Darkness didn’t feel the same anymore.
Before, it had been abstract. Cosmic. Endless.
Now it was warm.
Wet.
Alive.
My consciousness returned slowly — like a computer rebooting after a forced shutdown.
For a second, I thought I’d been erased.
Then—
Heartbeat.
Strong.
Panicked.
Close.
Right.
Still inside.
“Memory Stability: 9%,” a faint blue text flickered in the void of my perception.
“…Still here,” I muttered inside my own mind.
But something had changed.
I could feel more now.
The pressure of muscles contracting around me.
The rush of blood.
The tremble of fear.
And the fear wasn’t mine.
It was hers.
Footsteps pounded.
Wood splintered.
A door shattered.
The heartbeat spiked violently.
She stumbled.
Pain radiated through her body — and into mine.
A man’s voice rang out from somewhere beyond flesh and bone.
“By order of the Holy Tribunal! Stand down, witch!”
Witch?
Excuse me?
Another voice, colder.
“Hand over the vessel. The oracle has confirmed it. The anomaly is inside her.”
My thoughts froze.
Anomaly.
They were talking about me.
My “Observer” skill pulsed faintly.
Information began threading itself together automatically.
The god found me.
The world reacted.
And now the church is involved.
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Fantastic.
I haven’t even been born and I already have political enemies.
“I won’t!” she cried.
Her voice cracked — but it wasn’t weak.
It was desperate.
“You said it would be a blessing! You said the prophecy meant hope!”
Silence answered her.
Then—
“Prophecies are interpreted by the Church,” the cold voice replied. “And this child is no blessing.”
Something metallic scraped against stone.
Weapons.
Through her rising terror, I sensed something else.
Resolve.
She turned.
Ran.
The world outside blurred — not visually, but through sensation.
Cold night air.
Mud under boots.
Rain starting to fall.
Each step sent shockwaves through my tiny undeveloped body.
“Skill: Awareness Lv.1 → Lv.2.”
Apparently near-death experiences are great for leveling.
The blue interface flickered again.
World Condition: Instability Increasing
Correction Force: Active
Correction force?
Then I felt it.
A pressure in the air — subtle, mathematical.
Like invisible gears turning.
Reality adjusting.
Something unseen trying to balance.
And I understood with sick clarity:
The world has an immune system.
And I am the infection.
She tripped.
Hard.
Pain exploded through her.
I felt the impact ripple around me.
Bootsteps approached.
Three of them.
One heavy.
Two light.
A hand grabbed her cloak.
“Enough.”
She struggled.
Clawed.
Cried.
“I beg you—”
A sharp crack.
Silence.
The heartbeat became erratic.
Weak.
My mind went blank.
No.
No no no no no—
I didn’t ask to start my new life with this.
The heavy footsteps came closer.
A gauntleted hand pressed against her abdomen.
Against me.
Cold metal through fabric.
“Strange…” one of the men murmured.
“I feel it too.”
The other voice — the colder one — lowered.
“It’s not mana.”
“It’s not demonic.”
“It’s not divine.”
A pause.
“It’s… foreign.”
My “Soul Anchor” flared violently.
Hostile Analysis Detected.
The air thickened.
And then—
Another presence descended.
Not the laughing god from before.
This one was different.
Still ancient.
Still overwhelming.
But calm.
Measured.
Like a judge entering a courtroom.
The men froze.
Even the rain seemed to hesitate.
A voice echoed — not from above, not from anywhere.
From everywhere.
“The vessel is under provisional protection.”
The cold church official dropped to one knee instantly.
“Divine Arbiter—!”
Arbiter?
So there are multiple gods here.
Great.
The calm voice continued.
“Correction is premature.”
“B-But the oracle—”
“Faulty.”
The word wasn’t loud.
But it silenced the night.
I felt something wrap around me.
Not warmth.
Not light.
A boundary.
Like a thin barrier between me and the rest of reality.
The heavy-handed man hesitated.
“…Then what is it?”
The answer came slowly.
Deliberately.
“A misplacement.”
That word hit me harder than any blade could.
Misplacement.
Not chosen.
Not hero.
Not demon.
Just… incorrectly sorted.
The Arbiter spoke again.
“It will not awaken fully until birth.”
“Observation permitted.”
“Interference prohibited.”
The pressure vanished.
The rain resumed.
The presence withdrew.
And suddenly the world felt smaller again.
The men stood in silence.
The cold one exhaled.
“…We will report this.”
The heavy man removed his hand.
“Leave the woman. If the Arbiter protects it, we do not touch it.”
Footsteps retreated.
Silence returned.
Except—
The heartbeat.
Weak.
Fading.
No.
No no no—
I forced everything inside me to concentrate.
“Soul Anchor,” I commanded.
The skill ignited like a burning thread.
A faint glow pulsed around my existence.
Skill Evolution Triggered
Soul Anchor → Life Thread (Incomplete)
A thin strand of something — energy? essence? will? — extended from me outward.
Into her.
The heartbeat stabilized.
Barely.
But enough.
I didn’t understand how.
I didn’t understand why.
But instinct told me something terrifying:
I had just altered causality.
And somewhere deep in the unseen mechanics of this world—
Something took notice.
Hours later, I felt movement again.
Gentler this time.
Other hands.
Different voices.
“She’s alive.”
“By miracle.”
“Take her inside.”
A door creaked open.
Warmth returned.
And I realized something crucial.
The Church fears me.
One god hunts me.
Another tolerates me.
And the world itself wants to correct me.
But the only person who chose me—
Is a woman who doesn’t even know what I am.
For the first time since reincarnating…
I felt something close to purpose.
If this world sees me as an error—
Then I’ll become the error it can’t erase.
And this time…
I won’t waste it.
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