I was spiraling hard.
Waking up for a few seconds, then crashing right back into darkness. At first everything burned — my wounds were on fire, every muscle screaming from the beating I'd taken. Then the pain started to dull, turning into a deep, bone-chilling cold. Eventually… nothing.
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes when you die. Mine didn't. It was more like the cliff notes
I saw myself as a kid in the boxing ring, gloves too big, my dad yelling from the corner. Thinking I was going to be the next Iron Mike. I saw myself on the factory floor with the old-timers, mixing concrete, sweat pouring down my back while Dad told me, "If you're gonna run my empire one day, you gotta know every dirty step of it." My first car. My first real drug deal. The money, the girls, the rush.
All of it rushed past.
And honestly? I felt relieved.
I'd tried so hard to be this tough prison shot-caller, but deep down I knew that life was bullshit. Ramen noodles and shitty commissary food replacing real meals… that wasn't living. I was meant for more than that. Way more.
Guess none of that mattered now.
Time to meet my maker.
…Except it didn't happen.
I don't know how long I floated there. Could've been minutes. Could've been years. My eyes were closed. I couldn't feel my body anymore. Nothing but black.
What the fuck? Is death just… this? Sitting in nothing forever?
I started getting pissed. I'm gonna kill myself — then I caught how stupid that sounded. Already dead, dumbass.
Finally — after what felt like a damn century — something changed.
I felt pressure. Real pressure. Like my whole body was being squeezed, contracting, pushing. It hurt like hell, but after all that emptiness, even pain felt like a gift.
Then came the light. Bright. Blinding.
I tried to scream — not from fear, but from pure relief that something was finally happening. The air hit my lungs like a thousand tiny needles. I was covered in warm, sticky blood.
A woman was holding me.
She looked exhausted, hair matted with sweat, but her eyes were bright blue. She was speaking in a language I mostly didn't understand — rough, rolling words with hard edges. German or something. Old. I caught a few sounds here and there, but the rest was just noise.
She cradled me closer and whispered something soft.
That's when it hit me.
I was a fucking baby again.
Reincarnation. No heaven. No hell. Just… this.
At least I still had all my old memories.
The house around us was primitive as hell — wooden beams, smoke-blackened thatch roof, dirt floor, a low fire in the center with no chimney. Definitely far back in the past. Some kind of tribe.
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak, pathetic cry.
Well, it's official. This isn't some fucked-up dream I cooked up .. well at least I really hope not.
I've been adjusting to this new life as best I can.
My mother's name is Edith. She's young — probably late teens — and tall for a woman in this time. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, still a little pale and shaky after giving birth. She had a rough time with me, so we've got a couple of servants helping out. There's an older woman who stays in the house, tending the hearth, cooking, and helping Edith with me. Her husband works for my father, and there's a younger servant lad who runs errands and helps around the forge.
Yeah… my father is definitely a smith.
All day long I hear the constant ringing of metal on metal, and the sharp smell of burning charcoal and hot iron never really leaves the air around our longhall. His name is Wulfric, and it fits him perfectly. The man is a giant — a good head taller than the guy who works for him and towers over my mother. Years of swinging hammers and working the forge have built him thick and broad. Gym bros would definitely accuse him of pissing hot.
I'm their first kid. Or at least the only one who made it this far. I haven't seen any other children running around, so I'm guessing... Kids weren't known to live very long in this era so I dont know ...
Being a baby again isn't as bad as I thought it would be. After prison, You get used to dudes watching you naked in the shower. You get used to the bunk shaking a little oddly at certain times of night. So having a woman wipe my ass and getting a tit when I am hungry isnt so bad.
That might sound weird since she is my mom but come on. I think we can all agree this is an upgrade
Still… it's boring as hell.
There's only so much you can do when you can't even roll over by yourself. Most of the day I just lie there in my little wooden cradle or wrapped in wool blankets, listening to the sounds of the longhall — the crackle of the fire, my mother humming while she spins wool, the distant clang of my father's hammer.
Lucky for me, babies are supposed to sleep a lot.
So that's exactly what I do.
I drift in and out, letting the days blur together while my new body grows.
Because even though I'm stuck in this tiny, helpless sack of meat right now…
I know exactly what I'm going to do with this second chance.