The thumping of a calm drum and warmth... no, a heartbeat and a body's heat, I realized. I was being born.

I'd admit, when I'd chosen to be a child again for the added bonus and chance to establish myself in this world, I hadn't fully expected to be mentally present literally from birth.

The dialogue box had been pretty clear though; it was my fault for not fully thinking out the ramifications of my actions.

My physical mind shouldn't have been capable of processing an adult's thoughts and feelings, proving to me yet again that there'd be a learning curve for how this world worked.

The more I thought about it, the more I did not enjoy the prospect of starting completely from scratch. I'd be defenseless until I could walk, in fact I'd have to learn to crawl first, and before that to just hold my head up.

If this world was anywhere near as cruel and dangerous as the actual human history of Earth had been, then I realized I didn't have that high of a statistical chance of survival and for some reason I didn't think the system was going to hold my hand.

All of these thoughts were abruptly halted, however, as I felt a world of cold and discomfort surround me as my small body was quickly drained of the heat that it had grown accustomed to for months.

I resisted the urge to cry, even as I felt it well in my throat. Instead I winced with the pain. I heard words in a language I didn't understand, filled with tones of concern and worry.

Warm hands hefted me up as I heard the labored paintings of who I presumed to be my mother. I felt blind and deaf as my ears rang and my eyes were tightly sealed.

It was all but an almost titanic struggle to force my eyelids to raise open. I was met with the sight of wooden walls and the torso of what appeared to be a man that I was being handed off to.

Was this my new father perhaps? I couldn't raise my head to look up at him, but I didn't need to; he quickly seemed to take notice of my peering eyes, even as I struggled to focus my blurred vision.

I saw him then. A part of me felt somewhat guilty. Was I robbing him of the chance to have a real son? My own father had never been around, but I had grown past that trauma and hardened myself into a warrior and then a parent myself--a good parent at that; it was one of the few things in my life that I allowed myself to draw true pride from, other than my past service and business success.

This human man, as that was what I now saw he was, would be raising a son with an old soul. How would that affect our relationship and what would he do if he found out?

Even still, as my eyes focused for a split moment, I could see my father more clearly. He had a strong set jaw and was generally very handsome. I could see a soldier's gleam in his brown eyes and I felt strangely protected as some of the pain of my coming into the world faded.

[Father's Protection Buff Applied: For the next day your discomfort at finding your footing in this new life is reduced greatly.]

The notification that appeared above my direct vision was unaffected by the blurriness of it.

I wondered, did the system notification react to my true and instinctual feelings, or create them artificially? I felt a concern far beyond my new age grow in my tiny chest. I had always strongly and viciously defended my right to make my own choices and break down the obstacles in my path. I did not at all like the implication that this new world might affect my mind in ways that would not originate from my own will.

My father smiled at me, tears welling in his strong eyes. Again the feeling of connection rose in my own heart. I knew what he was experiencing now, to become a father was one of the greatest human experiences possible, one that would seldom be matched by any other in his life.

My sense of time was somewhat dulled, whether due to my age, discomfort, or being lost in my own thoughts, but I soon felt myself being passed into the weak-feeling, but still stable arms of another.

These arms were softer and the absolutely beautiful face that peered down at me smiled with nothing but love.

[Mother's Love Buff Applied: For the next day your discomfort from finding your footing in this world is further reduced; this effect is doubled and reapplied when you are in your mother's arms.]

I had caught the feeling before the notification, that much I was sure of. Still, the system controlled the world, as far as I knew, so it would likely be able to control the order of operations in which it influenced me and then notified me of that influence, if it was actually affecting my mind and emotions.

Still, these feelings felt real, and like nothing I had ever really felt in a long time--if ever. Perhaps these parents would fulfill their roles better than his first life's had.

Images of a man walking out the door, old suitcase in tow, to the ragged screaming of a worn down young woman filled my memory. Then the sight of the same woman turned middle aged wasting away at the end of a self-applied needle's point. I remembered suits and state agents taking me away, group homes and worse.

For a small moment the pain I felt was replaced by a different feeling, as I heard my mother speak to him for the first time.

Somehow, I understood her:

"Hello, Castien. We love you," she said, her voice still enchanting despite being worn ragged from the trial of childbirth.

I simply stared up at her, in shock that my old and calloused heart could be feeling what it now was.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to have something better as far as starts went in this new life.

Suddenly, though, just as I was thinking this, my mother began to cough, a warm liquid that I knew all too well from my time at war touched my tiny face, and I felt strong arms grab me.

Panic began to beat in my chest as my world once more grew white.

[Congratulations. You have achieved success on your rolls to be successfully born without any issues. Now rolling for early childhood survival.]

What did the World Spirit just say?

My now disembodied heart still pounded in my chest, from my instinctual worry over my mother and now as I began to realize that I may have made even more of a mistake than I thought by choosing the seemingly far more dangerous of the two options presented to me for entering into this new world.

I didn't have much time to contemplate the fact that the system didn't appear to be pulling any punches whatsoever, though, as it quickly presented me with further notifications.

[Critical failure on early childhood survival roll. Results populating.]

I found myself violently thrown back into my new body, but it was different now. Blankets swaddled me in a small crib, but it felt like my bones were cracking with a feverish heat from the inside out and I could feel cold sweats running down my entire body.

My vision was even worse than before and it was all that I could do to see a strange cacophony of gentle lights descending upon me from above.

The light swirled with a life of its own and settled upon my burning skin. The strong smell of cinnamon and green wood sap met my tiny nose. For a moment I felt a strong cooling sensation settle on the surface of my body, seeming to promise relief, but just as quickly it was gone and the inferno of pain inside still raged.

[Spell Resistance is greater than 100%. Greater Rapid Regeneration Spell resisted.]

The almost healing light faded and the frustrated sobbing began.

"Nothing works," I heard a familiar feminine voice bemoan. I saw long, sickly pale fingers gripping my crib in exhaustion.

How had my mind pieced together language? Was that an effect of the World Spirit accommodating my aged consciousness, or of my high Intelligence roll? It certainly seemed far too early for a child my physical age to start understanding speech.

"You've used up all your mana, you need to rest," my father told my mother; the man clearly had concern for both his wife and his son, but was trying to remain sensible and calm for both their sakes--something I could respect and had done many times for my own wife and daughters.

"It's my fault, James, he's sick because of me," my mother lamented. "I never should have had a child."

"You didn't know," her husband comforted her and pulled her close. "You couldn't have known you were sick."

"I can't let him become one of them. I'd let myself die first," she ignored his words of calm. "Children shouldn't become monsters... this disease isn't natural, it can't be, it's evil."

"If you're right and this is a created disease then Fate might save him yet. We don't know why your magic isn't working, but no other afflicted has shown a resistance to magic as a symptom," James said. "There's a chance it's just something he's been given by the Blessed and that he'll be able to resist whatever foul sorcery has created this disease and recover."

"But what if it's a new strain?" the woman asked. "What if it's been created to stop the Sisterhood from combating it as we have been?"

"Viessa, I know, but it's already progressed past Restoration spells and Divine magic doesn't work," James said with a tone of sobering acceptance and held her more closely. "I'm not going to let our son die."

"What do you--" his mother's words were cut off by the sound of a thudding chop.

"I'm sorry, my love," James said. "You're tired, but made of stronger stuff than what I just hit you with. You would never let me do what I have to, to save our child."

I watched as my father carried my mother from the room, presumably to place her somewhere comfortable before returning. What James had done didn't seem at all malevolent and, while my blurred vision didn't allow me to make out the rise and fall of Viessa's chest, I didn't doubt that it was present.

I soon felt the man's strong grasp pulling me up into his arms and, just as it had before, some of my pain faded.

[Father's Protection Buff Applied: While you are in James' arms your pain at being afflicted with Soulrot is reduced; this effect is reapplied whenever you are in your father's arms.]

"Come on, buddy," James said. "I'm sorry you had to see that; I promise mom's fine, but she would have tried to stop me. You and your mother are the most important things in the world to me, but she feels the same way about the two of us. She's too stubborn, but I hope she'll thank me by the time we meet again."

I felt my father adjust my swaddling to make sure it covered me well. "It's cold out there just... Please hold on for me, okay? I'm going to get you the help you need, I promise."

The world began to fade to white once more.

[Soulrot has been applied, -5 Intelligence, -5 Strength, -5 Constitution, -5 Agility. Rolling for survival.]

I felt a cold calmness coming over me. For a moment, as the Word Spirit once more detached my conscious mind from the timeline, the pain was gone and I began to realize that my survival was completely out of my hands for the time being.

It seemed that my mother was some kind of mage and that I was very sick, though she didn't look the best herself. Whatever this Soulrot was, it apparently resisted Divine Magic and, unfortunately, I realized that I might have hurt my chances of making it to adulthood by not prioritizing the Luck stat for these early childhood roles, that I admittedly didn't know would exist.

Apparently, my mother thought she should be able to save me even still, but I may have doomed myself by choosing to be immune to the very magic that apparently may have been able to pull me back from the brink.

The only thing that was slowly beginning to haunt me, however, was what Viessa had said about becoming a monster.

Whatever this Soulrot was, it didn't sound mundane at all.

But, as was becoming the norm, the system soon pulled me from my thoughts.

[Roll successful. Progressing storyline.]