'What… happened to me?'
When the boy regained consciousness, he found himself staring at the beautiful face of a Western woman. Something felt off about his body. His last memory was playing FGO, using White Lion King's northern hemisphere plus Black Lion King's southern hemisphere to bully Gilgamesh in the training ground. After a few rounds, the phone suddenly blacked out—and that was where his memory snapped.
'Did I transmigrate?'
He focused on the gorgeous blonde holding him—no, a blonde MILF. Though she looked a little older, she was stunning; even someone used to Eastern features had to admit her beauty, though her complexion was pale.
Then he saw his chubby baby hands. The boy stuck a cute finger into his mouth—not on purpose, but because the body's instincts were hard to control. Right now he could tell he had… probably wet himself.
'Waaaah!'
His body cried on reflex; he hadn't wanted to, but the moment anything felt off, the tiny frame took over.
'My darling, what's wrong? Hungry?'
Hearing his wails, the blonde beauty assumed he was starving and pulled out a full, fragrant breast. Still sobbing, the boy felt something soft and warm press to his lips, crowned by a little nub. With the mind of an adult, he wanted to refuse—but the body wouldn't allow it.
'Wet again, you little rascal.'
Cradling the tiny body, she felt a cool patch and knew at once what had happened; this wasn't her first child—her son was already fourteen. After the feeding she changed the diaper, while the reincarnated adult's pride crumbled under the shame of infancy, and consciousness slipped back toward sleep.
'Old man, is this my little sister?'
'How many times have I told you: don't call me "old man." Your dad's not that ancient, Tony.'
Father and teen, temperamentally identical, walked in. The boy, leaning over the bassinet, grinned at the sleeping infant.
'All right, you two, let the baby sleep.'
Both instantly shut up. Whether former super-playboy Howard Stark or current super-playboy Tony Stark, there was one woman they feared: Maria Stark—the true power in the Stark household.
'What's my sister's name?'
Tony rubbed his nose and asked; he'd brainstormed for weeks but nothing felt right, so he left the decision to his parents.
'I've had it picked out for ages: Artoria Stark—our little Angel.'
Had the baby still been awake—and able to understand English—she'd have fainted. Not so much from discovering her second "little brother" was gone, but from the surname itself, so often mocked as 'Shit-a-Brick.' And this was a perilous world. But she was out cold.
None of the elated trio noticed red patterns flicker across the infant's skin. Anyone from the Fate series would recognize them as magic Circuits—crimson ones—and Command Seals. They vanished in an instant, lost in the joy of the newborn.
High in the Himalayas, a bald woman who guarded the world furrowed her serene brow.
'The future just blurred—what is going on?'
'Who has disrupted fate?'
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