REBORN AGAIN TO SUFFER?

As I crossed the threshold of the portal, a surge of anticipation and uncertainty coursed through me. What new lives awaited me beyond that shimmering veil? What marvels, what dangers? When I opened my eyes, the world I had once known—the battered Earth clinging to memory—had vanished in an instant. Before me stretched an immense hall, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadows of gold. Soft, amber light filtered through stained-glass windows high above, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on polished marble floors. Pillars of gleaming ivory rose like ancient sentinels, and tapestries depicting heroic battles fluttered gently in an unseen breeze.

I recalled fleeting fragments of my past. The long days of chip testing, the endless corridors of Gaia Conquest Tech Company, the sterile glow of lab lights. Could this place truly be different? I thought, my heart pounding. I don't yet know—but I'll discover it soon enough.

Then I noticed a figure at the room's far end: a woman clad in attire part nurse, part technician. Her uniform was pristine white, trimmed with silver circuitry. She manipulated circular devices that hovered around her wrists, each humming softly like miniature planets in orbit. I could not fathom what procedure she performed, but her precision was absolute.

Surveying my surroundings, I realized this chamber resembled a palace more than any hospital. Velvet benches lined the walls, and crystal chandeliers dripped light like waterfalls overhead. Ornate vases of exotic flowers filled the air with a heady perfume. Could I—am I truly the son of nobility? I mused, startled. The thought dazzled me for a moment, then slipped away.

The nurse‑technician turned, offering me a gentle smile. "It's time," she said, voice soft yet authoritative. She glided across the floor and extended a gloved hand. "Come. I will take you to your mother."

I followed her down a corridor swathed in tapestries of emerald and gold. Each step muffled beneath my tiny feet as the heavy carpet swallowed sound. At the corridor's end, a grand door of carved ivory stood between us. She pressed her palm to its surface, and intricate runes glowed before it swung open.

Inside, a woman of arresting beauty waited—her features sculpted like a goddess, her gown shimmering with opalescent threads. Tears shone in her eyes as she extended her arms. "My child," she whispered, lifting me tenderly.

As I nestled into her embrace, questions tumbled through my mind. Where is my father? Why isn't he here? The woman's tears fell freely as she choked out, "Forgive me, my love—this noble deceit has trapped me. Four rival wives vie for his affection, and now here I stand as the fifth, burdened by envy and longing."

Before I could comfort her, a commanding voice echoed from the corridor. A tall man strode forward, his dark hair bound in a long ponytail, his eyes alight with pride. "Lara, you have not failed me," he declared. His voice resonated, warm with love. "You have given me a son born of my blood. You have exceeded every hope."

He lifted me into the air, tossing me gently and catching me with care that belied his strength. My world spun in gleeful turbulence, and I thought, This is madness! I've not even seen a day old—why toy with me so? My tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, my senses overwhelmed by joy and confusion.

Suddenly, the air crackled. Leonidas, God of Judgment, appeared at the threshold—his aura stretching like dawn's first light across the hall. He laughed, a sound like distant thunder. "This is your penance for doubting a god," he declared firmly.

Anger flared within me. Who gave him authority over my fate? I glared as he raised a hand, and the room's edges blurred, as though the world itself obeyed his command. "You have passed this realm's trial long ago," he intoned. "Mortals may not return to meddle."

Summoning every ounce of courage, I found my voice. "By what right do you decree my destiny?" I cried, my infant tone fierce. "I demand knowledge of these rules—what I must learn, what dangers lie ahead."

Leonidas's stern visage softened. "Very well. Listen carefully," he said. "You are granted two years to taste mortal affection—to know love, to feel cherished. After that, you will return to your ordained path. Consider this interlude a paid debt to the cosmos."

He placed his hand on my brow and bestowed gifts beyond imagination:

Instantaneous mana restoration, flowing like a spring.

Accelerated regeneration of flesh and spirit.

Passive stat multipliers that magnify each skill and level gained.

A permanent boost to all attributes, refining heart, mind, and form.

From Demos, God of Technology, and Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, I received:

Mastery of crafting and simulation, as if code and magic were one.

Intuitive mastery in sourcing rare materials.

A miniature magic forge, capable of refining any substance.

A wearable interface—like an earring or portable device—serving as command center for every technological feat.

"These boons will guide you in Archreon, in the realm of Dyron," Leonidas concluded. "Use them wisely. Farewell, Leonard." With a final nod, he dissolved into the ether.

Integrity restored, I found myself cradled once more in my mother's arms. My father watched anxiously. "Why is he silent?" he murmured. "He gazes at the ceiling in deep thought."

The nurse offered concern. "Let me check," she said. She tapped me twice on the bottom—gentle as a breeze. Pain jolted me for the first time, and I opened my mouth in a glorious wail.

My father's face brightened. "At last, his cry! A fine child you are." He turned to my mother and said, "We must secure his future. Rival heirs will view him as threat. As the king's own son, only his safety will suffice."

The nurse stepped back, allowing me to drift back to sleep. When I awoke, soft murmurs greeted me. My parents conferred over my destiny. My father produced a ring—a circlet wrought in ancestral gold. "This ring bears an imperial decree: any who bear the crown while wearing it must relinquish their claim at my command."

My mother's eyes widened. "And if they learn of this? They will come for us."

He clasped her hand. "Fear not. Should dark tides rise, we will separate you and our son until the moment arrives for him to claim his birthright."

With tender kisses, he departed. "Take care of him, Lara."

As his footsteps faded, I thought, Leonidas was right. Two years to taste the warmth of mortal love. Nestled in my mother's embrace, each heartbeat felt like a promise.

A maid passed by, resolve etched on her face, hurrying toward one of my father's other wives' chambers.

Moments later, flames erupted throughout the estate. In a distant wing, I heard a chill voice hiss: "Two years—you have exactly two years before I snuff out his life."

Though danger loomed, I felt a spark of defiance. Let them bark. Soon, they will know the strength within this child. I clung to my mother's gown, solace in her warmth, and succumbed once more to dreams.

Two years swept by like a torrent. On the eve of my second birth anniversary, destiny's grand stage was set. A spectacle, unrivaled and inevitable, would reshape Archreon's history—and mine.