world sees me: I am at the very beginning. Stats are minimal except for Intelligence (10) and Spirit (8). My mind from the past life must carry over in some intangible way. Strength, Agility, and Constitution languish at a single point each, underscoring my physical fragility. One swift gust in the outside world, and I'd probably be knocked flat—if I were out there now.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I note "Skills: None," a blank entry that belies the small techniques I've been practicing. Perhaps the system only registers recognized or formalized spells. My swirl-of-element practice might be too rudimentary to count, or maybe the system demands I officially learn them post-birth. Still, I sense something else behind the scenes, as if the seeds of those skills are lurking, waiting for the system to confirm them.

Before I can ponder further, a softer glow appears at the bottom:

∗SYSTEM NOTIFICATION∗

New Physique Detected: [Omni Element Physique].

Warning: Core Grade is currently [Unawakened]. Full potential is restricted until official awakening.

Then the golden text fades away like morning mist, leaving me once again in the gentle hush of the womb. I feel a tingling excitement in every tiny limb. So, this is how the world arranges knowledge: a "status window" that presumably updates as I grow. A structured reflection of my progress. In my old life, measuring personal skill was more about intuition and arcane discipline. Here, it's almost gamified—yet not precisely a game, more like a refined magical tool that the realm itself endorses.

Caution taps at my thoughts. While the system is a boon, it also means every increment of my growth may be tracked or trackable. If others can see or guess my stats, it might invite scrutiny. On the other hand, perhaps only I have direct access to these details. I decide to treat it as a personal secret until I learn otherwise. In a life that once ended battling cataclysmic forces, a hidden advantage can be a shield as well as a sword.

I let my awareness rest on those low physical stats. If I remain complacent, trusting solely in Intelligence and Spirit, I might hamper this body's evolution. Physical prowess once saved my life more times than I care to admit, especially when spells were disrupted or mana was exhausted. Even while unborn, I can direct mana to strengthen my budding muscles. A wry determination flares in me. If the system sees me as 1 in Strength, then I will push it to 2 and beyond, forging a body worthy of my soul.

Quietly, I channel a small loop of mana. I guide it into my forming bones, my embryonic muscles, encouraging them to adapt. There is a faint strain, a slight ache in my tissues—I must be careful. Overexertion could harm not only me but Mother as well. Gently, I weave the elemental flows: Earth for stability, Water to soothe, Air to quicken growth, Fire to spur vitality. A balancing act, each element used sparingly. My mind enters a calm focus, reminding me of those meditative states from my old training. The swirl intensifies just enough that I sense a tangible improvement. No immediate "System Notification" chimes—perhaps it takes consistent repetition over days or weeks. That is fine. Real strength is not earned in a single breath.

A memory surfaces from centuries gone—me as Aerion, lecturing a young apprentice on the importance of fundamental exercises. "We do not conjure starfire from the heavens before we learn to shape a single ember," I had told him. The roles reversed amuse me. Now I am the student again, building from the foundation—though with the mind of a grand magus. Destiny does love its ironies.

Time slips by in this practice. My mother shifts overhead; I sense her footsteps, perhaps traveling from one room to another. Vague echoes of conversation drift through, their meaning lost. My developing ears catch only the rise and fall of muffled tones. Yet I can glean she's not alone—there's another voice. Deeper, resonant, possibly my father in this new life. I can't decipher their words, but I sense warmth and affection. It spurs me onward, as though each gentle laugh they share is an affirmation that I should grow strong. Not for glory, but to protect the serenity they carry in their hearts.

I slip into a trance-like state, cycling mana through each limb, each cluster of fragile muscles, letting the swirl refine me. Minutes or hours later, a gentle ding resonates inside my head. My eyes—closed though they are—snap open in surprise.

∗SYSTEM NOTIFICATION∗

Your consistent practice has incrementally bolstered your physique.

Constitution has increased by +1.

A glow passes through me, and I feel a distinct surge of vigor. My body, still so small, feels slightly more… resilient. As if my cells themselves have adapted. Though I remain far from a warrior's strength, the difference is real. A faint laugh—silent, contained in this womb—bubbles up within me. If only my old friends and rivals could see me now, celebrating a single point in Constitution.

Curiosity compels me to summon the status window again. This time it appears with a simple mental call, a smooth wave of magic across my consciousness.

Status Window

ID: ???

Talent: SSS-grade

Core Grade: Unawakened

Special Physique: Omni Element Physique

Level: 1

Strength: 1

Intelligence: 10

Spirit: 8

Agility: 1

Constitution: 2 ← (updated)

Attribute Points: 0Skills: None

Sure enough, Constitution is now 2. A subtle victory, but a victory all the same. I dismiss the window with a gentle flick of thought. Waves of gratitude ripple through me—for the second life I've been granted, for the mother who nurtures me without knowing who I truly am, for the cosmic order that bestows such a clarifying system to help guide my growth. In the quiet that follows, I vow to use this gift responsibly. It would be easy to yield to arrogance, to chase unlimited power as my stats climb. But I recall all too well the horrors that can arise when hubris meets potent magic.

As my mother settles into stillness, presumably resting, I slip back into methodical training. Tiny arcs of elemental energy swirl around my forming bones, forging them stronger day by day. I will not remain weak. The next time the world faces a threat—be it a mortal war or an otherworldly cataclysm—I will stand ready. I refused to fail when I was Aerion, and I will refuse to fail again as… whoever this new life shapes me to become.

A gentle hush drapes over us both, mother and unborn child. The lullaby of her heartbeat resumes its calming chant. I let the day's new revelations settle. The System, the SSS-grade talent, the possibility of forging a path beyond mortal limits. A part of me still can't believe the blessing that is Omni Element Physique. Yet each breath (or each intangible echo of breath) reminds me it's real.

I allow myself to drift, half dozing in the watery cradle. Thoughts swirl around the future: learning to walk, to speak, to harness multi-element spells with full incantations. Attending the inevitable Awakening Ceremony that the system insists is critical. Meeting faces I don't yet know—Mother, Father, mentors, perhaps siblings. For now, though, I am content to remain in this hidden realm a little longer. Each day in the womb is a day to quietly gather strength, to train without the eyes of the world upon me.

My last conscious act for this chapter of life is to cycle mana once more, weaving a thin strand of Earth to anchor me, a swirl of Water to wash away weariness, a spark of Fire to invigorate my cells, and a breeze of Air to keep the flow light and balanced. The quiet synergy lulls me into a drowsy peace. Overhead, Mother shifts again, and I imagine she, too, finds solace in our unspoken bond.

In the hush of that final moment before sleep claims me, I silently thank the System for revealing the first glimpse of my path. Then darkness, warm and comforting, reclaims me. Tomorrow I will push forward again, each small step forging the foundation of the grand magus I once was—and will be once more. For all the arcs of destiny, this time, I will be ready.