The highest tower of Saint Mary's Convent in the city of Wellersburg burned in flames.
Floating in the air, hidden by the darkness of a cloudy night, a shadowy figure, wrapped in an ethereal cloak of dark energy, enjoyed the spectacle of lights and shadows produced by the fire.
The source of that malevolent being's delight wasn't simply the macabre beauty of that pyrotechnic display. The hooded figure was filled with an intoxicating sense of duty fulfilled.
So many months, so many different places, so many failed attempts, but finally, he had completed the mission entrusted to him by his beloved master.
The last heir of the first emperor was dead. He burned amidst the flames in his mother's arms.
Princess Selena's death hadn't been part of the master's plan, but she had made the mistake of giving birth to an heir of the great betrayal; that was a sacrilege that could not be forgiven.
The master would never allow a filthy traitor the slightest chance of becoming the next emperor.
The death of a mere princess was a small price to pay.
The sinister figure couldn't contain his eagerness; he wanted to leave immediately to receive his master's praise.
But then a slight fluctuation in the fabric of reality sent chills through the sinister figure's body. That was the sign of interference from a divine being. Would some damned god dare interfere with the master's plans?
The princess continued to burn, and in her arms was the disgusting child who bore the mark of betrayal. His mission was already accomplished; not even a damned god could interfere now.
The figure tried to convince himself that nothing was wrong, but his trembling hand betrayed his uncertainty. The master wouldn't forgive another failure. That filthy child shouldn't even have been conceived if the figure had completed his mission months ago.
Only the father would have died. They wouldn't have needed to draw so much attention by killing the mother.
If the figure told the master about that fluctuation, about the probable interference of a god, he wouldn't consider the mission accomplished, and there would be no praise, only insults.
"The master doesn't need to know, right?" the sinister figure asked himself. No, he would never tell the master; he was too eager to receive the long-awaited praise.
***
In another reality, in another parallel universe, one of the infinite multiverses, another building burned in flames.
Amidst the rubble of the explosion that had been the source of that fire, Edward struggled to breathe.
The heat of the flames was intense, but he knew he didn't need to worry about them; the toxic gases released by those flames would kill him before the fire itself began to melt his skin.
Just when everything in his life was starting to improve, this tragedy happened. Years of suffering in childhood, with a broken family and the constant threat of poverty.
All that suffering, the harsh military training he had never wanted but endured because it was his only chance to study engineering, as he had always dreamed.
Years of humiliation at military school and later at the cadet academy. Forced to deal with the racist elitism of his classmates and army officers. Constantly punished simply for challenging the twisted logic of the prejudiced minds around him.
How could a poor kid like him be the best at everything?
But just as his dream was finally coming true, just as he had secured that coveted position as an engineering officer in the mechanized cavalry, this happened.
That sound earlier had clearly been the shrill whistle of a hypersonic missile. He would never mistake that sound, not after all those hours of study, listening to recordings of different types of missiles.
That subject, which had always seemed useless to him, was still fresh in his memory. He could even identify the origin of the munition that had caused that explosion just by the sound it made.
He knew exactly who was attacking them.
Edward had always known this was a possibility. The facility where he had started working was one of the most heavily guarded areas in the country, but with all the geopolitical tensions brewing, deep down, he knew something like this could happen.
The more powerful nations wouldn't be happy seeing a small, insignificant country like his developing advanced military technology, the kind he had just begun to help create.
But he had never imagined his luck would be this bad. That an attack would happen so soon after he had finally become an engineer, as he had always dreamed.
Who would have thought his country's defenses would be so easily overcome, that someone could launch such a devastating attack on such a heavily protected facility?
There was nothing left to do. Regret wouldn't change anything.
The toxic gases had already invaded his lungs, and he could no longer breathe. Soon his body would be without oxygen, and his organs would begin to fail one after another.
He simply closed his eyes and waited patiently for the inevitable.
For a moment, everything was darkness. He no longer felt the pain or the heat from the flames warming his face.
He could have sworn he heard a voice just before that strange sensation of his soul being torn from his body. Edward didn't know it, but his soul was being captured.
Someone was interfering with the wheel of reincarnation to ensure he would be reborn in a specific place, to live a specific life, for a specific purpose.
Only a powerful god could do such a thing. But it all happened without Edward being aware of what was happening.
It must have been a hallucination, probably from the toxic gases he had inhaled, right? His mind couldn't make sense of the strange phenomenon taking place.
His thoughts still gave him some sense of time, but there was no way to know what happened in the intervals between them.
He felt nothing. But somehow, he still existed. That state, as if he were in some kind of limbo, could have lasted a second or an eternity.
Then suddenly, the heat of the flames returned.
But now it wasn't the unbearable heat from before. This warmth was gentle, pleasant, like the flames of a fireplace on a winter night.
He still had no control over his body, but he could feel air filling his lungs once more. Not that air saturated with toxic gases. This was the cold, damp air of a cloudy night.
He could still detect a faint scent of smoke, but not the strong chemical odor from the uncontrolled reactions that had started right after the explosion. No, what was burning now was wood, but there had been no wood in the facility where he worked.
The entire building had been concrete; even the furniture was metal. The fire had only spread because of the various chemical components stored there.
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw in the distance a medieval building, like the castles of Europe during the Renaissance, its tallest tower in flames.
Floating slightly above the tower was a hooded figure, its long cloak seeming to be made of darkness.
Edward couldn't actually see the figure clearly. He was too far away, and the night was too dark. But his instincts screamed at him, denouncing the malicious presence of that hateful being filled with a perverse intent to kill him.
He didn't know how or why, but he knew that if that being noticed his presence, he would die an extremely unpleasant death.
But how could he die again if he was already dead? Whatever the answer to that question, it wouldn't make sense to him.
"Why did the princess have to die with the baby?" a gigantic figure asked beside Edward. But was it really a giant? It looked more like a woman.
She spoke in a strange language, one Edward knew he had never heard before, but for some reason, some kind of strange power automatically translated it in his mind, making it understandable to him.
"Selena knew they would suspect if she just abandoned the child to die and fled," another giant replied. This time, it was a middle-aged man, a knight? Were they giants, or had he shrunk?
The answer to Edward's question came when the hand of a baby, probably a newborn, appeared in his field of vision.
But was that his hand? How could that be his hand?
A sharp jolt from the carriage carrying them away from the burning tower and the shadowy figure made the woman turn her attention to Edward.
"You're awake?" the woman said to Edward. "Mr. Thomas, I told you to slow down. The poor thing isn't even three days old yet."
"And I told you we don't have time," the knight replied. "Hold the boy in your arms; it'll be more comfortable than in that seat."
The woman did as instructed and picked up Edward in her arms. Yes, that confirmed it, for some reason, in this bizarre dream, he had become a baby.
"He's already opened his eyes," the woman said in amazement as she saw Edward's wide-open eyes staring at her.
"Well, he is the son of Sir Edward and our dear Selena, after all. He couldn't be anything less than a prodigy."
Was the knight really impressed by the simple fact that Edward had opened his eyes?
"I'm always surprised by how informal you were with the princess," the woman replied.
The knight shrugged, clearly tired of hearing that same lecture.
"What happens now? You and the princess kept me in the dark. I think I deserve to know now," the woman asked.
"You know we didn't mean any harm."
The knight seemed reluctant to reveal their next steps, but the woman's stern look made it clear she wouldn't accept silence as an answer.
Edward was also eager for an answer, so he was rooting for the woman.
"Fine, fine... we're taking the boy to the Duke of Demetria."
The woman wasn't satisfied with just that piece of information, so the knight was forced to continue explaining.
"His young wife lost another baby. No one knows yet, not even his other wives and children. So they'll adopt our little Edward as their own."
In this baby's body, his name was also Edward? This had to be a dream.
"But do they know the boy is…" the woman began, but the knight cut her off before she could finish.
"The duke knows, but only him. Don't worry; the boy will be safe. The duke was loyal to Sir Edward, and he'll remain so, even now that he's dead," the knight replied.
For some reason, Edward could sense a hint of uncertainty in the knight's statement. Was that just wishful thinking? Was this duke really that loyal to Edward's new father?
"Will we have to leave after we deliver the baby?" the woman asked.
At that moment, she hugged Edward tighter, a clear gesture of affection. She didn't like the idea of being separated from him.
When the knight nodded in confirmation, Edward could see deep sadness on the woman's face.
The rest of the journey passed in silence. The two adults were grieving. Princess Selena, Edward's mother, had been someone significant to them.
As the hours passed and Edward took in more details of this strange world, he became less certain that this was just a dream.
The two adults didn't seem to notice, but for some reason, Edward could sense every presence in the dark forest they traveled through that night.
None of them dared approach the carriage. A protective amulet, or at least that's how Edward interpreted the artifact he could feel but not see, kept all those beings at bay.
What were those creatures? Dragons? Giant insects? Demons? Edward had no way of knowing, but his mind kept trying to make sense of it all.
Being trapped in this baby's body, aware of all these threats, was terrifying. He had no control over his body, though at times he desperately tried to do something, to regain control.
He kicked, screamed, and thrashed, but nothing happened. To the two adults, it just seemed like the normal behavior of a fussy baby.
"He must be hungry," the woman thought, shoving a bottle into Edward's mouth. He wanted to protest, but his infant body accepted the bottle as if it were a gift from the gods.
And so it went all night.
When the sun finally began to rise on the horizon, it revealed a breathtaking dawn, a landscape both dazzling and terrifying.
Edward was now certain this wasn't a dream.
He had died, so this could only be a new life, a reincarnation. But why did he still have his memories? Was this some error in the process of transferring his soul to this new body? Or was it divine interference?
And that voice, had there been a voice? He had heard something before dying.
Edward had no way of knowing. But one thing was certain: if he had been given a new chance to live, he would make the most of it.
In this new life, he would be the son of a duke, after all.
He still had all his memories, all his knowledge. This was the perfect opportunity to fulfill all his dreams, to live the good life he had never had the chance to live before.
But serious risks were threatening this new life. His new mother had sacrificed herself to save him. The sinister aura of that shadowy figure made it clear that, for some reason, he was still in grave danger.
But facing adversity was something he was used to. Nothing would stand in the way of his dreams.
He would reinvent engineering itself in this new world if he had to.