Chapter 3 – The Infant Illusion

  The world was too big.

  That was Raven Sureksha’s first conclusion in this new life. From the moment he opened his eyes again, everything around him towered like monuments—the crib rails were fortress walls, and a spoon was heavier than a broadsword.

  He hated it.

  "How the mighty have fallen..."

  "From decoding encrypted global networks to… sucking my own fingers."

  “Gah… buh…” Raven babbled softly, forcing a grin as the maid leaned closer.

  “Aww~ Look at you, little Lord Raven! Who’s a clever baby, hmm?” cooed the head maid, Marika, her plump cheeks jiggling as she smiled down at him.

  He responded with a coo and a well-timed leg kick. Internally, he gagged.

  "Yes, yes. Praise the noble turd-machine. My dignity died with my adult bladder."

  Despite his complaints, he knew the truth: this was necessary.

  He was in enemy territory—the enemy being the world. He had no allies, no leverage, and no strength… yet. Survival, for now, meant deception.

  So, he cried on cue.

  He gurgled when expected.

  And when the time was right, he even managed a tearful “Mama.”

  Lady Seraphina, his mother in this new life, cried harder than he did.

  It began the first night after his birth.

  Wrapped in soft blankets and gently laid against the bosom of Lady Seraphina, Raven's survival instincts screamed.

  "No… no no no no no. Don’t you dare, woman!"

  He looked up in horror as his new mother, radiant with maternal affection, softly smiled and held him closer.

  “Oh my little Raven… It’s time to feed, sweetheart.”

  "I’d rather starve!"

  As her warmth surrounded him and he was gently guided toward her, Raven flailed. His little limbs kicked like a frantic crab tossed into a boiling pot. His eyes widened in pure existential dread.

  And then, he did the only thing he could think of:

  He wailed. Loud. Genuinely terrified.

  “WAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

  Lady Seraphina froze. The wet nurse attending nearby looked confused.

  “Lady Seraphina… perhaps he’s simply not ready?”

  The Duchess held her baby close, confused and worried.

  “Oh darling… you don’t want to feed?”

  "Not like that, dammit! I was thirty-seven last week!"

  He continued crying, flailing until his tiny fingers smacked her necklace.

  Lady Seraphina’s eyes softened with understanding—though not the right kind.

  “…So dignified already,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “Very well. Bring the bottle.”

  And just like that, salvation arrived in the form of cow milk in a silver bottle. The first sip still tasted weird, but Raven drank like it was nectar from heaven.

  "Thank you, bovine gods. You have spared me this day."

  At first, he tried to control his bodily functions. He really did.

  But within two days, he realized…

  “I’ve peed myself again.”

  His little fists trembled as a servant changed him for the third time that day.

  "All my degrees. All my disciplines. And not one of them taught me how to escape this humiliation."

  A boy walked in, tall and stern with a long coat bearing the Sureksha crest.

  "That must be him… Magnus Sureksha. The heir."

  The sixteen-year-old stopped beside the crib, hands clasped behind his back. He said nothing for a moment.

  “Hm. So this is the new one,” he muttered. “You don’t look particularly impressive.”

  "Charmed, really." Raven blinked at him, then yawned dramatically.

  Magnus narrowed his eyes. “He’s mocking me.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” said a bright voice from behind. “He’s just a baby, Magnus.”

  In stepped Lady Evelina, hair tied into elegant twin braids, her eyes dancing with curiosity and amusement. She leaned over the crib, resting her chin on the edge.

  “Hi there, little brother~!” she cooed. “You’re so tiny! Look at those chubby cheeks!”

  She reached out and gently poked one.

  Raven gurgled on purpose, waving his arm clumsily. Evelina gasped.

  “He waved! Did you see that?!”

  Magnus crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Babies wave. That’s hardly an achievement.”

  “I like him,” Evelina said with a giggle. “He’s going to be my favorite.”

  “Well, that’s good. Better to be adored than ignored.”

  Later that evening, as twilight painted the nursery in golden light, Raven lay quietly in his crib, thoughts swirling.

  “So… that’s the first son. Cold. Reserved. Looks like a swordsman.”

  “And the daughter... bubbly. Overly affectionate. But she’s watching closely. She's not as na?ve as she acts.”

  The family dynamic was becoming clear.

  "Father is a man of presence. Mother... gentle but proud. The heir’s eyes are sharp. The daughter hides her thorns in lace."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "And me? I'm the ghost in the machine. The shadow behind the tapestry."

  He let out a dramatic baby sigh and rolled to his side. A servant adjusted his blanket.

  "No matter the body… I’ll carve my path. One day, this entire empire will follow the rhythm of my heartbeat, unaware of the puppeteer in the crib."

  But for now, he had one immediate concern.

  His stomach growled. Loudly.

  “Waaaahh!!”

  He screamed—part acting, part genuine. The maid scrambled into action with the silver bottle.

  "Fine. I'll drink your cow juice… for now."

  And thus began the babyhood of Raven Sureksha, third son of Duke Alistair.

  The empire had no idea what had just been born.

  After Few Days -

  It was a quiet afternoon in the nursery.

  Sunlight streamed through the tall, glass-paned windows, casting shifting patterns on the marble floor. The servants moved with practiced grace, humming lullabies and fluffing silken pillows.

  In the midst of it all, Raven Sureksha, baby extraordinaire and secret reincarnated genius, was planning an escape.

  "Just a little lean... and push... there—!"

  His tiny hands gripped the edge of his crib. His pudgy body leaned forward as far as it could. He was aiming for the soft pillow that had been dropped nearby. A calculated risk.

  "I survived boardroom politics and backdoor assassinations. I will not be imprisoned by bars of polished wood!"

  Then came gravity.

  Thud.

  “GYAaaaaaaaahhhh!!”

  Raven hit the floor with a soft plop, but a dull pain shot through his tiny elbow. The maids shrieked. The head nurse dropped her tea. Lady Seraphina stormed into the nursery, eyes wide with panic.

  “RAVEN!! My baby!!”

  "...Ow. Okay. That one’s on me."

  He tried to put on his best innocent baby face, but the tears were already flowing—real this time.

  “It’s swollen!” cried the nurse.

  “He’s bleeding from his arm!” someone gasped.

  Then, a new voice entered the fray.

  “Make way,” said a calm, melodic voice. “I shall handle this.”

  A woman in emerald robes stepped forward—a healer. Her hair was silvery-white, braided with shimmering green beads. A pendant shaped like a leaf glowed on her chest. She kneeled beside Raven, touching the edge of his arm.

  “It’s a minor fracture. I’ll mend it.”

  Raven, through blurry eyes, watched as the woman pressed two fingers gently to his skin.

  And then… it happened.

  Light.

  Soft, golden threads danced from her hands, weaving through the air like silk ribbons. They glowed brighter with each passing second, until the wound began to close, the swelling fading as if time itself reversed.

  "...What... the hell?"

  "This isn't science. This isn't a machine. This is..."

  "Magic."

  His breath caught in his tiny lungs. His eyes widened like saucers. He didn’t even realize the pain was gone.

  "In my past life, we had drones and AI—but we couldn’t do this."

  "We couldn’t fix a broken bone with golden threads."

  "This... this is beautiful."

  When the light finally dimmed and his arm returned to normal, Raven let out a soft, awed “Buh…”

  The healer smiled. “There we go. Good as new.”

  And then—unexpectedly—Raven reached up.

  Tiny fingers stretched toward the retreating light, grasping at the last wisps like a kitten pawing at string.

  Everyone around him gasped in surprise.

  “Amazing,” whispered Evelina from the doorway, eyes sparkling. “He’s mesmerized!”

  Even Magnus, leaning casually against the frame, let out a soft hum of interest.

  "You’re damn right I’m mesmerized!"

  "That was a real-life miracle. No circuits. No chemicals. Just… raw energy."

  He made a noise—half gurgle, half determined squeak—and reached again.

  The healer chuckled. “He seems fascinated by magic.”

  Lady Seraphina’s worried frown melted into a smile. “Looks like he has a gift for it already.”

  "Gift or not… I will learn this art. No matter what it takes."

  "If this world has magic, then I have a new path to master."

  "Medicine, engineering… now healing magic joins my list."

  But before his mind could delve into theoretical energy systems and arcane formulas, the nurse swept him up into her arms.

  “No more escaping the crib, young Lord!” she scolded, tapping his nose lightly.

  Raven responded with a carefully rehearsed pout and a dramatic sigh.

  "So close to unlocking the secrets of the arcane. Foiled by pillows and good intentions."

  As he was gently rocked to sleep, the vision of golden threads danced behind his eyelids.

  And for the first time in this new world…

  He dreamed of magic.

  Seven Month Later,

  Seven months. Seven months of humiliating, endless captivity. Seven months since Raven Sureksha, once a genius, a cunning manipulator, now a prisoner in the body of a drooling infant. Every day, without fail, he tried to escape—only to be thwarted by the relentless forces of fate, or rather, his ever-watchful family.

  Today was no different.

  As his tiny hands and legs flopped uselessly, Raven stared up at the ceiling of his nursery, the dim light of morning filtering through the curtains. Alright, Raven. Time to do this again. You’ve planned, you’ve strategized, and—oh wait, you can barely move your legs. Brilliant. Fantastic. I’m a genius in a baby’s body. A real marvel of nature.

  His body felt like a prison, the cradle bars keeping him locked in place like some kind of animal exhibit. At least they didn’t put up a “Do Not Feed the Baby” sign, but I can’t exactly escape on a diet of formula and mashed carrots, can I?

  Determined to break free, Raven gave his best effort, kicking his legs with all the force a seven-month-old could muster. His little feet flailed like windmills, and his arms moved as if they had a mind of their own—one that was far too eager to flail in any direction except the one he intended.

  Just as he was about to give it another try, the door creaked open, and the maid entered, as always, with her annoying cooing tone.

  “Oh, little lord, you’re such a busy baby today!” she said with that sickeningly sweet voice. “Trying to escape again?”

  Trying to escape again? Raven bit back the urge to scream. No, I’m just having a little fun here, trying to pull my limbs off. Nothing big. No big deal at all. Just an average Tuesday in this nightmare.

  As she reached for him, Raven’s mind went into overdrive. I’ll remember this. Every single moment of this humiliation. Every cradle bar that held me prisoner. Every time you looked at me like I’m just a helpless bundle of joy.

  “I will remember every time you ‘ambushed’ me with a kiss,” Raven continued in his head. “Every time you fawned over me like I was the second coming of some divine being... all of this. And one day, oh yes, one day, you will pay. Because vengeance, my dear maid... vengeance is a dish best served with baby powder.”

  The maid smiled down at him, oblivious to the dark storm brewing in his mind. “There we go, my sweet little lord. All settled now.”

  Oh, he’d settle alright—settle for nothing less than an escape from this torturous existence.

  Just then, as if the universe had decided to play a cruel joke on him, Mother walked in, her warm smile lighting up the room.

  “What’s this, Raven?” she asked in that voice that made him want to snap, even if it was the kindest thing she’d ever said to him. “Trying to escape again?”

  Raven barely held back a sigh. Yes, Mother, I'm trying to escape again, because being a prisoner in my own damn body is exactly what I dreamed about when I was 37 years old. Just lovely.

  She picked him up with ease, her arms enveloping him in a gentle embrace. Raven’s mind seethed. I’ll remember this, Mother. Every time you hold me like this, pretending like this is normal. I’ll remember every kiss, every “little dragon” nonsense you’ve thrown at me.

  But that was when the real disaster struck.

  Lord Magnus. His older brother, the heir to the Dukedom, was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like he owned the place.

  Raven’s heart sank.

  Of course, Magnus. Of course you’re here to witness this misery. Because why not? Why not have the whole family gather around and watch me squirm?

  Magnus' voice rang out with that irritating, superior tone. “Trying to escape again, little brother? How many times do you think you’re going to get out of there?”

  Raven’s blood boiled. You think I don’t know this is hopeless? His frustration reached a boiling point, and his inner monologue couldn’t be stopped.

  “I’ll remember this. I’ll remember every time you stared at me like I’m some cute little pet. I’ll remember how you watched me struggle every damn day, all while thinking it’s amusing. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Magnus. I’ll remember every time you ‘mockingly’ called me ‘little dragon,’ when the only thing I feel is the cage around me. Every damn word, every second of this humiliation...

  I’ll remember every time you watched me poop myself. I will. Oh, I’ll make sure I remember. And one day, Magnus, I’ll make you pay. Not just for you... but for everyone in this miserable little nursery who thinks it’s ‘cute’ that I’m trapped in a baby’s body. You think this is funny now? Just wait until I get my hands on you.

  Because vengeance, Magnus, vengeance is a dish best served with baby powder.”

  Magnus just smirked and returned to his reading, completely unaware of the storm that was brewing inside Raven’s head.

  But Raven wasn’t finished. Oh no. As the maid and mother cooed over him, his mind raced with plans, with schemes, with vengeance. One day, they would all regret this. One day, they would understand exactly how long he’d been trapped in this prison.

  And when the time came—when he was finally free—there would be no mercy. Not for anyone.

  To Be Continued...