It was the exact same eye he'd found inside the underwater temple, the one that killed him.
"What are the chances…? Seriously?" he muttered. "Did this thing actually follow me after reincarnation?"
His foot slipped on the cracked ground as he retreated, but his gaze stayed locked on the relic.
"It's like a cursed stray cat," he muttered. "Except instead of me feeding it, it keeps trying to murder me."
Before he could decide whether to run, kick it, or scream, the world around him fractured like shattered glass as found himself floating in the void again.
He frowned as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, then suddenly noticed a faint glow ahead in the darkness.
It took him a moment to recognize it. Once he did, his whole body turned cold.
There he was.
His soul—wrapped tightly inside a cocoon of golden light—drifting through the void exactly as before. The cocoon's edges flickered faintly, suspended in some eternal current.
Adam stared, first confused… then horrified.
"What is this? Was all of that a dream? Am I dreaming now? Or am I still stuck in this damn void?"
Suddenly, the void twisted—like someone grabbed his vision and turned it inside out.
The distant cocoon lurched closer, blurred—
and everything snapped into a new perspective, he was no longer looking at the cocoon from afar.
He was inside it.
Inside his own soul-shell, staring outward—like he had traded places with the drifting version of himself. The shift was so disorienting it made him nauseous, even though this form didn't have organs.
He tried to move… but nothing happened. He wasn't truly "himself."
He was a trapped observer, locked behind invisible glass. His own curled, unconscious body rested inside the golden cocoon.
At first he thought it was just a repeated image,then he saw it, the thing on his forehead.
The eye—embedded in his skin just like the mural, faintly glowing.
"What… no. No way. This damn thing is on me now?"
Suddenly the eye flickered—just a tiny pulse, but enough to make his heart drop. It felt like it was about to open, even though it didn't move at all. The sensation alone chilled him to the core.
A heartbeat later, agony detonated in his skull, it wasn't a normal headache. It was like thousands of needles stabbing straight into his brain, The pain was so overwhelming he couldn't scream. His vision blurred and soon everything went white.
And at the exact same moment—
—he opened his eyes, he was on his back, staring up at a familiar wooden ceiling, he was back in his baby body.
"Huh. Little thing, you're awake already?"
Adam—still groggy and struggling to gather his thoughts—froze at the unfamiliar voice.
He tilted his tiny head upward. He saw a man with chestnut-brown hair and a thin, careless beard leaned over him. He wore a light armor set and a sword was sheathed at his waist.
And who was that supposed to be?
Adam's tiny eyes nearly bulged.
Orin's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Strange. Why aren't you crying?"
Crying? Adam cursed inwardly. Does he really think I'm actually a baby?!
"Hm… newborns don't stop crying. Not this early." Orin muttered, frowning as if deep in analysis.
Who is this creep? Adam felt a prickle of fear. Is he suspicious of me already?
Should I pretend to cry?
No… that would make me look even more suspicious!
"Orin, stop bothering Atem." Marek walked up beside him, chuckling.
"Bothering? Hah?" Orin raised a brow. "Hmph. I'm not bothering him."
He gave Adam another odd look before bursting into laughter. "If anything, I think he likes me."
Likes who? Adam nearly rolled his eyes.
Atem?
Wait—did he just call me Atem?
While Adam—Atem now—was reeling from the new name, the two men sat beside the cradle.
"I rushed here thinking something terrible happened," Orin grumbled, glaring at Marek. "But look at this—you're fine, and Asha has even awakened her Inner Sun."
Marek rubbed his temples. "You're sure about her grade?"
"Of course I'm sure." Orin sneered. "A Wheel-grade Inner Sun. No doubt about it."
Marek nodded slowly. "I didn't expect that. Neither I nor her mother are anywhere close to Wheel grade."
"You should be celebrating. Wheel grade is rare—even rarer than mine." Orin clapped Marek on the shoulder and stood.
"What about the Jade Stream Sect? Is it safe for her?"
Orin's expression grew solemn. "Sects aren't like clans. They judge talent and achievements. With her grade, she won't suffer."
Marek exhaled softly. Then his eyes shifted toward Adam. "And him? Anything unusual?"
Orin's gaze followed, and his expression turned… complicated.
Feeling the weight of their stares, Atem instinctively stiffened.
Don't tell me… even my supposed father is suspicious of me?
Looking back, it made sense—he'd felt a sort of distance from Marek since the moment he'd woken.
"There is something strange about him," Orin finally said.
What?!
Both Atem and Marek reacted—though only one showed it on his face.
"What is it? What's strange?" Marek asked, his expression sinking.
"He has at best a barren Inner Sun," Orin said with a quiet sigh, looking at the baby with pity.
Marek froze. His eyes widened, and his jaw tightened. "Are you certain? Can't you check again?"
Orin shook his head. "I'm sure. Inner Sun grades are clear by age nine, but there should still be a seed at birth. He has nothing. You know what that means."
Marek drew a sharp breath. "It's because of us… When Lira was pregnant—after everything that happened—it must've affected him. No wonder we could barely sense his breath or body heat the moment he was born."
"It's rare in the family," Orin said softly. "But it happens. Perhaps fate has its own plans for him."
Atem stared blankly.
Inner Sun? Seed? Barren?
Am I… sick or something?
Before he could process anything, fatigue soon overtook him, and he fell asleep again.
"Already asleep again?" Orin chuckled. "Poor kid. Sleep while you can."