[Anthony POV]
Just as I stepped into the pure white portal, it hit me.
Warmth.
Not metaphorical warmth. Real warmth—like being wrapped in sunlight and silk. It felt like every part of me was dissolving, only to be reformed again from something purer, sharper, stronger.
Then came the pain.
Intense, crushing pressure. My body squeezed through some tight, wet tunnel like I was being pushed out of a tube made of muscle and chaos. I'd never imagined reincarnation would feel like crawling out of a cave made of flesh.
But oddly enough… I didn't scream. I didn't even cry.
Because this pain? This was nothing.
Back on Earth, I died with a genetic disease that made every single day a horror movie. Imagine billions of red-hot ants biting you from the inside while your bones felt like they were melting. That was my normal. So yeah, this? This was child's play.
My nerves registered the discomfort, sure, but my mind—my trained, iron-forged mind—tanked through it like a tank through mud.
Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pressure vanished.
A flash of light exploded in front of my eyes.
And I felt it.
Hands.
Someone was holding me.
I felt wet. Slimy. Cold air on my skin.
"What is this?" I thought, blinking furiously. "Am I being… held?"
I squinted up, and my vision—blurry and distorted—focused just enough for me to see…
A giant human?
No—wait.
A woman.
Wearing a maid's uniform.
"Why is a supermodel maid holding me? Did I die and get reborn into a high-budget anime?"
I tried to speak—tried to shout out something sarcastic—but what came out was garbled nonsense.
Literal baby gibberish.
That's when it really hit me.
"Oh. I'm a baby. I've actually been… born."
The woman smiled at me.
"Look at you. Just came out and already causing trouble, huh, little guy?"
Her voice was soft and kind. Her touch was gentle. Midwife? Had to be. And beautiful, too—unfairly so. Was everyone in this world this attractive?
She poked my nose playfully. I frowned instinctively… then started laughing.
I didn't mean to. I just couldn't help it. The absurdity of the situation, the joy, the relief… it all bubbled out.
For the first time in my lives—plural—I was truly free.
She laughed with me. The room did too.
I looked around as best I could, trying to absorb the details. The walls shimmered with gold accents, the lighting was soft and magical, the bedding beneath me was probably worth more than my Earth apartment.
"This is a noble house, no doubt. Damn, they went all out."
Then I was passed from the maid to another woman. Older. Classy. Early fifties, maybe, though she looked like she could pass for forty in Earth terms. A warmth radiated from her the second she touched me.
She looked at me with tearful joy.
"My grandson," she whispered.
I blinked up at her.
"Wait… grandma? My grandma looks this good?!"
I smiled—genuinely, reflexively.
She tickled my chin. I giggled again.
Then she poked my nose and said, "You're going to be trouble."
I tried to nod. I wanted to nod.
"Damn right I am, Grandma. Galactic-level trouble."
What came out of my mouth was some kind of garbled "glurrgaha," which, unfortunately, did nothing to support my growing reputation for genius.
She laughed anyway.
She held me close, whispering things I barely heard, then finally passed me over to someone else.
My heart skipped a beat.
The woman who took me in her arms…
Was my mother.
Long black hair. Pale skin. Eyes like twilight blue. She looked exhausted, but still radiant. Graceful. Soft.
"She's… beautiful," I thought, my chest tightening in a way I hadn't felt in either life. "That's my mom? Are you kidding me?"
She looked down at me, smiling through tired eyes.
I reached out to her face without even thinking. My tiny fingers barely touched her cheek.
She laughed—low, musical, sweet.
"Look at you," she said gently. "Already playing with your mother."
I gurgled something incomprehensible that totally meant "I love you, you're amazing," and she laughed again.
"I actually got reborn as the son of a goddess. Okay. No complaints here."
Then, after a long moment, her smile shifted. She turned to the room.
Her voice was soft, tired… but clear.
"His name… I want his name to be Anthony."
I froze.
My eyes widened.
She didn't say "Ashford" or "Rei" or any of those outlandish fantasy names.
She said Anthony.
My name. From Earth.
Different surname, sure—Ashborn—but the core name was the same.
I laughed again, kicking slightly in surprise.
"You serious? I get to keep my name? That's… perfect."
And from the tone in her voice, she was proud of that name. Happy to give it to me.
"I swear, Mom, I won't disappoint you."
I played with her hair. I smiled. I let the joy wash over me.
The maids took turns doting on me, each one prettier than the last. It felt like a dream—like I'd been cast into some golden-age noble fantasy, and instead of pain and dying alone in a lab, I got this: family, warmth, and love.
Eventually, the door opened again. Another woman walked in. Elegant. Confident.
She carried a crystal bottle in her hand and scolded the others gently, urging them to let my mother rest.
Her name was Freya. I filed it away immediately—she felt important.
She handed the bottle to my mom, and after a few sips, I could tell she was fading. Her eyes drooped. Her body sagged against the pillows.
Before she drifted off, she passed me to Grandma Bella once again.
Bella held me in silence, smiling down.
"Your father made this crib," she whispered, laying me into a beautifully carved cradle.
The moment my body hit the soft bedding, a wave of exhaustion rolled over me too.
The room dimmed. The voices faded.
And as my eyelids slowly closed, I thought:
"Alright. New world, new body, same name… same ambition."
"Let's build something legendary."
And then…
I slept.