Darkness still encloses me, yet it feels somehow thinner, as if an unseen veil has grown increasingly fragile. Each day in this watery sanctuary has sharpened my senses and fortified my fragile body. Mother's heartbeat—my only constant—resonates closer now, thrumming with a heightened energy I've come to associate with anticipation. There's a tension in the air, an instinctive sense that change is coming.

Over the past days—or weeks, or however time flows here—I've maintained my disciplined routine: gentle mana cycling, guiding strands of elemental energy through my underdeveloped limbs to reinforce bone and muscle. My Omni Element Physique hums quietly whenever I layer Fire or Earth or Wind or Water within me; each element slips into place, neither clashing nor overwhelming the other. My mother's presence, the warmth of her life sustaining mine, has never been more precious. And yet, I sense she too is restless, her body preparing for the moment of my emergence.

A series of voices echoes beyond the womb's wall—stirred, urgent. It's not the first time I've felt heightened activity outside, but this time it carries a peculiar rhythm. I catch only muffled tones, but the roil of mana around them suggests important visitors or perhaps a midwife's preparations. In the hush that follows, there's a tender hum, a calming incantation drifting near. Mother's heartbeat races, then settles into a more measured pulse.

I close my eyes—though they've never truly opened in this dark—and extend my Mana Sense outward. This skill has matured over these final days, allowing me to perceive faint outlines: the curve of my mother's ribcage, the swirl of energy in her bloodstream, and even the flicker of distant elemental signatures. A subtle flick of thought, and my Status Window flickers to life, feeding me that comforting gold text:

Status Window

ID: ???

Talent: SSS-grade

Core Grade: Unawakened

Special Physique: Omni Element Physique

Level: 1

Strength: 2

Intelligence: 10

Spirit: 8

Agility: 1

Constitution: 2

Attribute Points: 0

Skills:

Mana Sense (Novice, Lv.1)

Nothing new. My Strength and Constitution remain modest—remarkable only in the sense that I'm still an unborn child. I allow myself a momentary pang of impatience: part of me craves the day those numbers will rise, forging this body into a vessel worthy of my memories. But that day draws near. Very near.

Letting the panel fade, I sink back into another slow cycle of mana cultivation. My synergy routine has become second nature now: a trickle of Earth for stability, Water to soothe, a swirl of Air to circulate, and Fire to kindle growth. I sense movement overhead—my mother's posture shifting, her breath hitching. A faint ache in her mana signature tells me she's bracing herself. My own chest tightens in empathy.

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A wave of mild diagnostic magic sweeps across the womb—a midwife's check, perhaps. The energy brushes my own spark, curious, then withdraws. I continue my practice, but each passing moment ramps the tension. It's like the final notes of a quiet song, building to a crescendo.

Abruptly, my world compresses. The fluid pushes me downward, and I realize: this must be it. The hush of labor, the culminating stage of my womb-bound existence. My mother's heartbeat hammers, laced with pain or determination—perhaps both. If I had more power right now, I'd send a comforting pulse of healing outward. But in this delicate phase, all I can offer is calm acceptance.

A second compression tightens around me, stronger this time. External voices escalate, footsteps move with urgency, but I can't parse more than muffled tones. Then I feel it: the womb's entrance loosening, the fluid draining around me, cold air slicing across my skin. My senses explode with stimuli. Mana Sense picks up a riot of energies—someone chanting supportive spells, a flickering hearth rune behind them, my mother's life force surging with final effort.

The pressure around my head intensifies. Instinct demands I give myself over to the force drawing me forth. Another wave of contractions, a rush of fluid, and then—I'm free. Air slaps my wet skin, the sudden chill stealing my breath. Light, for the first time, invades my awareness, even though my eyes barely open. A hand, gentle yet firm, grips me, lifting me into the open.

Sound erupts in a cacophony: rustling cloth, anxious murmurs, my mother's ragged breathing. My lungs spasm, instinctively craving air. I gasp—then cry, an involuntary wail that resonates in this chamber. Everything is new, loud, overwhelming. My entire being trembles with the shock of transition: from watery darkness to brilliant life.

The midwife's voice coos somewhere above me, sweet relief in her tone. My mother's arms reach out, trembling but insistent, and I'm placed against her chest. Her heart gallops still, but the boundless love in her aura wraps me like a cloak. I squint at shifting shapes overhead—people moving with hushed excitement. A deeper voice, likely my father's, resounds from behind, marveling at the scene.

Exhaustion crushes my newborn lungs. The air tastes harsh, my body unready for such sensations. Mana Sense falters under the onslaught of unfiltered stimuli. Yet in that swirl of newness, my mother's warmth steadies me, letting me cling to her heartbeat as I once did in the womb.

Time slows. The commotion recedes, replaced by relief and whispered congratulations. My father kneels beside Mother, and though I can't make out his face clearly, I feel the gratitude in his shaky breath. Then, in a voice choked with emotion, he names me:

"He shall be called Kael... Kael Ashborne."

The words ring through my ears like a distant echo, reverberating in my soul. Kael. My name. A name I never knew in the womb, but one I recognize now as the bridge between my old life and this new beginning. The delicate hush in the room makes every syllable resonate.

Some corner of my mind locks onto it: Kael. So that is who I am in this life. Weak and tiny as I may be at this moment, I carry within me the echoes of another era. My vow hardens: I will repay these parents' love, safeguard them from the shadows that lurk beyond. Even if the world has changed, and no matter what powers lie in wait, I will grow to protect them all.

Cradled in my mother's arms, lulled by her slowing heart, I let my eyelids droop. My father—though I can't see him well—leans close, voice trembling with awe, repeating, "Kael... Our precious son..." The hush that follows is warm, brimming with emotion. Finally, it is done: I have left the womb behind and entered Aurelia anew, with a family, a name, and a second chance.

I breathe in shallow gasps, my tiny fists relaxing against Mother's chest. The midwife utters a gentle blessing, and the overhead lamplight glows in soft, runic patterns. Others fuss around us—cleaning, offering cloth and quiet exclamations of relief—but to me, only Mother's presence stands out. Her arms hold me as if I am a treasure beyond measure. In that fragile moment, I remember everything—my past life's regrets, the power that once scoured demons from the land, the knowledge locked away in my soul—and I swear I will use it wisely.

Allowing a wave of drowsiness to overtake me, I nestle closer. I am Kael now. The first light of the world is shockingly bright, but through it, I sense a future where I can harness both the joys of family and the burdens of destiny. The womb's darkness is behind me; the next chapter unfolds in open air, with endless horizons and uncharted roads. And though fatigue claims me, I drift into rest with fierce determination: to grow, to protect, and to one day stand tall against any threat that would harm the people who named me Kael.