A new world.

  That's the only conclusion I can come to in this situation.

  From the moment my consciousness awoke, every second was information gathering. There was no room for surprises or sentimental emotions. There was no time to adjust to these absurd circumstances. I had to comprehend, analyze, and construct a bigger picture from the scattered pieces of reality.

  I start from my own body.

  My vision was still blurry, like a camera with an imperfect focus. I couldn't see clearly, but I could feel.

  The hair on my head felt thicker than the average baby, falling slightly over my forehead. Unlike the thin hair that newborns usually have, 'Bck,' I thought. I couldn't see it myself, but my logic told me so. If I had to guess, the color of this hair was most likely deep dark; not much different from my previous life.

  Then, my eyes.

  I couldn't observe my own reflection, but I knew my irises had a much higher level of tolerance to light compared to this woman's eyes. No sensitivity to bright light, no biasing effect from bright colors.

  'Pitch bck, most likely.

  However, what is more interesting to me right now is not myself.

  I raised my gaze slowly, letting my still-blurry eyes try to catch this woman's face more clearly.

  Aurelia.

  The name was mentioned several times by medical personnel. So, that was the name, 'Uncommon names in the 21st century.'

  It's not hard to deduce that the name has Latin roots, or is at least associated with an aristocratic family or someone from a high social css.

  Now, her face.

  The features... Strong, but not too sharp. There is a bance between firmness and softness that keeps her from looking too cold. There are no exaggerated expressions, as if every movement of her facial muscles is always in full control.

  Her eyes, although currently looking tired, still retained a sharpness that was familiar to me.

  'The gaze of a scientist,' I thought silently.

  It is not the gaze of someone who is often swept up in emotions. It is the gaze of someone who is used to analyzing, understanding, and drawing deeper conclusions than what is seen on the surface.

  Her skin is pale white. But this is not a sign of weakness, 'Rarely exposed to prolonged sun exposure,' continued the analysis in my mind.

  If I combine the color of her skin, her golden blonde hair, and the impression of an aristocratic name, there is a high probability that this woman has a high social status or comes from a prominent family.

  But that doesn't really matter right now.

  I noticed each of her slightly heavy breaths. Every blink of her eyes that was slower than usual; probably so. Every tension at the corners of her lips. Every muscle in her face that was trying to maintain consciousness. Only one emerged, 'She is struggling to stay conscious.'

  I couldn't see her whole body, but I could tell she had lost a lot of blood.

  'How much blood has he lost? 300 milliliters? 500? Maybe more,' I guessed silently.

  Large amounts of blood loss can cause fainting within seconds. No matter how strong or intelligent a person is, the body has its limits.

  But she still persisted, 'Not because of empty resolve. Not because of ego. Not because of material interests. But because she wants to see her child.'

  I who wasn't even experienced in emotional connection with the concept of family. I who was not used to genuine affection without any hidden reasons. I who understood that in the world, retionships are often built on the basis of interests, not a pure desire to give.

  However, this woman... She doesn't even know me yet, but she fights with her own consciousness just to ensure that I'm still here, in her arms.

  'What an irony,' I muttered to myself.

  ××××××××××××××××××××

  I stared at the baby in my arms. No smile graced my lips, no expression hinting at excitement. I remained the same as always... calm, restrained, without showing any unnecessary emotion.

  However, deep inside me, I knew something was different. Happiness.

  A faint feeling, like a small fire that warms the chest, though not a single drop comes out in the form of an expression. Even in this moment, where many women would probably cry tears of joy or smile gratefully, I maintained my control.

  Smiling? It's not something I would do unless circumstances demanded it. Cry tears of joy? No way. I'm not the type of woman to let emotions rule my mind. But still... something felt more complete than before.

  My eyes swept over the face of this baby, my child.

  Bck.

  Even bcker than a starless night, without the slightest reflection of light. A far cry from my blonde hair. There was no resembnce, no impression that he was my son just by the color of his hair. But that's not unusual, genetics can work in many ways.

  What was even more interesting was how adorable she was, 'Cute,' I thought to myself.

  His cheeks were round, slightly puffed up, giving an adorable contrast to his dark hair. As a doctor, I know newborn babies often have slightly swollen facial features. That is normal, something that will change over time.

  But still... My hand itches, 'I want to pinch him.'

  However, I didn't.

  Medical reasons. Newborn babies are very susceptible to infection. My hands may be clean enough, but not sterile enough to touch her skin freely. In other words, my maternal instinct had to wait.

  But then, something else caught my attention.

  His eyes.

  I looked directly into her bck irises. And in that instant, I felt that there was something that shouldn't be there. As a doctor, as a scientist, I knew a newborn baby shouldn't be staring at someone like this.

  Those eyes... So bck. So mysterious. So oppressive.

  A deep gaze, like a bottomless pit. There is no bias of light, no reflection of feelings, just an emptiness that seems to swallow anyone who dares to look at it for too long. His irises and pupils gave a clear message.

  'No one can know my thoughts.

  There is no boundary between ignorance and genius.

  I see the contempt of all existence,' I thought to myself in agitation.

  And what made the most sense was... This look didn't belong to a baby. I remained silent, but my brain began to work faster, 'This... is not normal.'

  A baby should be crying, moving, showing impulsive signs of life. That is the natural response of all newborns. But my son?

  Silent and observant, watching me as if it would eat me alive. For a moment, there was a danger arm going off in my mind.

  I'm a scientist. I've seen various strange medical cases throughout my life. But this time, something inside me refused to accept what I was seeing as normal. My professional instincts were screaming. Warning me that this "thing" in my arms was probably... not human.

  But I ignored it, 'Intrusive thoughts.' Strange thoughts that come up suddenly and I shouldn't care about.

  It's impossible, isn't it? I gave birth to him. I felt this baby's presence in my body for nine months. I know with certainty that this is my child.

  But still... 'Why doesn't this feeling go away? What if my instincts are right? What if my child really is... something abnormal?'

  'No, no, no. That's impossible,' I muttered to myself.

  I sighed softly, trying to erase that thought.

  And even if it's true... Even if my son does something absurd one day... Even if he becomes a serial killer one day...

  I know one thing. I won't let anyone touch him easily. Perhaps, this is the first time I want to be selfish.