“Caffeine is my destiny, Sarah,” he deadpanned. “Also, don’t forget the granola bars. I’d be lost without them.” Sarah snorted. “Okay, Dr. Space Explorer. Just don’t forget that some of us live on Earth. You know, with things like mealtimes and sunlight.” Nathaniel gestured dramatically to the screens surrounding him, each alive with star maps and equations. “Trust me, Sarah, I’m painfully aware of Earth. It’s that pesky place keeping me from stardom, literally.” Sarah couldn’t suppress a grin. “Someday soon, huh? Let me guess, we’ll all be thanking you for cosmic particle-powered coffee machines.”

“Energy sources, Sarah. Intergalactic travel. Possibly the occasional wormhole shortcut. But sure, let’s dumb it down to coffee. Thanks for the faith.” “Big talk for a guy who hasn’t eaten dinner,” she countered, tossing him a granola bar from her pocket. “Here. Save humanity after you have carbs.” Nathaniel caught it with exaggerated flair. “Wow, such generosity. I’ll cherish this granola bar forever. Maybe name a particle after you.” “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t name the defective ones after me.” Sarah’s smirk widened. “So, you planning to wrap this up before midnight, or should I let the janitor know to keep you company?”

“Actually, I was hoping to befriend the janitor. Maybe get him on board with my ‘coffee machine’ idea,” Nathaniel shot back, already peeling open the granola bar. “But if you’re offering to keep me company, I’d gladly share my breakthroughs.” “Hard pass,” Sarah quipped. “If you discover alien life, though, give me a call.”

“Noted. I’ll make sure the aliens know you’re their biggest fan.” Sarah shook her head, laughing as she turned to leave. “Just… try not to implode the lab, okay? We’re already over budget.” “Don’t worry, Sarah,” Nathaniel called after her, his smirk returning. “If I do implode the lab, I promise you’ll be the first to know. Front row seats.” As she left, Nathaniel’s focus returned to his experiment. The machine hummed with intensity, lights flickering in a rhythmic sequence as he worked. His heart quickened as the readings edged closer to his target. “Come on… show me what you’re made of,” he muttered, his excitement mounting. Then the ominous beeping began.

“Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep.”

Nathaniel frowned, his fingers hovering over the controls. “Oh, great. That’s never a good sound.” The beeping escalated into a blaring alarm. “Nope, nope, definitely not good,” he muttered, frantically recalibrating. “Okay, let’s not make tonight ‘the night I blew up the lab.’” But before he could finish, a burst of light consumed the room, bathing everything in a blinding, searing whiteness. “Oh, fantastic,” he managed to say before the weightlessness overtook him. “I’ve officially out-scienced myself.” And then, nothing.

The first thing Nathaniel registered after the blinding light was the softness beneath him. Great, he thought, blinking as his vision came back in a haze. Either I’ve ascended to the world’s most luxurious afterlife, or someone’s replaced my lab chair with a cloud. His attempt at humor was short-lived as his surroundings started to take shape. Two faces hovered above him, their features striking and unfamiliar. The woman’s violet eyes shimmered like twilight over a calm sea, while her cascading hair gleamed faintly. Beside her, a man with dark hair streaked with silver observed him intently, his golden eyes practically glowing.

Nathaniel squinted. “Okay, Nathan, quick checklist. Gorgeous strangers? Check. Bizarre glowing eyes? Check. Uncomfortable sense of being watched? Double check. Giants? Check. Out of this world beauty? Triple check. Congratulations, buddy, you’ve been abducted by aliens.”

He tried to sit up, but his body betrayed him, limbs sluggish and uncoordinated. He lifted his hand or tried to and was greeted by the sight of chubby, tiny fingers. “What in the?” His mind reeled. He tried to speak, but what emerged was a soft coo. A coo. “Oh, fantastic. Not only am I hallucinating I also can’t even move or speak freely. This is karma, isn’t it? For eating Sarah’s granola stash?!”

Then it hit him. His breathing slowed as realization dawned. “Wait… I’m a baby. A baby?!”

Panic bubbled in his chest. “Okay, okay. Calm down. Think, Nathan. You were in the lab. There was an experiment. Something went wrong. Blinding light. And now… this. Right. Totally logical.” His gaze darted back to the strange, stunning faces above him. “Except for the part where I have no idea where I am, who these people are, or why I’m being cradled like a prize-winning melon. Hold up. Did that machine just yeet me into another dimension?"

The woman spoke, her voice soft and melodic. “Look at him, Arren,” she murmured. “Our firstborn… he’s beautiful.” Nathaniel’s internal monologue went into overdrive. “Firstborn? Hold on, lady. Let’s not jump to conclusions. I don’t recall signing up for this gig.” Arren’s gaze softened as he brushed a hand over Nathaniel’s head. “He is, Lysandra. Just as radiant as the dawn.”

“Radiant? Oh, stop, you’re going to make me blush. Wait… do babies even blush? Ugh, focus, Nathan!”

The woman, Lysandra, leaned in closer. “Caelum,” she whispered, her voice like a gentle breeze through ancient trees. “Our beloved son, Caelum. Named after the heavens, for you are a blessing for us from the heavens.”

“Caelum? You’re calling me Caelum now? Really? I mean, sure, it’s got a nice ring to it, but how about asking the baby first? No? Cool, love this communication dynamic already.”

But then her expression shifted, her joy clouded by apprehension as her gaze swept over him. “Arren…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He doesn’t have the mark!”

Nathaniel blinked. “Mark? What mark? Is this some kind of fantasy-world birth certificate? Because I’m telling you right now, I am not dealing with interdimensional bureaucracy.”

Arren’s brows furrowed as he turned Nathaniel’s wrist, then his forehead, a frown deepening. The two exchanged a look filled with quiet sorrow, and Nathan felt an uncharacteristic pang in his chest. “Are you certain?” Arren’s voice was low, strained. “There’s… there’s no sign of it,” Lysandra choked, her voice breaking. “No sign of the stars’ blessing.”

“Stars’ blessing? Oh, great. Fantasy world, 101: If you don’t have a magical birthmark, you’re automatically screwed. Guess that makes me—what—a muggle?!”

Arren pulled Lysandra into an embrace, his voice steadying. “Lysandra, listen to me. He is our son, mark or no mark. We will protect him.” “But Arren,” she whispered, her eyes glistening, “without a celestial gift, he will be scorned. And as a prince, how… how will he ever gain respect in a world where power is everything?”

“Hold on. Back up. Prince? Did she just say prince? Oh, this just keeps getting better. I don’t even have opposable thumbs yet, and I’m already involved in royal drama!”

Arren’s jaw tightened. “Then we must ensure he’s not alone. We’ll shield him, Lysandra. Our son is strong. He’ll be strong. Mark or no mark.” Lysandra nodded, brushing her fingers over Nathaniel’s cheek. “Then we’ll teach him everything we can. He will be wise, even without celestial gifts.”

Nathaniel let out an inward sigh, his mind still reeling. “Fantastic. I’m a baby. In a royal family. Without magical powers. In a world where powers apparently equal survival. No pressure, Nathan. Nope, none at all.”

And yet, as their words echoed in his mind, he felt an odd sense of understanding. He didn’t know why, but part of him believed them. Maybe, just maybe, he could figure out this new life—and, with any luck, survive it. “Fine. Let’s do this. But first, someone better get me a nap. I’ve had a day,” he thought as he drifted back to sleep.

Hello! Celestia Fanatika here, a first time author. Don't mind the pen name since i can't think of other names. Since I'm a novice I would appreciate criticism and tips. Is my formatting okay? How about my narration, is it okay? Is it confusing? How about the story, is it interesting? Oh and note, the italicized words are Caelum’s monologue. Share your thoughts in the comments.