His being healed completely, restoring itself to its original state as if no damage had ever been inflicted.
Every fracture vanished, every tear sealed, every trace of strain erased. Sensation returned in full, solid and unmistakable. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his form was whole.
Just as Axiros was about to let out a sigh of relief, something felt wrong.
A sudden tug pulled at his head, not painful, but firm. Startling. Real. Before he could react, the sensation intensified.
He felt hands grasping him from his head, unseen yet undeniable, fingers tightening as they began to pull.
"Mam, push. He is almost out!" A voice cried out outside. The woman in front the person groaned in pain.
The hands finally succeeded, pulling the baby free.
That baby was Axiros.
The moment he was drawn out, a violent rush of light flooded his vision. It was blinding, overwhelming, far too intense after an eternity of darkness. Sensation crashed into him all at once, heat, cold, pressure, sound, each one foreign and unbearable in its suddenness.
The sensations overwhelmed his undeveloped body.
'Ahhh, goddamn it. Someone turn of the lights. I am going blind here!' He cried out, trying to cover his eyes with his tiny arms.
"Congratulations mam. You have given birth to a boy!" The voice once gaian spoke.
Axiros could now see the person clearly. It was a nurse, dressed in the usual blue uniform, her movements calm and practiced. Her face was partially obscured by focus, yet there was no hostility in her expression, only routine and care.
Nearby, the mother reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she extended it toward the baby, yearning to hold him in her arms. The motion was hesitant but filled with emotion, a quiet desperation born from relief and exhaustion.
The nurse gently covered the baby with a small cloth, wrapping him securely. Then, with deliberate care, she handed him over.
"Why isn't he crying? Is he alright?" His mother asked the nurse cradking Axiros within her arms, clearly worried about Axiros's well being.
"Oh he is more than fine. I have never seen a baby more healthier than him." The nurse said.
She then took Axiros into her arms and flipped him upside down with practiced ease. The sudden inversion startled him.
Yet despite the shock, no cry escaped him. His instincts reacted, but his will remained strangely composed.
Then it came.
A violent shock of pain burst through his body without warning. It was sharp, raw, and overwhelming in a way he had not felt in an unfathomably long time.
His nerves screamed in unison, his undeveloped body unable to process the sensation properly. The pain was brief, but it was enough to jolt him fully into awareness.
'How dare she! How dare she hit my protected areas!' He cried out, as the nurse slapped his but, trying to make him cry.
But it was in vain as he didn't shed a single tear. The concept of crying had become irrelevant to Axiros long back.
Even with his undeveloped, baby body, which fed him overwhelming emotions, it wasn't enough to make him cry.
"Looks like we have a tough one here. He is a strong healthy boy, mam. You have nothing to worry about." The nurse convinced the mother, handing Axiros back over into her arms.
"Hmm." She spoke as she took the child into her arms.
Axiros found himself enveloped in a strange familial warmth. It was a sensation he had felt countless times before, always fleeting, always destined to be taken away. The familiarity of it carried both comfort and an old, quiet ache.
Even so, he felt at ease. There was a sense of belonging, subtle but undeniable. The simple comfort of resting in his mother's arms, a feeling of safety that required no thought or effort.
It was a kinship that ran far deeper than blood, rooted in instinct and shared existence rather than memory.
For now, it was enough.
The nurse quietly left the room, her role finished. There was nothing more for her to do. She closed the door behind her, leaving the mother alone with her child, granting them the silence and space to bond.
In that moment, the world narrowed to warmth, breath, and quiet presence.
"My little bundle of joy. My warmth in this world. I am so happy." The mother said in absolute joy.
Axiros giggled softly at the sensation. It was an unrefined sound, instinctive rather than deliberate. He reached his small arms outward, clumsily trying to grasp his mother's face, drawn to the warmth and presence before him.
She was an ethereal woman.
Even in her exhaustion, her presence carried a quiet authority, the kind that did not need to assert itself to be felt. Fatigue weighed on her features, yet it did nothing to diminish the composure she naturally exuded. It lingered in the way she held herself, in the steadiness of her gaze.
Her brunette hair cascaded down her back in loose strands, glossy and well-kept despite the circumstances. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the room, her golden eyes gleamed faintly, catching and reflecting the light in a way that felt almost unnatural.
With his countless years of experience and relentless analysis, Axiros immediately recognized it.
She was a practitioner, someone who wielded a form of energy. Not through tools or technology, but through herself. That realization carried immense weight. It meant that this world was not barren of power. There was an energy system here, one that could be sensed, cultivated, and ultimately mastered.
This was favorable.
With an available energy type, Axiros could begin again. Even in this fragile body, he could draw upon his seed of existence, carefully and indirectly. Certain abilities, subtle ones, could be employed without destabilizing his form.
"My little child, you will be Axiros form now on. You will reach great heights of power one day." She said as she cradled the baby.
'Axiros huh? Once again, fate is toying with me. A name that I have carried on in countless lives, lives with me once more.' He thought.
He nodded internally in agreement to his mother's bold statement . He knew whatever he did, he had to survive and reach the peak of this world.
The moment bled into eternity, stretching thin until time itself seemed to dissolve into a continuous stream of quiet awareness.
Soon, they were out of the hospital, heading home.
Axiros's senses were bombarded the moment they stepped outside. The city unfolded in breathtaking clarity, immaculate beyond anything he thought it would look like.
Although not the best of all the wordls he had reincarnated into, he knew it ranked pretty high.
Vast streets of polished alloy and reinforced glass stretched endlessly, reflecting the sky above like mirrors.
Towers rose in elegant spirals, their surfaces lined with luminous runes and holographic signage that shifted and reconfigured in real time.
The air itself felt alive.
Above them, streams of flying cars flowed along invisible lanes, gliding smoothly without sound or exhaust.
Their undersides glowed softly as they adjusted altitude with perfect precision, weaving past one another in flawless coordination. Occasionally, larger transports passed overhead, casting fleeting shadows before vanishing into the clouds.
Teleportation arrays dotted the cityscape, circular platforms embedded into sidewalks, building entrances, and transit hubs. Light flared briefly as people stepped through, disappearing and reappearing elsewhere in the city in the span of a heartbeat.
No alarms. No disruption. Just seamless displacement, treated as casually as walking.
Automated drones hovered at varying heights, maintaining infrastructure, regulating traffic, or projecting information.
Some carried packages, others scanned surroundings with faint pulses of light. Everything moved with purpose, governed by systems far beyond primitive automation.
Energy was everywhere.
It hummed through the streets, pulsed within the buildings, flowed invisibly through conduits beneath the city. Axiros could feel it, not directly, not yet, but enough to know it permeated every aspect of this world.
Technology and energy cultivation were not separate disciplines here. They were integrated, inseparable.
Cradled in his mother's arms, Axiros took it all in.
This was not merely a technologically advanced city.
It was a civilization that had mastered both progress and power.
'This is a perfect starting point for me. I WILL escape the loop this time!' He thought with conviction.
Within minutes, they arrived at their home.
The shift in scenery was drastic. One moment, the polished brilliance of the city dominated the horizon; the next, it faded behind dense layers of green as towering structures gave way to towering trees.
The road narrowed, curving gently as it threaded deeper into the woods, until the presence of civilization became little more than a distant memory.
The scent of the forest permeated the air.
It was fresh and grounding, earth, bark, and leaves mingling together in a way that felt ancient and untouched. Each breath carried a calm weight to it, steadying and familiar, as though the land itself exhaled alongside them.
A gentle breeze brushed against Axiros's skin, light and unhurried. It carried the coolness of shade and the warmth of sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The sensation was subtle, but profound after so long without physical feeling.
Birds chirped from unseen branches, their calls echoing softly through the trees. Farther off, the distant howls of animals drifted through the forest, not threatening, but natural, part of a living rhythm that filled the silence without breaking it.
The atmosphere was serene.
'Fuck! All of this just for it to be doomed anyway.' He sighed.
"Welcome home, little Axiros." His mother told cheerfully as she entered the house.
The house itself was calm in its presence, modest and unassuming, with nothing extravagant about its design.
It did not demand attention or awe. Instead, it blended naturally with its surroundings, as though it had always belonged among the trees.
It was built from a strange material, smooth yet textured, neither wood nor stone. The substance was unfamiliar to Axiros, unlike anything he had encountered in his countless lives.
Yet, despite that, it stirred something deep within his mind. A faint resonance. A sense of recognition without memory.
The material seemed to listen, to quietly respond to the presence around it. It held warmth without heat, solidity without weight. To Axiros, it felt deliberate, crafted with intent rather than convenience.
Whatever it was, this house was more than shelter.
He couldn't figure out what it was yet, but he knew he would eventually.