The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and fried food from a nearby street vendor, blending into an oddly nostalgic scent that clung to the warm summer breeze. The city hummed with life—cars honked impatiently at slow pedestrians, a dog barked somewhere in the distance, and the faint melody of a street musician’s guitar drifted through the air. The sun hung high, casting long shadows that wavered with every step.

Yuuta trudged along the cracked sidewalk, his heavy frame weighing down each step. His navy-blue t-shirt clung uncomfortably to his round stomach, sweat forming at the base of his neck. His messy brown hair, unkempt and too long, nearly covered his dark green eyes, forcing him to push it back every so often just to see where he was going. Freckles dusted his cheeks, barely visible under the sheen of sweat. He wasn’t in a rush, but the oppressive heat made him wish he could just teleport to his destination instead of suffering through this walk.

As he wiped his forehead with the back of his pudgy hand, a shrill scream cut through the noise of the city. His head snapped up in time to see a little girl, no older than five, sprinting across the street, her tiny arms flailing as she chased after a bright red ball that had rolled out of her grasp. A large white truck barreled toward her, its tires screeching against the asphalt as the driver slammed on the brakes. But it wasn’t going to stop in time.

Her mother’s voice was raw with terror. "No! Get out of the street!"  

Yuuta didn’t think. His legs moved before his mind caught up, and he dashed forward, his weight making his movements clumsy but determined. He reached the girl in time, shoving her forward onto the sidewalk just as the truck bore down on him. The sound of the horn rang in his ears, drowning out the world.  

At the last possible second, he twisted his body, barely dodging the massive vehicle as it sped past, the rush of wind nearly knocking him off balance. He stood there for a moment, panting, hands on his knees, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs. The mother rushed over, scooping the little girl into her arms, tears streaming down her face.  

"Thank you! Oh my god, thank you!" she said breathlessly, her voice shaking with relief. “You saved her!”

Yuuta just gave a small nod, still catching his breath, before turning away and continuing down the sidewalk like nothing had happened. 

‘Still nothing…’ 

But something gnawed at the back of his mind.  

As he reached another intersection, the sound of an engine revving up made his skin prickle. He glanced to the side.  

Another white truck.  

It was coming fast. Too fast.  

"Are you kidding me?!" he muttered, eyes widening. He barely managed to throw himself out of the way, stumbling onto the pavement as the truck roared past, missing him by mere inches. His pulse pounded in his ears.  

“Tch! Asshole almost hit me!”

‘Am I being targeted or something?’

Shaken, he picked himself up and started walking faster, his chubby legs struggling to keep up with the growing sense of unease curling in his stomach. The city was still bustling, people going about their day as if nothing insane had just happened.  

Then, as he reached another block, the sound of another engine roaring to life sent a chill down his spine.  

Another white truck.  

“Shit!”

It came out of nowhere, speeding toward him at an unnatural angle. "What the hell?!" he yelped, diving to the side just in time. The truck missed him by a hair, its side mirror nearly clipping his shoulder.  

His breathing was ragged now. His legs burned.  

‘This isn’t normal!’

He started running.  

His sneakers slapped against the pavement as he bolted down the street, weaving through pedestrians who gave him confused glances. His heart pounded, his breath came in short gasps, and sweat dripped down his forehead.  

‘This can’t be happening…!’

Then—another truck.  

From a street that didn’t even have an opening.  

It swerved toward him at an unnatural speed, its headlights glaring like the eyes of a predator locked onto its prey. Yuuta barely had time to react—he ducked low, the truck passing so close over him that he could feel the heat of the engine against his back.  

"What is happening?!" he shouted, his voice cracking with panic.  

Tears pricked at his eyes as he kept running. "I don’t wanna die! I finally got a job today!" he cried, his breathing ragged.  

But the trucks weren’t done.  

Another one came from a side alley that was way too narrow for a vehicle of that size. He twisted his body, barely avoiding it, but the side of the truck scraped against his arm, tearing through his sleeve and leaving a stinging gash in its wake. He hissed in pain but didn’t stop.  

His lungs burned, his legs screamed at him to stop, but he couldn’t.  

Finally, he reached an open plaza, a wide space free of vehicles. He gasped for air, bending over with his hands on his knees. Maybe—maybe he was safe now.  

“Ha…ha….is someone after me?”

Then, with a deafening crash, a white truck fell from the sky.

It plummeted from an office building, slamming into the pavement just inches from where he stood. The ground shook, debris flying in every direction.  

“Impossible!”

Yuuta slowly stood up, his entire body trembling. Blood trickled down his arm. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps. His vision swam, his mind barely processing what had just happened.  

Then, he let out a weak, nervous laugh, his lips curling into an anxious, almost delirious smile.  

"I'm dead," he whispered, the words barely leaving his mouth.  

And then—  

A final white truck appeared out of nowhere.  

Before he could even move, it hit him at full speed.  

Everything went black.

…

…

…

Darkness.  

Yuuta could feel himself still running... His legs burned, his lungs screamed for air, and the city around him blurred into streaks of neon and headlights. The trucks—they kept coming, their horns blaring, their monstrous white frames lunging at him from impossible angles. One from the sky, one from an alley too small for a vehicle, one from behind—his vision swam with light, screeching tires, and deafening impact.  

Then—nothing.  

The world collapsed inward, folding in on itself like a crumpled piece of paper, and Yuuta felt himself falling.  

Falling…

And more falling...  

His body was weightless, yet he could still feel the phantom ache in his legs, the scrape on his arm, the terror in his chest. The city lights melted into a swirl of color, streaks of white and red and gold spiraling around him like a fever dream. The honking of trucks distorted into something unrecognizable, fading into whispers, then silence.  

And then—warmth.  

A strange, encompassing warmth wrapped around him, pulling him into something softer, something safe. It was like floating in a calm sea, the waves lulling him into stillness, the terror ebbing away. His mind swam in a haze, no longer running, no longer falling, just… existing.  

Slowly, blearily, he opened his eyes.  

The first thing he saw was a soft glow, firelight flickering against wooden walls. His vision was blurry, unfocused, and for a brief moment, he thought he was still dreaming—until he saw them.  

A man and a woman.  

The woman, her face flushed and damp with sweat, had long, flowing peach-white hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her light gray eyes shimmered, brimming with tears as she gazed down at him with pure, unfiltered joy. The man beside her, rugged and broad-shouldered, had dark red hair tied back in a loose small ponytail and a matching red beard. His eyes light brown, were warm, filled with emotion as he looked at her, then at Yuuta—no, at him.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

They were… holding him.  

And they were crying.  

"He’s here," the woman whispered, her voice thick with emotion.  

"He’s perfect," the man added, his deep voice trembling.  

Yuuta blinked. His mind, sluggish and foggy, tried desperately to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. The way they held him so gently, the sheer joy radiating from them, the way the woman clutched the man’s hand as if grounding herself in this moment. 

‘….Huh? A dream…? Did I even get the job…?’

Then the words hit him like a freight truck.  

"Kaelis," the man murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "Our son. Kaelis."  

Yuuta’s breath hitched. ‘Kaelis? Who are they calling Kaelis? That’s definitely not my name—.’

His name was—  

‘Hold the hell up. Why are my hands so small?!’’

His vision sluggishly turned downward, his tiny fingers barely responding to his commands. His hands—if he could even call them that—were chubby, soft, and impossibly little. And there, on his left hand, was something strange.  

A dark gray birthmark.  

Yuuta—or Kaelis—stared at it in absolute bewilderment. Birthmarks weren’t usually gray, right? His mind scrambled for logic, for a reason, but nothing made sense.  

This had to be a dream. A weird, vivid, post-truck-trauma dream or something.

‘This feels too real.’

The warmth of the fire, the gentle weight of the blanket wrapped around him, the sheer immersion of it all—it wasn’t fading like a dream should.  

His tiny heart pounded.  

His breathing hitched.  

‘What. Is. Happening?!’

His parents—no, these people—continued to adore him, completely oblivious to his existential crisis. The woman, Zekka, cradled him close, pressing soft kisses to his forehead while murmuring sweet nothings. The man, Gunthr, chuckled deeply, his large hand gently rubbing his back.  

Yuuta sat there, frozen in their arms, his mind screaming while his body—his baby body—refused to do anything but be lovingly coddled.  

"This… this isn’t real," he tried to say.  

What came out was:  

"Gaaaahh! Baaaah!”

‘I sound like a baby!’

Zekka gasped, her eyes shimmering. "Did you hear that, dear? He’s already trying to talk!"  

Gunthr’s chest rumbled with laughter. "A strong voice, just like his father."  

Yuuta’s metaphorical soul left his body.  

“No. No, you don’t understand. I’m not a baby. I’m a seventeen-year-old who just got annihilated by an army of homicidal white trucks!” He tried to say.

What really came out: "Guh! Mmmh! Agh!"  

"Oh, he’s so expressive!" Zekka cooed, nuzzling his tiny nose.  

Gunthr nodded, his beard twitching as he grinned. "A passionate one, for sure!"  

‘I’m gonna lose my damn mind!’ Yuuta screamed in his head. ‘Haha! I’ll wake up any moment now! I’m just going crazy!’

His tiny fingers clenched around the blanket as he tried to process everything. The medieval-looking wooden cabin, the flickering firelight, the unmistakable sense of something else in the air. There was a presence here, something lingering, something alive in a way he had never felt before.  

It was like the very air pulsed with energy, something unseen but felt.  

‘What’s this weird feeling? Feels alive. Like it’s all over the place..’

His brain was breaking.  

"This isn’t possible!" he tried to scream.  

What they heard was:  

"Bwaaah! Gaaah! Pfffft!"  

Zekka gasped. "Oh, Gunthr, did you hear that? He’s so cute!"  

Gunthr wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Our son is already speaking the language of warriors."  

Yuuta internally screamed.  

He needed to get out of here. He needed answers. He needed to wake up. Something!

Desperate, he turned to Gunthr, the towering red-haired man whose giant hands could probably crush a boulder. He narrowed his tiny baby eyes, lifted his chubby fist, and bit down on Gunthr’s finger with all the fury of a man wronged by the universe itself.  

‘Die! Old hoot!’

Gunthr blinked.  

Then he laughed.

A booming, hearty laugh that rattled Yuuta’s entire tiny body.  

Zekka chuckled, brushing a hand through Yuuta’s soft hair. "Oh, he’s going to be a strong one, isn’t he?"  

Yuuta’s tiny body trembled in sheer, unfiltered rage.  

"You dare mock me?!" he squeaked.  

Translation: "Goo! Bwah!"  

Gunthr and Zekka melted.  

"He’s perfect," Zekka whispered, leaning into Gunthr’s shoulder.  

Gunthr nodded, still grinning. "Absolutely perfect."  

Yuuta—no, Kaelis—sat there, fuming, trapped in the body of a helpless infant, while his new parents coddled him with overwhelming love.  

Yuuta—no, Kaelis—was losing his mind.  

His tiny limbs flailed with frustration as Zekka and Gunthr continued to fawn over him, completely unaware of the existential horror crashing through his brain like a stampede of rabid horses. The warm glow of the fire, the rustic wooden walls, the heavy scent of burning wood and something herbal in the air—it was all too vivid, too real.  

‘This isn’t a dream….’

His breath came quicker, or at least, as quick as a baby’s body would allow. His small chest rose and fell, his tiny fingers twitching with nerves. He had to do something—anything—to prove to himself that this wasn’t reality. Maybe if he moved, maybe if he crawled, maybe if he just—  

His body wobbled.  

Then he fell.

The world tilted, and for a horrifying moment, his stomach lurched as gravity took hold.  

Panic exploded in his mind.  

‘No! I’m gonna die again!’

The terror was instant and absolute, every cell in his body screaming as the floor seemed to rush toward him. His baby reflexes were useless—he had no strength, no coordination, nothing to stop himself. He braced for impact, for pain, for another round of getting obliterated and waking up in yet another crazy world—  

But then—  

He stopped.

No impact. No pain.  

Just… stillness.  

His breath hitched.  

Something was holding him—but there was no hand, no physical force he could see. Instead, there was a sensation. A strange, foreign, almost invisible, a liquid-like feeling wrapping around his tiny body, suspending him in midair. It wasn’t solid, yet it wasn’t formless either. It was everywhere—in the air, in his skin, in the very space around him.  

It was like gravity itself had shifted, bending to something unseen, something he could feel but not understand.  

His heartbeat thundered in his ears.  

‘What is this?’

The realization hit him like a cold shock to the spine.  

This was the same sensation he’d felt earlier. That strange, lingering presence in the air—like the world itself was alive, humming with energy. He could feel it now, clearer than before, wrapping around his tiny frame, cradling him like invisible hands.  

It wasn’t just air.  

It was something else.

Something real.

His baby body trembled. His mind, despite its 17 year old consciousness, struggled to grasp what was happening. It was like touching water for the first time and realizing it could flow through your fingers—except this wasn’t water. It was something more fundamental, more intrinsic to the world itself.  

Then, just as quickly as it happened, the sensation shifted—  

And actual hands caught him.  

Zekka's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to her chest in a protective embrace. The warmth of her skin, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—it was grounding, bringing him back from the surreal moment of weightlessness.  

"Oh, my little Kaelis," she breathed, holding him tight. "You scared me!"  

Gunthr chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched the scene unfold. "Only a few minutes old, and he’s already throwing himself around. Reckless little thing, aren’t you?"  

Yuuta—Kaelis—barely heard them. His tiny fingers curled slightly, his mind still reeling from what had just happened. His entire body remembered the sensation of that strange force, that energy that had surrounded him. It was still there, lingering in the air, in the space around him, in *him.*  

He didn’t know how, and he sure as hell didn’t know why, but one thing was now painfully clear—  

This world had magic.  

And it had just saved his life.  

His wide eyes flickered between Zekka and Gunthr, still frozen in shock, his tiny baby brain struggling to process it all.  

Zekka smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Shh, you’re safe," she murmured. "You have to be more careful, little one."  

Gunthr let out another deep laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "If he’s this wild already, we’re in for trouble when he actually learns how to walk."  

Kaelis just stared, his tiny body still tense, his mind running in a thousand directions.  

He had been reborn. His name was now Kaelis. He had parents who clearly adored him. And now, on top of all that insanity, he had just felt magic with his own body.  

‘What kind of world did I end up in?’

His tiny lips parted, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak.  

Gunthr and Zekka melted.  

"Aww, he’s still talking!" Zekka gushed.  

Gunthr grinned. "That’s my boy!"  

Kaelis internally screamed.  

The warmth of their embrace should have meant something. 

‘Why don’t I feel anything?’

Kaelis blinked, his breath catching for just a moment as he sat there, unmoving. Their arms wrapped around him, their voices filled with love—yet all he felt was the weight of it. Nothing else.  

‘Warmth.’

‘It’s everywhere. Pressing into me, wrapping around me, sinking into my skin. It should mean something. Shouldn’t it? They’re happy. I can hear it in their voices, feel it in the way they hold me. My mother’s arms are trembling, but she won’t let go. My father’s voice cracks when he says my name—Kaelis. Their son. Their child.’

‘But I don’t feel it. Not the way I should. It’s there. Right in front of me. But it’s distant. Like a fire burning behind glass—close enough to see, too far to warm me. They love me. I know that much. So why does it feel like I’m watching it happen to someone else? It feels wrong..like I’ve taken the place of the baby that was supposed to be here. If they find out about me and what’s really happening, will they abandon me too? I feel like i'm an intruder of life that wasn’t meant for me..but I’m here.’

‘I used to think this was what I wanted. To be held, to be wanted. I saw families holding their children, saw the way they looked at them, like they were the most important thing in the world. I used to think—if I had that, maybe everything would be different. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I was drifting through life, like I was waiting for something that would never come. But now I’m here. And it still feels the damn same.’

‘Maybe love isn’t what makes people whole. Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong thing all along. My hands are small. Too small. I can barely curl my fingers, but I can still feel them trembling. I want to reach for something—something real, something that won’t slip through my fingers like this feeling, this warmth that isn’t mine. What else is there?’

‘Power?’

‘That’s real. That’s something I can hold, something I can carve into my own hands if I have to. If I have power, then it doesn’t matter if I don’t feel this warmth. It doesn’t matter if I don’t belong to it. If I’m strong enough, then nothing else will matter. Not the past. Not this hollowness. Not the feeling that I’m lost, grasping at something I’ll never reach. Just the thought of it..my heart is racing. It shouldn’t be, but it is.’

‘I won’t die. I refuse to.’

‘They’re so happy… so warm… but I’m not. I should be. Shouldn’t I? Isn’t this what I always wanted? To be held, to be wanted? I watched from a distance my entire life, seeing people laugh, seeing them cry, seeing them embrace. I thought if I had it too, maybe everything would be different. Maybe I’d finally feel whole. But I’m here, and it’s the same. That same hollowness. That same distance.’

‘Maybe love doesn’t fix people. Maybe I was never meant to belong. But now… now, there’s power.’

‘Real, tangible, living power. I don’t know what this world is called, don’t know what those strange forces are that I just felt, but they exist. Magic exists. I don’t care what it is—I’ll take it, claim it, make it mine. If this world has power, then I’ll carve it into myself until I am nothing like what I was before. That weak, pathetic excuse for a person—that worthless boy who trudged through life, pretending he didn’t care that he was born with nothing. I was never meant to be special. I knew that from the beginning.’

‘Dropped off at an orphanage before I was old enough to remember until I was told it happened, surrounded by kids just like me, yet I never felt like one of them. I should have—wasn’t I alone too?—but the feeling never came. Instead, there was only that gnawing, unbearable certainty that I didn’t belong there. That I didn’t belong anywhere. It wasn’t them that pushed me away—I was the one who left. I ran, searching for something, anything, that would tell me I wasn’t just a mistake. But I never found it. And the end did come, didn’t it?’

‘I should laugh, but I can’t. I did die. But I’m still here. And this world, whatever it is, has given me something. A second chance. I won’t waste it. I don’t know if I belong here either, but that doesn’t matter. I won’t just drift through this life like before, waiting for something that will never come. I will make something of myself. I guess I’ll carve my own worth into existence. I won’t die, not here, not ever. I will take what I was supposed to have. I will become something.’

‘But… what?’

‘Someone who belongs?’

‘Does it matter? Power is what matters. Power is real. Power is something I can hold, something that won’t leave me empty. I will become strong enough that nothing—not fate, not weakness, not my past—will decide what I am really meant for. If my past life was just a lie, if my past life was just a horrible dream…I refuse to be that worthless boy ever again.’

‘Will power fill that empty void in me..?’

His lips almost curled at the thought—his first real feeling since arriving here. It wasn’t warmth, it wasn’t comfort. It was excitement. He began to smile widely, rubbing his baby hands together.

‘I don’t know what love really is, but I know what power can be. I guess I'm Kaelis now. Yuuta is a name I’ll abandon forever.’

‘I’ll be unstoppable..!’