Protagonist's commentary will be toned down in a few chapters.
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First? I died.
And this time… I was the only one who noticed.
Then I was born.
Not in the motivational "today is the first day of the rest of your life" way.
In the "suddenly I'm coated in amniotic fluid and being man-handled by strangers" way.
It was bright.
WAY too bright.
Like someone had replaced the sun with a supernova directly above my face.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL—"
That's what I tried to say.
What came out was: "..."
Nothing. Not a sound. Not a whimper.
Which was weird because internally, I was SCREAMING.
Absolute panic mode. Full system meltdown. The kind of existential terror that should make any normal human being flail their limbs and let out a wail that would wake the dead.
But my body just... didn't.
Instead, I felt calm. Serene, even. Like I'd taken a Xanax smoothie directly to the bloodstream.
"He's not crying," someone whispered from above me—a woman with silver hair pulled so tight her eyebrows looked surprised. "Note that down."
"I am noting it down," grumbled another voice, this one belonging to a man with a beard so intricate it looked like it had its own area code.
I wanted to say: "HEY. I'M RIGHT HERE. I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT ME."
But my mouth just sort of... existed. No words. No crying. Just a slightly parted set of gums.
Wait.
GUMS?
"WHERE ARE MY TEETH?!" I tried to scream. But again, nothing.
I couldn't even feel my gums with my tongue because apparently, I didn't have motor control of THAT either.
Cool. Cool cool cool.
A face loomed over me. A woman with eyes that literally—and I mean LITERALLY—glowed with a soft amber light.
"He carries the Myrr'khal look," she said, her voice like wind chimes if wind chimes went to private school.
The silver-haired woman nodded. "The golden eyes. The stillness. He is his father's son."
I was being passed around like a football at Thanksgiving, each new person peering at me with an intensity that felt invasive.
"Aura stillness... fascinating," murmured Beard Code Man, scribbling something on what looked like actual parchment. "Not even a flutter."
WHAT IS AN AURA FLUTTER AND WHY DON'T I HAVE ONE?
I tried to move my arms. Nothing.
Tried to kick my legs. Nothing.
Tried to clench my non-existent teeth in frustration.
You guessed it. Nothing.
But here's the thing. Even though I was freaking out INSIDE, a strange coolness washed over me. Like my brain was panicking but my body was at a spa retreat.
"Look how composed he is," someone whispered. "Like a little sage."
I AM NOT COMPOSED. I'M HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS WHILE TRAPPED IN A POTATO SACK OF NEW FLESH.
Despite my inner monologue, I just... blinked. Slowly. Calmly.
And everyone lost their minds.
"Did you see that? Conscious eye movement already!"
"The control! The awareness!"
WHY ARE YOU ALL DRESSED LIKE YOU'RE ATTENDING A RENAISSANCE FAIR FUNERAL?
I finally managed to focus on their outfits. Dark robes with intricate silver stitching. High collars. Colors that ranged from "midnight depression" to "slightly lighter midnight depression."
These people looked like they communed with ghosts for fun. Like their hobbies included summoning demons and discussing existential dread over tea.
"The bloodline is strong in this one," said a new voice—deep, smooth, and somehow both warm and chilling at the same time.
A man stepped into view. Tall. Sharp-featured. Hair like spun gold and eyes that matched mine—literal golden irises with pupils so black they seemed to absorb light.
If "terrifyingly handsome" was a person, it would be this guy.
"Caelum," he said, placing a hand on my forehead. "Caelum Myrr'khal."
Great. I sound like a sexy anime villain with unresolved trauma.
His hand was cool against my skin. Too cool. Like he'd been standing in a meat locker before deciding to check out his new offspring.
"His aura sensitivity is off the charts," Mr. Freezerhand said. "The Root will be pleased."
THE WHAT NOW?
"Yes, Lord Myrr'khal," someone agreed eagerly. "He will bring honor to the bloodline."
Oh cool, so my dad's a "Lord" and we have a "bloodline." Fantastic. I've been reborn into the gothic wizard Illuminati.
I tried to roll my eyes. Couldn't. But somehow my face remained completely neutral, which everyone seemed to find impressive.
"Not a single cry," Lord Dad said proudly. "True Myrr'khal composure."
IT'S NOT COMPOSURE. I'M TRAPPED IN A BODY THAT WON'T LISTEN TO ME.
But even as I thought it, I realized something strange.
I wasn't just physically calm.
There was a part of me—a new part—that actually WAS calm. Like a cool, still pool underneath the chaos of my thoughts.
It felt... foreign. Like someone had installed new software in my brain without reading the terms and conditions.
"When shall we begin testing his affinity?" Silver Hair asked.
"Not yet," Lord Dad replied. "Let him adjust. The Root has returned to us. We should let the soil breathe again."
I got reincarnated into a cult. A literal cult. With root metaphors. Great.
"Prepare the naming ceremony," Lord Dad continued. "Tomorrow at dawn, we officially welcome him to the family."
The assembled cult members—sorry, "family"—nodded solemnly.
I was wrapped in a blanket so soft it made cashmere feel like sandpaper. The fabric seemed to shimmer, threads of silver catching what little light there was in the room.
As they carried me out, I caught glimpses of my surroundings. High ceilings. Stone walls. Windows that looked like they belonged in a cathedral.
"Is this a CASTLE?" I screamed internally.
My body, of course, just blinked slowly.
"Look at that," someone whispered. "Even his blinks are measured. A true prodigy."
I'M NOT BLINKING INTENTIONALLY. IT'S AN AUTONOMIC RESPONSE.
But again, that strange pool of calm inside me rippled with... satisfaction? Like part of me was actually ENJOYING their praise.
What the hell?
They placed me in what could only be described as the world's most goth bassinet. Black wood. Silver accents. Tiny moons and stars carved into the posts.
"Rest well, Caelum," Lord Dad said, placing a finger on my forehead. "Tomorrow, you join the Myrr'khal legacy officially."
Then they left me.
Alone.
In the dark.
With nothing but my thoughts.
WHICH WERE MANY. AND LOUD.
Let's recap, shall we?
I died.
I got reborn as a baby.
My name is apparently Caelum Myrr'khal (which sounds like something you'd name your final fantasy character after three energy drinks).
I've been born into what appears to be a family of goth aristocrat wizards.
Everyone thinks I'm weirdly calm and composed, which is HILARIOUS because I'm having a continuous internal meltdown.
There's something called "The Root" which I'm supposed to... please? Be connected to? Grow from? I don't know, the plant metaphors are unclear.
I can't move. Or speak. Or express any of the chaos happening in my brain.
I have no teeth.
This was... a lot.
I tried to move my arms again. This time, I managed a small twitch.
Progress!
But even that tiny movement felt strange. Like it was both intentional and not. Like I was piloting a mech suit that was also somehow independently sentient.
"What's happening to me?" I wondered.
For a moment, the calm pool inside me seemed to respond—not with words, but with a sensation. A feeling of... rightness. Like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Which was SUPER weird because I was pretty sure I was supposed to be in my apartment, drinking expired milk and making poor life choices.
Not... here. Wherever "here" was.
"I got reincarnated into a haunted bloodline and I can't even move my neck," I thought bitterly.
But the bitterness was immediately soothed by that strange inner calm.
It was like having two brains. One freaking out (reasonable) and one completely zen (suspicious).
I laid there, staring up at the ornate ceiling, trying to process everything.
The last thing I remembered was the milk. The dizziness. The countdown.
11:42 p.m.
That edgelord gamer had literally predicted—or caused?—my death.
And I'd laughed at him.
I'd roasted his forehead size while he was apparently planning my interdimensional kidnapping.
Talk about embarrassing.
"How did he even do it?" I wondered. "Was it the milk? Did he somehow hack my dairy?"
These questions swirled in my mind as I laid there, unable to do anything but blink and occasionally twitch a finger.
The strangest part was how my body reacted to my panic. Or rather, how it DIDN'T react. My heart rate stayed steady. My breathing remained even. No tears. No trembling.
Just... chill.
Unnaturally chill.
Like someone had disconnected my emotional responses from my physical ones.
"Maybe I'm in a coma," I thought hopefully. "Maybe this is just a weird milk-induced hallucination."
But everything felt too real. The soft blanket. The cool air. The distant sounds of people moving through stone hallways.
Plus, I was pretty sure coma dreams didn't include the sensation of having literally no teeth.
As I laid there, coming to terms with my new reality, I noticed something else strange.
I could see... energy? Aura? Something flowing around the room like wispy smoke.
Tendrils of light that moved with purpose, weaving between objects and occasionally brushing against me.
"Great," I thought. "I can see magic. I've gone full fantasy protagonist."
The distant sound of chanting began somewhere below me. Deep, rhythmic voices speaking words I couldn't understand but somehow recognized.
A ceremony of some kind? For me?
The calm part of me seemed to recognize the chanting, responding with a sense of belonging.
But the ME-me, the part that remembered dying in my apartment, felt only confusion and a growing sense of "what the actual hell is happening."
I tried once more to move, managing to wiggle my toes this time.
Baby steps. Literally.
One day, I'd figure out what was happening. Why I was here. Who these people were. What "The Root" was.
But for now, I was stuck in this tiny body, with its weird dual-brain situation and its complete lack of dental structure.
The chanting grew louder, more insistent. The energy in the room seemed to pulse in time with it.
And despite my internal freakout, my body remained perfectly still. Perfectly calm. Like I was born for this.
Maybe I was.
That thought was more terrifying than anything else.
I got reincarnated into a haunted wizard bloodline. And I couldn't even sit up straight.