The initial shock of rebirth gradually faded, replaced by the disorienting, yet strangely comforting, reality of infancy. Ethan, now named Elias, learned to interpret the blurry faces above him as Momma and Papa, their voices soft melodies of affection. His new parents, Lady Elara and Lord Alaric, radiated a warmth he'd never truly felt in his previous life.
There were no older brothers eclipsing him, no younger sisters demanding attention, and no gnawing sense of being an overlooked middle child. He was their first, their only, the absolute center of their universe, born into a grand, sprawling manor that bespoke wealth and influence.
The sharp sting of Deus's mockery, the fleeting glimpse of a return to his old life, still lingered in the deeper recesses of his infant mind.
He remembered the god's chilling laugh, the pronouncement that suicide would be impossible. He had raged inwardly, a tiny, helpless fury against such cosmic injustice. Even as a baby, the desire to prove that smug deity wrong burned fiercely within him. He would find a way to end this,and prove that reality was unfair. He tried, in his new, uncoordinated baby body, to test this. He'd instinctively hold his breath until his tiny lungs ached, but an automatic gasp always forced air back in. He'd try to roll off his soft, silk-draped crib, only to be caught by strong, gentle hands. It was true. He was trapped, utterly dependent, and utterly incapable of ending it all.
A cold, determined resolve settled over him. For now, he would observe. Babies couldn't do much, couldn't plan, couldn't execute. But he wouldn't forget. He would bide his time, grow stronger, and when his body was capable, he would find the means to defy Deus once more. This new world felt different. It was a world of polished wood, hushed servants, and sunlit courtyards. His new parents, while noble, were remarkably kind and attentive, their lives woven with genuine affection and a quiet dignity. Elias watched them, fascinated, as they went about their days – Lord Alaric managing the estate with a fair hand, Lady Elara overseeing the household and singing lullabies to him. He saw genuine appreciation in their eyes for the smallest things: a healthy harvest from their lands, a moment of quiet peace, his own gurgling laughter.
He grew, slowly shedding the remnants of Ethan's despair, though the underlying goal remained. The memories of his past life became less sharp, more like distant dreams. The bullying, the tarnished reputation, even Liv's hurtful words – they faded into a vague sense of unease rather than active torment. This new existence, free from those specific scars, and insulated by the comforts of nobility, allowed a different kind of being to emerge. He was cared for, truly cherished, and for the first time, he began to feel a profound, uncomplicated happiness.
He giggled, truly giggled, as Lady Elara tickled his tiny feet, the soft silks of her dress brushing his skin. He reached out, his small fingers grasping Lord Alaric's ring-adorned hand, and felt a surge of warmth he recognized as pure love. Deus's sinister plan, to force gratitude, was perhaps working, but not in the way the god might have anticipated. Elias wasn't grateful out of obligation, but he was aware that what he was experiencing was genuine affection was the very air he breathed, even amidst the trappings of a golden cage. Similar to what he experienced in his old world.
The thought made him cry.