Month after month passed following that dramatic naming ceremony, and my life turned into a strange obsessive routine.
I was no longer just lying there helplessly like a rag doll waiting to be fed. Instead, I developed a new habit that would probably make child psychologists worry if they knew: I became a spy in my own home.
This transformation started from mounting frustration. Every time there was a conversation around me, my ears would immediately sharpen like a radio antenna searching for signals. I learned to distinguish voice tones with surprising precision: when they were relaxed, when they were anxious, and most importantly, when they were discussing secret things about me.
My baby language skills developed at a speed that even surprised me. Maybe because a growing brain really is like a super sponge, or maybe because my desperation to understand this new world gave me extra motivation that normal babies don't have. Word by word began to have meaning. Sentences that used to be just empty sounds now started forming clear pictures of the world around me.
And the most annoying part of all that progress?
I started reacting reflexively every time someone called "Seraphina."
My head would turn automatically. My eyes would search for the source of the sound. There was even some kind of warm familiarity when hearing that name, as if my brain was starting to recognize it as my legitimate identity.
What's more, I even felt like my lifestyle was slowly changing to follow baby instincts... Like biting the toy balls around me.
And every time that happened, I immediately got angry at myself.
NO! I'm not Seraphina and I'm an adult! Besides, I'm still...
But what was my old name?
Why did my old name feel increasingly blurry in my memory like a painting being slowly erased?
The frightening reality began hitting me with full force. Every day, memories of my previous life felt like old photos fading under sunlight. My friends' faces, the names of streets where I lived, even hobbies I used to love with full passion—everything started blurring like dreams almost forgotten when morning comes.
What remained clear was only the moment of my death.
That truck.
The sound of hard impact.
Darkness.
And now, my new life as a baby girl with a name I didn't like.
My old identity was slowly eroding like coral rock pounded by waves, replaced by a new personality forced by circumstances. And the most terrifying part of it all? Part of me was starting to accept that change without resistance, like surrendering to a current too strong to fight.
...
In the middle of that prolonged identity crisis, the mystery about "Talents" and "Symptoms" kept haunting me like a song that couldn't get out of my head, spinning continuously and adding to my anxiety.
That secret conversation between my parents that I heard that night kept spinning in my mind. Every word they spoke I stored and analyzed repeatedly, trying to find clues about what they were actually afraid of.
This investigation process made me start noticing strange patterns in their daily routines that had previously escaped my attention. Every morning, before breakfast that was usually warm and full of jokes, Dad would check something he called a "sector monitor" with a serious face. I couldn't see the object clearly from my position in the high chair, but I heard regular electronic beeping and sometimes warning sounds that made Dad's face unhappy.
"Sector five patrol reports unusual activity," he mumbled one morning while chewing his food.
"Still within normal limits, but still needs close monitoring."
Mom nodded with an anxious expression.
"I hope it's not a bad sign. You know lately their activity has been increasing."
"Yeah, especially they're targeting those who have... certain potential," Dad answered in a softer tone, his eyes glancing at me briefly.
Certain potential.
They were talking about me again.
I wanted to scream, "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT?!"
But all that came out of my mouth was unclear baby babbling.
"Baba... gugu... aaa!"
They immediately smiled with sincere tenderness and found it cute. Dad even stroked my head with such gentle movements that I almost forgot my frustration. "Daddy's princess is so smart. Already babbling long like she's telling a story."
Damn. This unexpressed frustration made me want to kick something with full force, but my tiny legs could only kick empty air with movements that probably looked cute from the outside.
My life felt like watching a complicated mystery movie where I was the main character, but everyone else knew the plot twists and ending except me. They spoke in codes I didn't recognize, using foreign terms that sounded important, while I was trapped in a body that couldn't do anything but observe and speculate.
This feeling made me very uncomfortable, like an itch that couldn't be scratched or thirst that couldn't be quenched.
What made everything even more disturbing and mysterious, sometimes I saw Dad doing something that was clearly not normal by any world's standards.
One bright afternoon, when Mom was out and left us alone at home, I saw Dad standing on the back terrace with closed eyes and upright posture like he was meditating. Dad's hands were raised forward with controlled movements, and suddenly, without any warning, the air around him felt like it was vibrating, like there was static electricity creeping on my skin. I heard a low humming sound that got higher and higher, and then light appeared from nothingness.
Soft blue light radiating from his palms, glowing like dim but beautiful neon lights. Even from this distance, I could smell a strange sharp aroma, like the smell of air after a lightning storm. That light moved with amazing fluidity, accompanied by the gentle sound of energy hissing, forming complex geometric patterns in the air before finally stabilizing into a familiar shape, like a sword made of pure energy, sparkling with mesmerizing blue light.
I stared transfixed from my baby bed, my mouth wide open in total shock. My eyes didn't blink, afraid to miss the smallest detail of this impossible sight.
Was that... magic? Superpowers like in the comics I used to love? Or maybe advanced technology hidden inside his body like cyborgs in science fiction movies?
Dad slowly opened his eyes and let out a long breath that sounded like a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction, like someone who had just finished meditating or doing heavy physical exercise.
He stared at his hands with an expression I couldn't read... What was certain was that it was pride in his ability.
Then, as if sensing the presence of watching eyes, Dad turned toward where I was sleeping.
Even though I was sure he wouldn't suspect me, I reflexively pretended to sleep with quick movements, closing my eyes tightly while hoping I wouldn't get caught peeking.
When I dared to carefully open my eyes again a few minutes later, Dad was no longer on the terrace.
But the image of that beautiful blue light remained embedded in my memory with extraordinary clarity, becoming another puzzle piece that made my curiosity burn even brighter like fire given fuel.
Who wouldn't be curious about something related to magical powers?
Just like that, days passed full of curiosity.
...
Until one day, for the first time since I was born in this mystery-filled world, Mom decided to take me outside the house. This decision came suddenly.
I was shocked myself.
"Fresh air will be good for Seraphina," she told Dad while preparing a baby stroller that looked like a mini spaceship with a cute shape very suitable for babies.
Dad initially looked hesitant. "Isn't it too early? She's still very small. And you know the situation outside..."
"That's exactly why... I heard from many people that we should start introducing babies to the outside world gradually." Mom sounded insistent with logical arguments.
"Also... She can't be locked up at home continuously like a prisoner. This is for her development too."
I silently nodded, completely agreeing with Mom's opinion with my entire existence.
I was sick of staring at my bedroom ceiling which was the same every day. My curiosity about the outside world had reached a saturation point that was frustrating. I wanted to know what the environment where I would grow up was like, what the people around here were like in their daily lives, and most importantly. whether this world was really different from what I used to know, or just my excessive imagination.
After a brief debate, Dad finally gave up.
"Alright, but don't go too far. And don't stay outside too long."
I was carefully placed in the baby stroller which turned out to be far more comfortable than I imagined. There were soft cushions wrapping my body, gentle safety straps, and even some kind of transparent cover that could protect me from wind without blocking vision or air circulation.
When the front door opened and the stroller started moving with surprising smoothness, I felt a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time, pure freedom. Its wheels were almost silent on the walkway made of strange materials, only producing very smooth friction sounds. Fresh air touched my face with refreshing gentleness, bringing aromas different from the familiar house air. There was the smell of fresh grass, fragrant flowers, and something I couldn't identify—like the smell of clean metal and subtle energy that might come from glowing panels on the walls of houses around us. From afar, I could hear a low, constant humming, maybe the sound of traffic or invisible city technology.
The first sight I saw after leaving the house made me stunned.
The architecture of houses around here looked like a blend of classic and futuristic styles. Those buildings had familiar basic shapes (walls, windows, doors) but there were details that clearly didn't come from my era.
Glowing panels adorned the walls. Windows that seemed to change transparency. Gardens with plants growing in geometric patterns too perfect to be natural.
This felt like a green city where technology and nature stood side by side... No wonder the air was fresh.
But the most surprising thing wasn't the architecture or technology.
The most surprising thing was the people.
The first neighbor we passed was a middle-aged woman watering plants in her front yard with skilled and attentive movements. Golden blonde hair that sparkled covered her shoulders, flowing in a way that looked too shiny and perfect for normal human hair.
"Good morning, Mrs. Elveira!" she greeted Mom friendly, raising her hand in a waving gesture.
"Good morning too, Mrs. Smith!" Mom replied with a warm smile.
I stared at Mrs. Smith with confused eyes. Her blonde hair really sparkled, literally. Like there were golden fibers woven into every strand of her hair, reflecting sunlight in ways that couldn't happen naturally.
"Beautiful weather for a walk," said Mrs. Smith while putting down her watering can and bending slightly toward the stroller.
"And your little baby is really cute like her mother."
Mom chuckled softly, then tilted the stroller slightly so she could peek. "Yes, this is her first time really walking around the neighborhood."
Mrs. Smith's eyes softened. "She has eyes like yours, Mrs. Elveira. Oh, but that little nose... clearly her father's."
I could only blink, trying to accept the bitter reality that in this baby body, I didn't even have a chance to defend myself from strange comments. Hearing strangers judge my nose like they were judging art felt quite annoying.
"Thank you," Mom answered politely while adjusting her grip on the stroller handle.
"We don't want to keep you from your gardening."
Mrs. Smith waved gracefully, sunlight reflecting off her golden hair, sparkling like liquid thread.
"Enjoy your walk. Don't hesitate to drop by."
Mom nodded, then with a gentle push the stroller resumed its journey, its small wheels creaking softly on the gravel as we left the sparkling-haired woman behind.
We walked past Mrs. Smith's yard until slowly that sparkling figure disappeared from view. I glanced back—and still found that golden hair glimmer mocking me from afar. This wasn't just blonde hair, my brain screamed. That was gold. Really gold. How was that possible? Was genetics in this world really crazy?
"Mrs. Smith is as friendly as usual," Mom mumbled softly, more to herself while smiling.
I sighed inwardly, if babies could sigh.
Friendly, yeah... but still, her hair was like it was sponsored by the sun itself. My mind was still trying to process that impossibility when the stroller kept moving forward, and the next walkway was already leading us toward other houses in this neighborhood.
We passed a young man fixing something that looked like a hover engine in his garage. The sound of high-frequency hissing and metallic tinkling occasionally came from the tool he was holding. His hair was bright emerald green, cut neatly in a casual yet stylish style.
Green?
Was that thing green?
I mean his hair was green?
I blinked several times, thinking maybe my eyes were the problem. But no, his hair was really green like the freshest, most lush leaves. And he didn't look like someone who deliberately colored his hair. The color looked natural, like that was indeed his natural hair color since birth.
The farther we walked, the more "miracles" I saw.
A teenage girl with fiery red hair was playing with what looked like holograms in her hands, three-dimensional images that spun and changed shape in the air while producing gentle electronic music.
A pair of twins with dark blue hair... almost the same as Mom's and mine, except Mom's hair looked brighter, not dull, were playing tag.
An old man with sparkling white hair was reading a newspaper that... its material looked like it wasn't ordinary paper.
Somehow I felt like Alice who fell down the rabbit hole and found herself in Wonderland full of wonders and things that didn't make sense. Or more precisely, I felt like someone suddenly thrown into an anime or video game world where all characters had fantastic hair colors.
"A walking anime convention," I mumbled inwardly with slight amusement, using a term I used to use to describe anime characters with weird, unrealistic hair colors.
But here, everyone really was living colorful chickens... Including myself with the light blue hair I inherited from Mom.
And what was most disturbing—they all looked normal. No one stared at each other in wonder. No one commented about strange hair colors. Everything seemed natural.
So Mom and I with light blue hair weren't the weirdest or most conspicuous in this neighborhood.
But why did Dad have normal black hair that looked ordinary?
Why was he the different one from people around here?
Was there a special reason behind that difference?
Question after question kept popping up in my head as we continued our leisurely journey around the residential complex.
I began to realize that this world didn't just have more advanced technology—but also had different biological rules.
Or maybe there was something else more complex and mysterious that made people here different from normal humans I knew in my previous life.
The "Talent" my parents talked about... did that have something to do with the strange hair colors and supernatural abilities I saw? Did everyone in this world have unique special abilities? Was that why Dad could emit blue light from his hands like I saw before?
The stroller stopped at a small beautiful park in the middle of the complex. Mom carefully lifted me out and sat me on a soft blanket spread under a tree that, again, didn't look like an ordinary tree I knew. Its leaves sparkled with a natural blue-green color, and there was some kind of subtle energy I could feel radiating from its trunk, like gentle warmth that was soothing.
"Do you like it here, sweetie?" Mom asked while stroking my cheek with very gentle movements, her eyes looking at me with full love.
I let out a small mumbling sound that could be interpreted as agreement and satisfaction.
"Aaa... ba ba... uuh..."
Mom smiled widely.
"You're happy, aren't you? Bringing you out seems right. Fresh air and new scenery are indeed good for your development and health."
While I enjoyed the warmth of sunlight and gentle breeze, my mind kept working to analyze all the new information I had just gotten.
This world was clearly not Earth. Its people had abnormal characteristics.
Technology here was far more advanced. And I, somehow, was reborn in the middle of all this strangeness.
But the biggest question remained unanswered: why me? Why was I chosen to reincarnate in a place like this?
And what "Talent" would I have later?
Would my hair color change?
Would I be able to emit light like Dad?
Or would I have different abilities?
Or maybe I'd become the only normal person in a world full of wonders?
Fear and excitement mixed in my chest.
On one hand, the prospect of having superpowers sounded cool.
On the other hand, my parents looked so worried about the possibility of me inheriting Dad's "Talent."
There must be a serious reason behind their concerns.
But for now, I decided to enjoy this moment of peace.
Feeling the warmth of sunlight, hearing the sound of children playing in the distance, and feeling Mom's love radiating from every gentle touch.
Speaking of which, it seemed my first birthday wouldn't be long... my first birthday in this world.
One full year as a baby girl. One full year adapting to a new identity, new family, and a completely different world.
I didn't know what would happen after this.
What was clear, my life as a baby in this world was far more complex than I had ever imagined.
And though sometimes I still missed my old life, a small part of me was starting to get curious about what I would bring as Seraphina in the future.
Maybe, just maybe, there was a certain purpose why I was given this second chance. Maybe there was something I had to do in this world, something I couldn't do in my previous life.
Or maybe I was just overthinking for a nearly one-year-old baby who should only be thinking about eating and sleeping.
With a small satisfied mumble, I closed my eyes and let the afternoon warmth carry me to a peaceful afternoon nap.
While hoping time would pass faster.