Reese blinked his eyes open, and the first thing he noticed was the suffocating warmth of a cramped, unfamiliar space. It felt like being stuck in a small, suffocating box. His limbs were pinned down, and he was feeling something wet and warm against his skin. He couldn't move—couldn't breathe properly. Panic rose in his chest. What the hell?
Then, there was pain. A sharp, agonizing pressure building in his chest, like he was being squeezed from the inside out. His stomach twisted in knots, and for a split second, he thought he was back in the slums—back to that moment where he had collapsed, starved and broken. His body had been weak, and his heart had given up.
Wait, what?
Reese tried to move, but his body wasn't cooperating. He couldn't feel his limbs clearly, couldn't focus on what was happening. His thoughts were a blur.
And then, the pressure exploded. The pain reached a fever pitch before something gave way. His body jerked violently, and for a brief, terrifying moment, Reese thought he might pass out from the shock.
Suddenly, a loud cry broke the silence—his own.
"Waaaaaaah!"
The sound was so loud and raw that it made his throat feel raw, but it didn't stop. A baby's cry. His cry. As the noise echoed through the air, Reese felt a strange shift in his senses, a strange feeling of rebirth. His lungs gasped in air, and the warmth around him turned into something new—cooler, more breathable. Slowly, the pressure around his body released. The cramped space he was in seemed to expand, and his mind began to clear.
What the hell just happened? Reese thought, the haze slowly fading away. He felt his chest rise and fall, and the air was so clean and fresh it almost made him dizzy.
That's when he realized. I'm not dead anymore. The slums were gone. His death by starvation, the cold, lonely streets—gone. What the hell? He wasn't in the slum anymore. The suffocating air was gone, replaced by something that smelled faintly of lavender and fresh linen. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but his senses felt sharper than before. He felt... new.
The sounds around him were muffled, but he could hear soft voices—adult voices, speaking in soothing tones. The kind of voices a parent might make when comforting a child.
"Look at him," a woman said. "Our boy is finally here."
A man's voice followed, deeper and warm. "He's handsome, Adelina. Just like me."
Wait, what? Reese's brain scrambled to process what was happening, but everything was happening so fast. He was confused, disoriented. He could barely register the fact that someone was talking about him—the "boy." But the way they said it felt... off.
No, not off. Wrong.
A strange feeling washed over him. Something wasn't right. He knew something had shifted—his memories felt scrambled, distant, like pages torn out of a book he hadn't finished reading. He was being reborn, sure, but this felt like more than that. He had died and now, somehow, he was alive again. But the oddest thing was the sensation that he didn't belong here, in this moment, with these people.
A soft hand brushed his cheek, and he felt warmth spread through his body. A woman's voice whispered near him again. "Reese, you've made us so happy."
A few moments later, the sensation of someone lifting him up made Reese tense. He instinctively fought it, but his body was too weak—too small. He couldn't move.
It was as if his mind was moving faster than his body. He was in a new body. He knew that much. But the sensation was so strange, so foreign, that he felt like he was floating. His thoughts felt jumbled, as if he was in a strange in-between world.
It wasn't until the next few minutes that Reese could make out some more coherent details. The voices surrounding him had a soft, melodic quality to them, like the kind of lullaby his old self might've imagined in some deep, desperate sleep.
Then, he caught the name they were calling him again.
"Reese. Reese, my boy."
A lump formed in his throat. That name. It felt like a weight on his chest, a name that didn't belong to him. It was just a name they had chosen, a name that didn't fit.
Reese barely had time to process it before he felt himself being laid gently on a soft surface. A crib, he realized, though he couldn't understand how he knew that. He had been through the slums, lived in those hellholes. Now, he was here, surrounded by these soft, unfamiliar sounds and the scent of a place that felt too perfect.
"Let him rest," the woman, who he guessed was his mother, said softly.
Her voice was warm. This is insane.
It was at that moment that Reese's mind, desperate to grasp some semblance of understanding, forced the system interface to appear.
"Death's System—Reese's Status Update."
A cold, mechanical voice sounded in his mind, snapping his thoughts back into focus. The system. The Death's System.
Status Update.
---
[Reese's Status]
Name: Reese
Race: Human (Reincarnated)
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: 10/100
Skills:
[Basic Knowledge of Death]
[Rebirth's Perception] (Passive)
---
Reese's eyes snapped open, his tiny form still in that crib. The words hit him all at once. He was being reborn—reborn as Reese—with the Death's System.
This is my new life, huh? Reese thought, trying to wrap his head around the weight of it all. A damn fantasy world with a damn system?
For now, all Reese could do was wait. Wait and see what kind of life awaited him in this new world. He had no idea what the future held, but one thing was for sure: he wasn't going to live this life quietly.
He'd survive. He'd thrive. And if anyone dared stand in his way... well, he had a few tricks up his sleeve.
Reese's life, however strange and twisted, had just begun.