So.
I died.
Yeah, not in a blaze of glory. No slow-motion hero moment, no final boss. Just me, a pair of cheap earbuds, a hoodie with one sleeve too long, and a big-ass truck.
"Oh sh—"
WHAM.
That was it. One moment I was half-ranting about anime power scaling while crossing an empty street at night, and the next…
Nothing.
Not even pain. Just a sound.
Wind.
It hit before the truck did—fast, hard, right behind the ears. If you've ever been punched by the weather, you'll know what I mean. But this wasn't just wind.
This wind had... intent.
Like the universe leaned in and whispered, "Oops."
Then it got weird.
I expected darkness. Maybe a tunnel. At least a floating grandparent going, "It's not your time, sweetie."
Nope.
Just floating. Like my brain got dropped into a screensaver. Nothing but blank space and distant static. Very Windows XP meets coma dream.
And then—everything exploded.
Not literally. But kind of?
The nothingness cracked like cheap glass and all these glowing animal symbols started spinning around me like I'd been dumped into a slot machine designed by ancient Chinese necromancers on mushrooms.
A giant tiger roared sideways.
A rabbit screamed in Morse code.
A dragon looked directly at me and said nothing—but I understood anyway: "This is gonna suck, but you'll live."
Then it happened.
A chime. Like a bell swallowed a computer.
And a screen—yes, a literal floating golden screen—just popped into my vision like an anime HUD.
📿 Zodiac Core System Initialized
Host: ???
Level: 1
Soul Energy (SE): 0
Cores: All 12 – SEALED
Primary Status: Dormant
I blinked.
"Excuse me, what the fu—"
FALLING.
Just—no warning. The floor disappeared. Gravity came back angry. I plummeted through clouds and screaming colors and I swear I heard Typhoon-kun laughing.
(Yes, I named it. Sue me. It felt like a 'Typhoon-kun.')
Then, everything stopped.
It was cold. Wet. Bright.
Somewhere, a woman screamed in either delight or horror—unclear.
There was pressure on all sides of me. A sudden POP. And then—
Light.
Sound.
Hands.
I was being held upside down.
And someone slapped me.
Oh no.
Not metaphorically.
I was literally just born.
A week into my new life and I'd officially become the world's most suspicious infant.
I wasn't crying.
I wasn't babbling.
I wasn't doing anything cute.
I was just... staring. Blank-eyed. Watching everything and everyone with the thousand-yard stare of a man who had survived midterms, minimum wage, and middle school in the same lifetime.
This was upsetting to the nurses. One of them crossed herself every time she walked past my crib.
The other one tried to stab me with a syringe when she thought no one was looking.
(Don't worry—I bit her. No teeth yet, but the intent was there.)
I spent most of my days lying on a hyper-clean medical cushion in a chrome bassinet, pretending to be normal while my brain ran at 300 mph trying to solve The Big Question:
Where the hell am I?
Not Earth. Obvious.
Not Heaven. I'm allergic to harps.
Not Hell. Too cold.
That left... what? Sci-fi dystopia? Cult compound? Elon Musk's basement?
I had nothing—except a floating golden menu stuck in my vision like a sponsored ad I couldn't swipe away.
📿 Zodiac Core System Initialized
Host: David
Level: 1
Soul Energy (SE): 0
Cores: All SEALED
Primary Status: Dormant
It had shown up right after The Wind, The Truck, and The Screaming Cyclone of Animal Emojis.
(Not a band name. Sadly.)
So far it hadn't said or done anything else. No quests. No tips. No tutorial.
Which was either a bug… or a trap.
"Hey," I tried thinking at it. "Am I dead or dreaming?"
Nothing.
"Can you hear me? Blink once for yes."
Still nothing.
"Right. Okay. Silent type."
I sighed.
Or, well, made a noise like a balloon trying to speak French.
Eventually I gave up trying to hack it and focused on my surroundings instead. What I learned:
Everyone here was too calm about sharp objects.The walls had way too many hidden compartments.One of the nurses had steel-threaded eyelashes.And the woman who claimed to be my mother? Gave me a look like I was a winning lottery ticket with teeth.
Not a lot to go on, but I was starting to suspect this wasn't your average nuclear family setup.
And there was one more thing.
Lying in the bassinet next to mine…
Was another baby.
Same white hair. Same tiny fists. Same constantly-annoyed expression.
I'd only seen his eyes open once.
They were silver.
He looked at me.
And frowned.
He kept staring at me.
This baby.
My... twin, apparently.
Same face. Same hair. Same eyes, except his had that gleaming, steel-wool glint of someone already plotting how to jailbreak the nursery and assassinate a pediatrician.
So, naturally, I tried to be friendly.
Lifted a tiny arm. Wiggled my fingers.
He squinted at me like I'd insulted his bloodline.
Okay. Rude.
I tried again. Made a sort of cooing noise. Friendly. Universal baby for "hello."
In response, he slowly reached over, grabbed the edge of my blanket—
—and yeeted it off my body.
Cold air hit like betrayal.
I blinked.
He blinked.
Then he smirked.
Oh.
Oh hell no.
So that's how it was gonna be.
Somewhere in the reincarnation contract, someone forgot to mention I'd be sharing a crib with a tiny warlord.
He wasn't even crying. Not once.
That's how I knew.
Real babies cry. Normal babies scream. This one?
He was watching. Every adult. Every light fixture. Every beep from the machines.
He was logging it.
The realization hit me like a rattle to the face:
He's like me.
He's aware.
Or close.
Maybe not a full reincarnator, but something behind those silver eyes was ticking.
Great.
Two freak babies in a house full of knives.
What could go wrong?
Later that day, someone came in and picked him up.
He didn't fuss. Didn't flail. Just… went completely still, like he was letting himself be carried for convenience.
I was picked up next.
The woman holding me looked at me with this dreamy, glassy smile like I was a doll she wasn't sure whether to hug or taxidermy.
"David," she whispered, like she was trying out the name. "You're so quiet."
Thanks?
Her aura felt... expensive. Perfumed but poisonous.
I drooled on her sleeve for dominance.
When she left, the other baby was already looking at me again.
I stared back.
A full minute passed.
Then he did it again.
He smirked.
Like he knew something I didn't.
Which, for the record, was unacceptable.
📿 Zodiac Core System Status: UNCHANGED
Still floating there. Still useless.
Though I had to admit… part of me was starting to like it.
Not the mystery. Not the power potential.
The company.
Something about the quiet hum of the golden text made me feel like I wasn't alone in this crib—even when silver-eyes over there was pretending to nap like a baby ninja.
Whatever this world was…
I had a system.
I had sarcasm.
And I had a nemesis in diapers.
Bring it on.