It had already been eight months since that day—eight months of subtle growth, quiet observations, and unsettling revelations. And this evening… this very moment… was when my mother went into labor once more.
The hall outside her chamber was dimly lit by golden sconces, their flames gently flickering with the soft gusts of wind that swept through the grand mansion corridors. I sat quietly in the arms of one of the older butlers, nestled against his shoulder. My father stood nearby, still and composed, though the subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed the storm beneath. A few butlers stood at attention, while others moved discreetly in and out, offering updates or fetching items.
It had been the maids who had informed us first. They were the ones assigned to her personal care, and those not chosen to assist during the labor waited outside, visibly tense, their expressions clouded with worry. They were loyal. Not just servants, but almost like family to her. Her kindness had earned their love, and their fear now reflected that bond.
In contrast, I had begun to change in ways the others could never guess. Though still an infant by appearance, I had regained much of my awareness and memories from my previous life. My body was small and clumsy, but I could walk now—barely, but steadily. I had taken to wandering the vast halls of this mansion, usually accompanied by a butler. By my own judgment, and skills honed in a very different life, I could tell they weren't just mere house staff. No. The way they moved, the reflexes in their subtle steps… assassins, perhaps. Fighters for sure. My father wouldn't surround himself with anyone less.
Suddenly, the painful cries from the room intensified—sharper, more strained. I clutched the butler's coat reflexively, watching the door with heightened focus. Then, just as swiftly as they had come, the cries ceased.
A brief silence.
And then—
A newborn's wail pierced the air, raw and loud. Alive.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" I thought absentmindedly, curiosity sparking. "Personally… I'd prefer a brother."
"It's a boy!" came a maid's cheerful voice from within the room, filled with unfiltered joy.
I blinked, stunned for a moment.
I have… a younger brother now.
"You sure know how to read the room, Ray," I said mentally, addressing the voice that had been my companion since my rebirth.
"Of course I do. Since you were disappointed in my skill," Ray responded with a note of mock indignation.
I grinned inwardly. "Disappointed" was a strong word, but not entirely inaccurate.
Still, one of my more intriguing skills had made itself known recently:
[Cradle of Memories] —a poetic name, if nothing else.
The ability allowed me to delve into the memories of others, provided certain conditions were met. More curiously, I could dive into my own memories too. But that was it. No editing, no alterations—just viewing. For interrogation or understanding someone's past, it might be useful. But for someone like me? It felt a little… lackluster.
That wasn't the only letdown.
"Ray, show me the system functions."
"Ok," Ray replied immediately.
In front of me, visible only to my eyes, a translucent blue screen shimmered into existence.
__________________________
[System Interface]
• Status
• Mini Map
• Skill Library
• Tome of the World
• Quests
• Storage
• Shop
__________________________
"Mini Map" had potential, but it was barren—something I'd have to fill out manually through exploration.
"Tome of the World" sounded promising. A record of creatures, races, cultures… but again, blank. I had to gather the knowledge myself, either by observation or combat. It wouldn't even log monsters until I saw and defeated them. So much for instant advantage.
"Quests" seemed interesting, but it remained locked, requiring a trigger event to activate.
As for "Storage," some might call it broken, but they'd be wrong. I couldn't place things into it—only retrieve what was deposited via Quests or the locked Shop. Speaking of which, the Shop wasn't accessible until I reached level 50. Fair enough, but frustrating all the same.
That left "Status" and "Skill Library." Basic tools. The latter couldn't even be used efficiently until my body matured.
Honestly, this system felt more like a long-term investment than the cheat sheet I'd expected.
The door creaked open, and the butler holding me stepped forward, entering behind my father who had already gone inside.
The room was warm with soft light, and the scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air. Maids bustled around quietly, and my mother lay on the grand bed, looking surprisingly serene.
But then a thought struck me—sharp and unbidden.
"Ray," I asked mentally, a chill running through my thoughts, "Are there any other reincarnated people besides me?"
There was a brief pause.
"Yes, there are," Ray answered. "They've retained the skills of their past lives as well. They're not so different from you, except for their circumstances—families, wealth, power… and in some cases, species."
I narrowed my eyes. "But?"
Ray chuckled dryly. "But they have something you don't."
"What is it?" I asked cautiously.
"Blessings," he replied. "Blessings from their respective angels."
"Wait… they received blessings from their angels? But I didn't?"
Ray's tone shifted subtly, almost suspicious. "Your angel doesn't exist here."
"Doesn't exist?" I echoed, confused.
"You know about the founding of this nation, right?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, unsure of where he was going with this.
"Then let me tell you a tale" Ray said.
Ray's voice grew deeper, like the prelude to a long-forgotten myth surfacing from the depths of time.
"Long ago, beyond the grasp of mortal understanding, there existed a realm untouched by time—a place many called Heaven. It was home to wondrous and majestic beings: unicorns with horns of starlight, phoenixes whose flames burned with the promise of rebirth, pegasus that flew between constellations, and above all—angels, radiant and vast in wisdom and power."
"In the center of this celestial plane sat the Supreme One—the God. Not a god. The God. The one who could mold galaxies with a flick of his wrist and birth laws of existence with a single thought."
"He was not cruel, but neither was He merciful. He simply... was. And one day, in a flicker of divine whim, He created a universe."
"One star among billions was chosen—a blue planet upon which life was seeded. That planet was Earth."
Ray's tone shifted slightly, colored with amusement.
"Humans grew, civilizations bloomed, and as always, chaos followed order. Peace came and went like seasons, and so did war. But the God had grown tired of simply watching. He sent angels—and demons—into this world. They took human form and subtly pulled at the strings behind kingdoms and calamities, war and wisdom, hope and ruin."
"They became legends, myths, and nightmares."
I furrowed my brows, listening intently as Ray continued.
"But as eons passed, God's interest waned again. This world, for all its colors, became a dull canvas. So… He decided to destroy it and begin anew."
"That's when the first rebellion began."
Ray paused, and the air around my consciousness seemed to tighten.
"Not all angels agreed. Three, in particular, defied His order: the Angel of Wisdom, the Angel of Hope, and the Angel of Mercy. They did not wish to abandon humanity."
"The Angel of Wisdom, the brightest and most cherished of God's creations, refused to leave the ruins of Earth. She clung to the remnants of knowledge, memories, and the lost voices of mankind."
"The Angel of Hope wept for the forgotten, for those who would never get a second chance. The Angel of Mercy… she trembled at the idea of cleansing a world already soaked in both beauty and sorrow."
"What happened to them?" I asked.
Ray's voice dropped. "They were punished."
"God moved on. He began a new world—this world. A place of balance, chaos, and design. He sent down new angels, each assigned a unique task. But these tasks were… twisted."
"The Angel of Misery, perhaps bitter from exile, created the first Demon Lord—a being of unrelenting hatred and overwhelming power."
"The Angel of Mercy—stripped of her title and burdened by guilt—was forced to create violence itself. But she did so cleverly. Instead of mindless slaughter, she created Dungeons—echoes of destruction that brought both death and growth. Trials that tested humanity and gave them the power to change."
"The Angel of Hope created beacons within the chaos—heroes. Destined ones who would receive her Blessings and rise in times of despair. While multiple angels in turn also gave their blessings into heroes as well as monsters."
"But the Angel of Wisdom… never arrived."
"She remains in the shattered echoes of Earth, clinging to what was. Forgotten by most, worshipped by none. Her very existence is unknown in this new world."
And in that silence, I finally understood.
"She was my angel," I whispered. "That's why I didn't receive a blessing."
"Exactly," Ray confirmed. "Your reincarnation was an anomaly. Her final attempt to pass on something—anything—into this world. But because she no longer exists here, your soul came through… unrecognized. No blessing. No divine favor. Just a broken thread carried by sheer will."
I sat stunned in the butler's arms as my mother, pale but smiling, reached out to take me. She cradled both me and the newborn boy in her arms, her touch gentle and filled with warmth. Her words, spoken softly, anchored me back to the moment.
"Promise me… you two will always stay close. No matter what happens. Never forget each other, even in the hardest times."
She pressed a kiss to both of our foreheads and passed us back to the waiting butler.
I turned my gaze to my little brother, who blinked sleepily in swaddled peace.
Then my father—stern, tall, and cloaked in a quiet power—stepped forward and picked up the newborn.
"Carrie," he asked softly, "what should we name him?"
It was the first time I'd heard my mother's name in the three years since I came into this world. It carried a strange resonance.
"What about Aiden, my love?" she replied weakly.
"Aiden…" my father mused. "Fine. But let him carry your family name."
"Then… Aiden Solvairis," she said with a proud smile.
Aiden Solvairis.
I felt the name echo in my mind like a whisper. Something stirred. Something deep.
Aiden… Aiden… Solvairis…
Solva—Iris.
My thoughts raced. That name—I'd heard it somewhere before.
Thorny Love.
A memory of a novel flashed in my mind.
"Uhhh…" Ray said nervously.
"Ray, my friend…" I replied mentally, my voice sharpened with a restrained fury, "I think I need an explanation."