"I hate my life."

Most people would kill to be in Leo's position. He had everything—wealth, intelligence, good looks, and an endless supply of admiration.

And yet, he felt nothing.

His wealth had built an invisible wall between him and the rest of the world. He could buy anything he wanted, but the things that truly mattered—the things that made life worth living—remained forever out of reach.

Ever since he was a kid, he had longed for adventure.

Not the kind people called a "once-in-a-lifetime experience"—not luxury vacations, not thrill-seeking stunts. No, he wanted real adventure. The kind he had read about in novels. A life filled with danger, mystery, and the unknown. A world where every second was unpredictable, where survival wasn't guaranteed, where magic and ancient ruins lurked just beyond the horizon.

He had always found it ridiculous when protagonists in stories desperately wanted to return to their old lives. Maybe that was because they actually had something to go back to.

Leo didn't.

With a quiet sigh, he let himself drift, the inflatable duck beneath him bobbing gently in the pool. The sky above stretched endlessly, a sea of blue untouched by clouds. Sunlight danced across the water's surface, golden ripples swaying with the breeze.

Then—

Blink. Blink.

Something was wrong.

"Huh?"

He squinted, rubbing his eyes.

A streak of light cut through the sky, a searing blade of fire carving through the heavens.

Leo's breath hitched.

It was massive. Larger than mountains. An impossibly vast, glowing object burned through the atmosphere, its molten edges shimmering between searing orange and blinding white. Even from miles away, it dominated the sky, a divine hammer poised to strike.

Then—

BOOM.

A deafening explosion split the air as the meteor shattered the atmosphere, sending violent shockwaves through the world. The ground trembled beneath him, the water around him rippling in chaotic waves.

And yet…

A slow, crooked smile crept onto his lips.

It was breathtaking. Terrifying. Beautiful.

The meteor moved almost deliberately, like a force with purpose. He watched, spellbound, as it soared beyond the horizon—

And then—

Impact.

A deep, guttural boom shook the earth. A monstrous cloud of dust erupted from the impact site, swallowing entire city blocks in its relentless approach. The sky darkened. The ground rumbled beneath him, splitting apart like shattered glass.

Leo barely had time to breathe before reality cracked open.

The world screamed.

Buildings collapsed like dominoes, steel beams twisting and snapping as if they were nothing more than paper. The distant wails of sirens and screaming voices were drowned out by the deafening roar of destruction.

Holy sh*t.

Panic slammed into him. He rolled off the inflatable duck, feet hitting the cool tile in a frantic stumble. He needed to run—needed to move.

But it was too late.

The shockwave hit.

An unstoppable, raw force of nature ripped through everything in its path.

The world dissolved.

And then—

Darkness.

Weightless. Adrift.

His mind stirred, sluggish and heavy, as if submerged in a dream.

He wasn't dead.

Not yet.

Thick, warm liquid surrounded him, pulsing with a steady rhythm. His body wouldn't move—no, it couldn't move, held in place by some invisible force.

He tried to breathe, but there was no air. And yet, he didn't suffocate.

Muffled voices echoed beyond the liquid, their words foreign, unintelligible. Shapes moved outside his confinement, shifting in the hazy darkness.

Leo tried to open his eyes.

Blurry figures. A dim glow.

Something was different.

Something had changed.

And for the first time in his life—

Leo felt truly excited.

----------**-----------

Reincarnation.

A fantastical notion that many believed in, yet just as many dismissed as fiction.

Leo had never believed in it either.

He wished and wished, but he was never foolish enough to hope.

To him, death was the end.

However…

The muffled voices around him grew clearer until he heard:

"Congratulations, Madam. He looks to be a healthy boy."

...Wait.

Sh*t, please tell me I'm wrong about this.

I AM BEING BIRTHED RIGHT—

Before he could finish the thought, the plush, fleshy walls around him contracted violently, forcing him out.

Leo's face twisted in pure horror.

This is awful.

The voices grew louder, and the light pressing against his closed eyelids became blinding.

He knew exactly what was coming next.

Plunk!

Leo popped out, wearing an utterly defeated expression.

Slowly and painfully, he pried his eyes open, only to be bombarded by a mess of colors and blurry figures. His infant retinas struggled to adjust to the light.

Then, as his vision sharpened, he spotted a fully armored woman in front of him. Her strong, masculine face was twisted into a grimace, stress evident in her sharp features. Judging by the distant sounds of clashing swords and explosions, he could understand why.

Just where the hell was I born?

Trying to assess the situation like a rational adult, he noted two things. First, whatever language they were speaking, he couldn't understand it. Second, he seemed to have been born in a moving carriage.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it. The sounds of battle slowly faded, and the gentle rocking of the carriage signaled that they were moving forward once more.

Looking around, his eyes landed on the woman he had just popped out of. His mother.

Taking a few moments to observe her, he had to admit—she was beautiful. But not in the soft, delicate way he might have expected. No, she radiated strength. She was the royal and commanding type of beauty.

Her vermilion hair framed a face that, despite its natural kindness, bore the marks of someone accustomed to cold indifference. The faint lines around her mouth, the firm set of her lips—this was a woman who had spent years frowning more than smiling. Yet, when she looked at him, there was something else. A warmth beneath the surface.

More than her looks, though, it was the feeling she gave off. A certainty. A presence so strong it made him feel safe—like no harm could reach him while she was near.

Was this what all babies felt when they looked at their mothers?

For a moment, Leo pulled his gaze away, scanning the room for another figure—his father.

He didn't see him.

Before he could dwell on it, his mother's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Uhm, is there something wrong with Luca? Why isn't he crying?"

"I assure you, there's nothing to worry about. Please rest for a few days, Mrs. Elpida."

The first few weeks of Leo's new life were a struggle.

Waving his limbs around aimlessly was about all he could manage, and even that felt like an exhausting workout. But the worst part?

His bladder had a mind of its own.

Getting changed after peeing himself was by far the most humiliating experience he had ever endured—especially when it was done by an attractive maid.

As for the world he was in, at first, Leo assumed it was some kind of pre-electricity era, similar to his old world's past.

That theory didn't last long.

One day, after a diaper change, he decided to peek over the edge of the mattress. Unfortunately, he realized far too late that his tiny baby limbs lacked the strength to push himself back up.

Then—

Thud!

Leo hit the ground in a full scorpion.

His wails filled the room.

His mother burst through the door, panic evident on her face. The maids followed closely behind, one of them holding a strange, glowing green liquid.

A healing potion?

Yeah.

He definitely wasn't in his old world anymore.