Chapter 2: Reincarnation

"What the fuck happened to me?"

Michael's voice echoed in the strange, disorienting void. He struggled to make sense of the overwhelming sensations that enveloped him. Moments ago, he had locked his eyes in the big eye above, then he found him self evaporating and disappear.

His mind raced with questions, though he found him self in this void floating but for no reasin he found him self somewhat calm. Was it all a hallucination? The massive eye, the sensation of evaporating into nothingness—each memory felt surreal yet vivid.

"Damn, what the hell was that Scarlet eye? Is this just my imagination?" Michael muttered to himself, trying to grasp at straws of reason amidst the palpable fear and confusion. An unseen force tugged at him, causing unbearable pain that seemed to emanate from his very core.

"Ugh, ahhhhh! Nooo! What's happening to me now?" he cried out, his voice choked with a mixture of agony and desperation.

The pull intensified, dragging him through a dimensionless space that defied all physical laws he knew. "Is this hell? Nooo! I want to go to heaven," he pleaded, his thoughts racing as he struggled against the relentless force.

Time lost its meaning as the journey continued, each moment stretching into eternity. Hope flickered faintly within him, a fragile beacon against the encroaching darkness of uncertainty.

Instead of finding peace, Michael found himself submerged in a swirling sea of muted colors—shades of black, white, and gray blurred together in an indistinct haze. Distant sounds pierced the void: the faint cries of a woman, the distant voice of a man. When he tried to speak, only a feeble cry escaped his lips.

Amidst the confusion, a muffled voice cut through the emptiness. "Congratulations, Sir and Madam, he's a healthy boy," the voice declared, shattering the silence with unexpected clarity.

"So, that's how it happened: I was evaporated by a massive eye, endured excruciating pain, and then became a baby. Is this a wild dream or my reality?" Michael mused silently, slowly taking in his surroundings. He noticed an elderly woman in maid attire and a stunning woman with long, dark, slightly curly hair framing big blue eyes that resembled the ocean. Despite signs of weariness and pallor, her face exuded a gentle strength and warmth that drew him inexplicably. He couldn't help but admire her long eyelashes and pert nose. "She must be my mother; this instinctive attraction confirms it."

While Michael was captivated by his mother's beauty, a large, calloused hand gently lifted him, cradling him against a broad chest. Glancing up, he saw a middle-aged man with a beard, whose hair resembled a canvas painted with dark ink. A scar ran from his dark eye to his mouth, adding character to his otherwise handsome face.

"Hi Michael, I'm your Father. Can you say 'da da'?" the man asked warmly, his voice resonating with paternal affection. Michael noticed his mother and the elderly maid looking on with amused expressions. "Darling, he's just been born," his mother replied, gently taking him from his father's arms.

As she held him close, tears rolled down her cheeks onto Michael's face. He felt her overwhelming love and maternal instincts enveloping him, reassuring him in ways words could never express.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. For Michael, navigating the world as a baby with an adult mind proved unexpectedly challenging. His baby body, though fragile and dependent, housed a mind that retained memories and understanding far beyond its years. The transition brought frustrations and discoveries.

"And now, my first birthday approaches," Michael reflected with a mix of amusement and resignation. "At least I've stopped pooping at night, Damn how embarrassing."

In the midst of learning to control his body's basic functions, Michael gradually learned more about his surroundings. His parents,Celine Sparrow and Argus Sparrow proved to be pillars of love and strength. Celine, with her nurturing presence and unwavering patience, seemed to Michael like an angel sent to guide him through this unfamiliar existence. Argus, with his rugged exterior and gentle demeanor, embodied a fatherly warmth that Michael cherished deeply.

Yet, their world remained a bewildering tapestry of unfamiliar sights and sounds. Each day brought new wonders and challenges.

From the window of his nursery, Michael watched his father's training sessions—swordplay that defied mortal limits, movements so swift they blurred the boundaries between skill and magic.

"Every swing of that sword... it's like he's dancing with death," Michael marveled, his eyes wide with a mix of admiration and perplexity. "And then there are those moments when he apologizes to his wife and child for breaking the ground, only to mend it with a flick of his finger. Just what kind of magical, monstrous being are you, Dad?"

The world outside their home proved equally fascinating. Passersby wielded swords, spears, wands, and hammers with a casual familiarity that both awed and perplexed Michael. Each encounter revealed a layer of their society's complexity and intrigue, leaving him hungry for understanding.

As Michael grew accustomed to his infant body, he found solace in his parents' loving embrace and the simple joys of discovery. Yet, a lingering question gnawed at him—a question that lingered in the depths of his mind, waiting to be answered.

"Is this my new reality, or just a dream?" Even though months had pass by Michael still wondered, his gaze drifting towards the window once more. Beyond its wooden frame lay a world brimming with mysteries yet to be unraveled—a world that beckoned him to explore, to understand, and perhaps, to find his place within it.

For now, he would embrace each day with the curiosity of a child and the wisdom of a soul far older than his years. And amidst the laughter and love that surrounded him, Michael Sparrow began his journey—a journey that promised both challenges and wonders beyond imagining.

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While Michael gazed out the window, Celine watched his baby face, marveling at the peculiar tranquility that often settled over him. From the moment he was born, he had been an enigma—a child who cried only once, yet seemed to ponder deeply about everything around him. His eyes, so large and profound, would fixate on the world outside as if searching for answers.

She remembered the day of his birth vividly—the pain, the joy, and the overwhelming love that had flooded her heart when she first held him.

Michael's arrival had been accompanied by a series of inexplicable events: the strange disappearance into the void,

the overwhelming pain he had endured, and then his miraculous birth into their world.

It was as if fate had woven an intricate tapestry, binding their lives together.

As she looked at him now, nestled in his father's strong arms, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and concern. Michael was growing quickly, his mind seemingly far more mature than his infant body suggested.

His fascinated face with his father's swordplay and the magic that seemed to flow effortlessly from Argus's fingertips only added to the mystery surrounding him.

Yet, despite the mysteries, Celine found solace in the love that surrounded them—the unbreakable bond between mother, father, and child. She had always believed in destiny, in the idea that each person had a purpose to fulfill. Perhaps Michael's presence in their lives was a sign of greater things to come, a beacon of hope and possibility.

She leaned closer, brushing a gentle kiss against Michael's forehead, feeling the softness of his baby skin against her lips. "You're a wonder, my dear," she whispered softly, her voice filled with tenderness. "A mystery wrapped in innocence, destined for greatness."

Outside the window, the world continued to unfold—a realm filled with magic and wonder, where each day brought new discoveries and challenges. Celine knew that their journey was just beginning, that there were many more chapters yet to be written in the story of Michael Sparrow.

As she looked into his deep, contemplative eyes, she smiled, knowing that whatever lay ahead, they would face it together—as a family bound not only by blood but by love, strength, and the enduring promise of tomorrow.