Aldrich, a 17-year-old youth, was engrossed in his favorite video game, Legendary, a game he loved for its strategic depth and ever-evolving meta, after a long day at work.
The soft hum of his computer and the rhythmic clicking of his mouse filled the dimly lit room. His small apartment was cluttered but cozy, with posters of gaming tournaments adorning the walls and shelves stacked with figurines and tech gadgets.
Outside, the muffled sounds of passing cars provided a steady backdrop, lulling him into a sense of normalcy. Seated in his well-worn gaming chair, Aldrich meticulously adjusted the rune set for his champion, completely immersed in his preparations.
He muttered strategies under his breath when, without warning, a blinding flash of light engulfed the room. Before he could react, a deafening crash shattered the silence, sending a shockwave through the room and kicking up a cloud of dust that burned his throat.
A massive truck plowed through his apartment wall, obliterating everything in its path. The impact sent debris flying—his monitor shattered, glass and plaster rained down, and the world spun out of control. In the chaos, he barely had time for a single, resigned thought before darkness consumed him.
"Fuck."
Aldrich's consciousness stirred. Something was off. He was submerged in a dense, liquid-like environment, his body sluggish and unresponsive. The world around him felt warm and confined, his senses dulled yet oddly alert. His thoughts reeled as fragmented memories of the crash surfaced.
"Did I die? Is this hell?" he wondered, disoriented. "Or did I just unlock the world's worst respawn point?"
Straining to move, he realized his limbs felt weak—almost nonexistent. His surroundings were dark, save for an occasional faint glow filtering through gelatinous walls. A rhythmic thumping echoed around him, steady and alien.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Then, a soft chime resonated in his mind. A flickering bell icon appeared within his vision. Instinctively, he tried to click it, only to remember he had no fingers. Concentrating, he willed the icon to activate.
[Quest: Survive the birthing process.]
[Reward: 1x Lottery Ticket]
His breath hitched—if he even had lungs yet—and a strange, weightless panic gripped him. His mind scrambled to process the sheer impossibility of it all, his thoughts ricocheting between denial and reluctant acceptance. His mind raced, piecing together the clues—the cramped space, the faint glow, the heartbeat, and now this absurd quest. It all pointed to one conclusion.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Aldrich had been reincarnated. And not just reincarnated—he was a fetus, barely five months into gestation, floating in the womb of his new mother.
"Of all the possible second chances, I get this one? No rebirth as a hero in a fantasy kingdom? No overpowered magic? Just baby soup and waiting?" he groaned internally. "This is cosmic comedy at its finest."
Realizing his predicament, Aldrich sighed—or at least, he tried to. "Four more months of this. No Wi-Fi, no games, no Netflix. What am I supposed to do, count my non-existent fingers?"
Deciding to make the best of his situation, he focused on exploring the mysterious system that had integrated itself into his new reality.
"Hey, System!" he called out, hoping for a response.
Silence.
Figures.
"Can you at least show me my status?" he tried again.
A translucent panel materialized in his mind:
[Status Panel]
Age: 0 / 75 years
Class: N/A
Strength: 0.1
Agility: 0.1
Intelligence: 1.2
Vitality: 0.1
Skills: N/A
Skill Points: 0
Experience Points: 0
Aldrich analyzed the stats. "So, one point must be the average for an adult. My intelligence is above average, probably because I retained my old memories. At least I'm not completely hopeless."
Curious, he navigated to the item tab. It displayed 300 slots, though only six were marked as equipable. Their function remained unclear. How this would play into his new life was anyone's guess.
As the reality of his rebirth settled in, Aldrich reflected on his past life. A wave of mixed emotions washed over him—relief at escaping the monotony, regret for never truly accomplishing anything, and a strange, bittersweet acceptance. He had no family, no real legacy, just a string of forgettable days. But now, he had a second chance. A chance to be more. An orphan with few meaningful connections, he felt no sorrow leaving it behind. This was a fresh start, a blank slate.
Outside the womb, muffled voices murmured—his future parents. Occasionally, vibrations pulsed through the liquid around him, signaling movement in the outside world. He listened, adapting to his new existence.
"Alright, universe, you win. This is my life now." His determination solidified. "Let's do this right."
With nothing else to do, he closed his eyes, mentally preparing for the months ahead.
"Let the world's longest nap begin. And when I wake up, this time, I'm making it count."