The soul drifted in an endless abyss, drowning in a darkness that clung to him.

After endless time, from somewhere within that void, a faint warmth stirred, blooming brighter until it became a blinding light, swallowing him whole.

He felt himself rising, drawn towards the light that seeped through every fiber of his being. The suffocating darkness gave way, and with a sudden surge, he broke free.

The world greeted him with a cacophony of strange sounds and an overwhelming brightness that stung his senses. Rough hands lifted him gently, cradling his tiny body with practiced ease. The nurse’s face hovered above him, her expression softening as she examined him.

“It’s a boy,” she murmured, though her brow creased in puzzlement. She glanced down, noting the silence that followed. There was no cry, no frantic movement—just an unwavering, dark gaze that fixed on her, as if the newborn were studying her, reading her.

A ripple of confusion crossed her face. She had seen countless births, yet none like this. The baby's eyes held something old, something unfathomable.

'What just happened?' he wondered, his mind whirling in a daze.

Then, a raw, searing pain washed over him, racing through every fragile nerve, reminding him of the vulnerability of this new, fragile form. The shock tore through his tiny body, and his mouth opened in an instinctive, piercing wail.

The nurse, startled, took a step back, her expression blank as she stared down at the baby.

Some time had passed, the bustling quieted, and the room filled with a softer kind of silence.

Two faces, pale with awe and the exhaustion of waiting, hovered over the child. The woman lay on the bed, her dark hair fanning across the pillow, a sheen of sweat still glistening on her forehead. She looked weary, yet her gaze softened as it settled on her son, resting peacefully in the cradle of her arms.

Beside her stood a man with a tousle of blonde hair and kind blue eyes, watching the baby intently, as though trying to decipher something beyond what he saw. Max, the father, reached over, brushing his fingertips gently against the infant’s cheek.

“He looks exactly like Yumiko,” Max murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The boy’s dark eyes flickered up, an expression far too focused for a newborn.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Next to him stood a woman with similar blonde hair, her belly rounded with the late stages of pregnancy. Sayuri tilted her head, studying her nephew’s face, her eyes narrowing slightly as though caught in the throes of some familiar memory.

"Yes but, his face…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “His face resembles you, Bro.”

Max leaned closer, his gaze warm as he looked between the baby and his sister.

“You know, Sayuri, you should name him,” Max said, grinning. “You’ve always had a knack for names.”

Sayuri’s eyes widened slightly, a soft laugh escaping her. “Me? Isn’t that your job?” she teased, glancing at Yumiko, who lay watching them both with a faint smile.

“No,” Yumiko murmured, her voice gentle. “I like the idea. What do you think, Sayuri?”

Sayuri’s hand rested briefly on her own belly, her eyes thoughtful as she looked at the baby once more, trying to see beyond that calm stare, as if searching for the name already etched in his soul.

“Ryuuen,” she said finally, almost as if the name had come from somewhere beyond her. “A dragon flame.”

Yumiko’s smile deepened, and she nodded, whispering the name to herself as though tasting it on her lips.

“Ryuuen,” she repeated softly, looking down at her son. “A fitting name for someone who looks like he’s carrying a whole world within those eyes.”

Sayuri's gaze sharpened as she looked down at the baby, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She leaned in, pointing gently at the center of his tiny chest.

“I’ve been thinking… Look here,” she murmured, tracing the outline of a dark mark. It was faint but unmistakable—a shape etched into his skin, as if branded by something beyond human understanding. Three eyes, each one open wide, stared back from his chest.

Max’s brows furrowed as he leaned down, curiosity flaring in his eyes. He carefully lifted Ryuuen, cradling him closer to inspect the unusual mark. His lips quirked in a small, bewildered smile.

“Maybe it’s just a birthmark,” he said, though his tone was uncertain, as though trying to convince himself. The mark had an unsettling precision, too deliberate to seem accidental.

Sayuri shook her head slowly. “Or maybe… it’s a stigma,” she said softly, her gaze growing distant.

Max looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “A stigma?” he asked. “I don’t know… no stigma I’ve ever seen looks like that.” He turned his attention back to the mark, running his thumb lightly along the skin around it, the three eyes seeming to almost stare back at him, eerie and knowing.

“It’s… three eyes,” he added, a strange tone slipping into his voice.

As his parents’ voices faded into the background, Ryuuen’s mind was suddenly pulled into a memory. It was the image of a dark goddess, he remembred her gaze, two eyes fierce and all-seeing. But set upon her forehead, was the third eye.

The soft rustle of fabric and a quiet knock broke the moment. The nurse had returned, her expression gentle yet firm as she looked at Max and Sayuri.

“Please, let the patient rest now,” she whispered, motioning for them to step back.

Max cast a final glance at Ryuuen, his face unreadable, before nodding at Sayuri. The two exchanged a look, a silent agreement, and quietly left the room. As the door clicked shut, the nurse adjusted Ryuuen’s blanket.