New World, New Life II

Tony opened his eyes. A warm sensation was spreading through his body—he could feel it, absorb it, and it was strengthening him. As he looked around, he realized he was in a cramped space. White light emanated from the walls of the peravo, and he felt a steady stream of knowledge flowing into his head—neither too fast nor too slow. That was how he knew he was in a peravo.

A peravo was a tube-like container where kids were placed right after birth to increase their lifespan, impart clan knowledge, and help them merge with the ways of the world more quickly. Within days of being born, a child could contribute to the country—learning the most basic techniques, spells, and other skills. The process also enhanced their bones, muscles, tissues, and even helped form their teeth. So, if you strolled through a market and saw a two-year-old bargaining with a trader, you wouldn't be surprised—a chubby, nilly-willy, cute kid haggling over prices was perfectly normal. A talented baby fighting an adult (a rather foolish adult of course) was acceptable. A tiny kid in love with a grown-up, married, and living together happily? Now that wasn't normal. Don't get the wrong idea—that's just not right.

With a hissing sound, the peravo opened, and the baby was released.

"How are you feeling, kid?" a man in the room asked.

Tony raised his head at the sound of the voice. Looking around, he saw a middle-aged man leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, staring at him. The man sported an overgrown beard adorned with ornaments, was bald, and had a giant axe resting just out of reach.

The man made his way over and said, "Don't worry—you'll be just fine in a few minutes." Then, with one swift motion, he lifted Tony out of the peravo. "Here, put these on," he said, handing him a set of clothes.

Tony took the clothes and examined them curiously. Drawing upon the steady flow of knowledge within him, he recognized that what he was looking at were clothes. By the texture of the material, its weight, color, and appearance, he learned they were made from the hide of the byun lizard—designed to provide comfort to their tender skin and protect them from the harsh environment of their world. "Okay, so it says here that to wear these clothes, you'll have to do it like this, this, and this," he thought.

"Aaand here we go. All done," he declared once he finished dressing. He then looked towards the bald man who was waiting at the door.

"Come on, move those tiny legs of yours—your father's waiting!" the man urged. Tony tried to run after him but failed miserably; he tripped, fell, and bumped his head.

"Waaaaah!" he began to cry.

The bald man sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. He was already stressed—he had to withdraw from the frontlines because of this kid. Tony was one of the seven generals' children, and the generals couldn't simply pull back from the frontlines for any reason. Instead, he was tasked with fetching Tony and bringing him to the children's home for special training.

His teammates were fighting for their lives, and now he had been sent to train a kid who could barely walk. The man took another look at the baby—now slowly recovering from his fall and trying to get up.

Well, at least he recovered quickly, he mused. His mission was to train Tony—and the other children at the home—for six months before returning to the frontlines.

The bald man held the door open for the kid to pass through. They were in an underground, heavily guarded hospital designed not only for delivering babies but also for instilling the knowledge needed to survive their strange world—infested as it was with monsters and wild phenomena.

At one point, the caretaker stopped and said, "Oh, your name is Abunar." (The man was renaming Tony—his previous life as Tony was now over, and he would be known as Abunar from this point on. It seems that he doesn't remember anything from his previous life, damn that's just sad.)

As Abunar struggled to keep pace, he repeated the name softly to get used to it: "Abunar… Abunar…"

"What's yours, mister?" Abunar asked as he managed to keep up with the man, who was now taking a casual stroll through the halls.

"You can call me Harry. I'm your caretaker and trainer for the next six months. You'll be sent to the children's home—a strict facility that will show you the ropes along with other kids your age. You and your squad will undergo very harsh training to emerge as elite, well-prepared soldiers," Harry explained.

Abunar nodded, trying to digest all the information.

They finally arrived outside the facility, where a private chopper awaited them. The facility was hidden deep within a forest, its existence obscured by advanced illusions that made it seem as if it didn't exist at all. The chopper was a prototype model, designed to conceal itself perfectly while moving with astonishing speed. It was sleek, with a matte black finish that absorbed light, and its rotor blades cut through the air almost silently, giving it the appearance of gliding. The interior was surprisingly spacious and fitted with state-of-the-art instruments—built for stealth and high performance.

"Well, are you ready for this world, young man?" Harry smiled at Abunar.

"Yes!" Abunar returned the smile as Harry carried him and placed him in one of the seats inside the chopper.