As Gabriel slept peacefully. His stomach churned, yet he refused to face the waking world. The alarm had not yet sounded, so he still slept, for he felt warm and cozy. But then came a sound, a low, insistent hum, foreign and mechanical. He flailed weakly, seeking to silence it, but his hands passed through empty air. A voice, cold and unyielding, began to count down.
He opened one eye with great difficulty, for he felt as if his eyelids weighed a few tons. Before him hovered a translucent panel, its edges shimmering with an eerie blue light. The countdown had reached four. Images flickered upon the screen—small, grotesque creatures and children of varied races. But what was most striking was not only the countdown that had already dropped to three, but the word "CHOSE" emblazoned in crimson letters.
His mind, still clouded with the remnants of sleep, struggled to comprehend the situation before him. The countdown dropped to two, and in a panic, Gabriel reached out and pressed upon the face of the first child he saw on the screen. The moment his finger made contact, the countdown ceased. The silence that followed was deafening.
Suddenly, he became aware of his surroundings-or, rather, the lack thereof. The void was absolute; he was adrift in an endless expanse of darkness. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, yet he had no body to house it. His thoughts raced, but his mind was a prisoner of the void.
As his despair at the prospect of living like this started to creep in, the panel in front of him made a sound, its tone mechanical and indifferent. "Congratulations," it announced, "you have chosen to be born in the House of Aren."
"Born?" Gabriel thought, though he could not voice the question. "What do you mean?"
The voice continued, unperturbed. "Initializing process." "Unknown artifact detected." "Unable to remove." "Error." "Error." "Process complete." "Have a nice life."
A sudden sensation of motion seized him. He felt as though he were falling, or perhaps rising—he could not tell.. "What is this? I feel so light... Am I flying? Where... where am I?" His thoughts tumbled, frantic and unsteady. "Darkness... everywhere, dark to dark. I can't see, can't move." A flicker of light pierced the void, distant at first, but it rushed toward him with terrifying speed. "Light?... Why is it getting closer... fast, too fast! No! stop! NO! WHAAAAAAAAA!"
"Congratulations, my lady," an old voice said, her tone warm and welcoming. "It's a boy."
"He is so adorable," another maid whispered with a warm smile, her voice trembling with restrained joy.
Lady Ariana nodded gently, her gaze fixed on the newborn in her arms. Her eyes were moist, her smile as soft as moonlight. "He is," she said simply.
Just moments before, the child had been silent—eerily so. No breath, no cry. The midwives exchanged glances, their hearts chilled with dread. Some began to weep in silence. But then—suddenly—he cried. A sharp, defiant sound that pierced the stillness like thunder over a quiet lake.
"Quick, summon the lord," one of the elder maids commanded. Her voice, though steady, bore the urgency of one who had seen too many births end in death.
In another world, in another life, he had awaited death. But now, in this alien place, Gabriel found himself thrust into warmth and noise. Startled by unfamiliar voices, his eyelids, heavy as mountains, parted slowly—as if awakening from a thousand years of slumber, his soul still bound in chains of memory. He blinked, once… twice… The world, so bright and raw, scorched his senses.
Before him loomed a giant—no, a woman.
Her beauty was otherworldly, like moonlight upon jade. Her eyes, vast as starfields, shimmered with something he could not understand—love? Hope? Sorrow? She gazed at him not as one who sees a child, but as one who sees a miracle.
He trembled.
Terror surged through his tiny frame, instinctive and primal. His soul recoiled—not from her, but from the truth. This was not death. This was not oblivion. This was rebirth.