Chapter 8 — The Crawl Before the Run
The next great challenge in Violet De'ora's baby career was crawling.
And she was determined to get that right.
The first time she tried to lift a hand, nothing happened.
Not even a twitch.
The second time—same result.
The third, fourth, and fifteenth attempts… also disasters.
But Violet wasn't a quitter.
For an entire week, she practiced like a tiny soldier on a mission.
Finally, she managed to raise one hand without face-planting.
Three days later, she mastered the other.
"Host, well done! You're almost crawling! I can already see you doing it!"
Vira's voice sounded so smugly proud that Violet couldn't help but feel a little glow of satisfaction.
Feeling inspired, she decided to take it up a notch—sitting.
Sitting, she discovered, was way harder than expected.
Whoever said babies had it easy clearly never tried being one.
Her tiny back refused to cooperate, her balance was a joke, and every time she tried to sit on her father's arm, she'd topple backward like a rolled-up blanket trying to stand straight.
It took her two and a half months to sit up properly without falling.
When she finally managed it, she wanted to shout hallelujah!—if only her baby lungs would let her.
Next came stretching those stubby little legs.
Whenever she was left alone, she'd secretly wiggle her feet like she was rehearsing for a dance show.
After a week, she could feel blood rushing through her legs.
Then she tried curling them inward, outward, opening and closing her kneecaps like she was doing baby yoga.
That routine lasted almost a month.
What Violet didn't know was that all her "secret training" was being filmed.
Her mother, Lily, had been recording everything to show Kingsley, who in turn couldn't resist posting them online.
Each post came with over-the-top captions and hashtags like:
#VioletRaisesHand ,SirYesSir,
#OmgICried
#BothHandsNowHallelujah
#SheSatTodayButGravityHatesHer
#SheWigglesHerFeetICantTakeIt
Every time Kingsley posted something, it somehow made the news.
"Breaking: Genius Baby Violet Sits Without Falling—Will She Fly Next?"
The headline played across national television as if the world itself was cheering for her.
The De'ora heiress had officially become the country's most famous infant, her every sneeze and giggle broadcasted to millions.
Kingsley was thrilled.
Lily cried tears of joy.
The rest of Migan… had mixed feelings.
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At the Crescent family's second-branch home, Joe Crescent was watching yet another "Violet Update" on the evening news.
He groaned.
"Seriously? What's next, an award for breathing? The De'oras must be out of their minds."
He turned off the TV, muttering about wasted airtime.
But baby Julia—Clara reborn—heard the broadcast before the screen went dark.
And her tiny fists clenched in silent fury.
That smug Violet was crawling already? Impossible.
Julia would not be left behind.
So began the Great Baby Race.
If Violet lifted a hand, Julia did too—forcing her weak arms until they trembled.
If Violet sat up, Julia tried the same, nearly breaking her back in the process.
Then one fateful day, the news declared:
"Six-Month-Old Violet De'ora Starts Crawling!"
Julia saw red.
She skipped all the baby steps—literally—and tried crawling right away.
The result was disastrous.
Her fragile bones strained, and she collapsed in pain.
If not for her ancient skeletal system intervening, she might have ended up permanently paralyzed.
The system used nearly all its remaining power to repair her body, leaving her immobile for two months.
For Joe Crescent, a crippled child was a burden.
For Julia, it was humiliation.
But none of that touched Violet's world.
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By seven months old, Violet had perfected crawling.
From her parents' bedroom to the kitchen to random hallways, she was everywhere.
The entire De'ora household had turned into a baby search team, scouring rooms every few minutes just to keep track of their little explorer.
She was trouble—adorably, unreasonably, unstoppable trouble.
And yet, the De'ora couple couldn't be happier.
Their baby girl's every giggle, tumble, and mischief became the highlight of their day—and the internet's, too.
The world now knew Violet De'ora not just as a genius baby… but as the tiny tornado of the De'ora estate.
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You really couldn't blame little Violet.
Sure, everyone in the De'ora mansion was constantly panicking and running around trying to find her—but honestly, she just found the whole thing hilarious.
Still, despite all her baby antics, she reminded herself that she wasn't really a baby.
She was a 22-year-old woman in a pint-sized body.
"Get serious," she would mentally scold herself whenever she started giggling.
"You've got missions to complete, not diapers to fill."
But sometimes, seriousness had to wait—especially when her dad came home.
These days, the moment Kingsley De'ora stepped through the front door, Violet's tiny heart would leap.
She always tried to play it cool, pretending not to care.
But really, who was she kidding? Her chubby little cheeks couldn't hide excitement if they tried.
Even Vira teased her about it.
And Kingsley never failed to deliver.
No matter how busy he was, he always came home before seven, just like he'd promised.
The first thing he did was rush to his daughter, not even greeting his wife before kneeling beside the crib with an exaggerated, "Daddy's sorry for being late!"
Violet would cross her arms—well, try to—and turn away dramatically.
But one tickle, a silly face, and a shiny new rattle later, she'd be laughing so hard that her 22-year-old brain had to interrupt.
"Enough! You're supposed to be mature!"
And Vira would correct,"dear host it okay to feel,"each time.
Yet deep down, she couldn't help it.
For someone who lost her parents when she was seven, this warmth felt like a second chance at life—a quiet kind of redemption.
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And then came the third mission: Speak before the age of one.
"Easy," Violet had thought at first.
"I can talk.
I've been talking for years!"
Except… she couldn't.
Every time she tried to form a word, it felt like an invisible hand pressed against her throat, stealing her voice.
The harder she tried, the worse it got.
For nearly a month, she struggled, managing only soft gasps and squeaky noises that made her sound like a tiny hiccuping kitten.
But the De'ora family wasn't discouraged. They clapped, cheered, and repeated "Mama" and "Baba" like a mantra, encouraging her every day.
Still, Violet had already chosen her first word.
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A month and three weeks later, on a bright morning, she finally did it.
Her little lips parted, and in a voice softer than a whisper, she said, "Ira."
Vira froze.
Then burst into digital tears.
"Host! You said my name! I'm so touched!"
For an entire week, Vira cried happy code-tears, while the De'ora family stared blankly at each other.
"Did she just say… Ira?" Lily asked.
"Is that a person? A toy? A pet?" Kingsley wondered.
They searched the entire house for this mysterious "Ira" before finally giving up and deciding their daughter had just invented her own word.
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The moment Violet spoke, a soft ding! echoed in her mind.
Congratulations, Host!
You've completed all three beginner missions!
Reward: 200 points + access to the Lucky Spin!
"The what now?" Violet blinked.
'Lucky Spin,' Host! It's an invisible wheel of fortune.
You can win something special—a talent, an attribute, or even a magical item that'll make your mission easier!'
"Wait… invisible?"
'Yes, but totally real! Think of it as the universe's slot machine.
And whatever you win, you get to keep—even after leaving this world!'
Vira was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Fine, fine," Violet sighed.
"Let's get it over with."
"Let's see what this lucky spin of yours, is all about ".
'Lucky Spin—activate!'
A faint hum filled her head as an unseen wheel began to spin.
After a few tense seconds, it stopped on a blank spot.
Then a glowing eraser-like shape wiped it clean, revealing shimmering letters:
✨ Goddess Brain +5% ✨
Vira gasped loudly
'Oh my stars—Host, you got the Goddess Brain!' Vira squealed, twirling.
'Do you know what this means? Even one percent makes you a full-blown genius—and you just got five!'
She couldn't help but smile over the systems ridiculously twirl.
"So… how do I use it?" Violet asked, already imagining herself as the Einstein of babyhood.
'Easy! Just fall asleep, and it'll integrate naturally.
You'll wake up enlightened.
You're ridiculously lucky, Host!'
Violet smirked.
"For once, that's good to hear.
Alright then—time for a nap."
And nap she did.
For eleven straight hours.
Until Lily De'ora finally lost patience, marched into the nursery, and declared:
"That's enough genius sleep for today, young lady!".