Nathan - POV
Fuck. Shit. Dammit.
It’s been several days since my… birth, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around this cosmic joke. I’m in a fucking fantasy world. A literal medieval, swords-and-sorcery, dirt-under-your-nails, tavern-smelling, cliché-ridden fantasy world.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved this stuff back in my old life. Ever since I could read, I devoured isekai stories, manga, web novels, light novels, you name it. They were my escape, my guilty pleasure, my way of coping with the horrors I saw and did in the military. My brothers-in-arms thought I was weird at first, but eventually I won them over. Before long, half our unit was reading manga in the barracks. Some even got into hentai. Jackson especially. Horny bastard. I can still hear him laughing, waving around some ridiculous doujin like it was a holy relic.
And now? Now I’m living the dream...or the nightmare. It depends on how you look at it.
I used to wonder what it would be like to be the protagonist of one of those stories. To wake up in another world, armed with cheat skills, destined for greatness. But am I the protagonist here? Or am I the villain? Or maybe I’m just one of those nameless background characters, a mob destined to die in chapter three.
Whatever the case, I’ve resolved to live this life as fully as God will permit me. My previous life ended with a bang, literally.
Memories of my lost life still haunt my dreams. At least now I can confirm that babies do dream, if one can still count me as one.
I was twenty-six. Young, but already carrying more scars than most men twice my age. After the military, I thought I’d finally found my path. I got into MIT, yeah, MIT...studied aerospace and nuclear engineering. My restless mind needed something to chew on, and science was the only thing that kept me sane. Finally, at thirty-one I got my degree in nuclear science and engineering.
Right after graduation, I landed a job with a defense contractor, working on what was supposed to be humanity’s first operational nuclear fusion reactor. The holy grail of energy. Clean, limitless power. The kind of thing that could change the world.
And then the explosion happened.
Was it a terrorist attack? An accident? Sabotage? I’ll never know. One moment I was running diagnostics, the next I was engulfed in fire and light. And then… darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was here. In this ridiculous setup. A baby in a peasant’s hut.
I looked at the people around me and realized, these were my new family.
My mother, Dianne, is stunning. Blonde hair, green eyes, curves that would make a saint stumble. But more than that, she radiates warmth. She’s gentle, caring, the kind of woman who makes you feel safe just by being near her.
My father, Jakob, is no slouch either. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, a jawline sharp enough to cut stone. He’s a hunter, strong and capable, the kind of man who provides without complaint.
Then there are my siblings. Jack, my older brother, about five years old, with the same brown hair as Dad. And Serena, my little sister, cute as a button, also brown-haired. Seeing them makes me think of my family back on Earth; my parents, my siblings, my girlfriend.
God, my girlfriend. I never even got to say goodbye.
I sigh...well, as much as a baby can sigh. That life is gone. All I can do now is pray that God looks after them. Because He sure as hell threw me into this mindfuck without warning. A little heads-up would’ve been nice, Lord.
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And yes, I’m religious. Raised Catholic. Maybe this is punishment for my sins. For the cursing. For the killing. For all the blood on my hands.
If so, then so be it. I’ll endure.
This is a fantasy world, right? So, there should be magic. Swords, sorcery, dragons, elves; the whole package. If this is one of those typical isekai setups, then I should be able to use magic. And if I can… watch out, world. Jonathan...no, Nathan, is here to rock your world.
I didn’t have to wait long for confirmation.
One day, my mother strapped me to her back and took me into town. She works as a cook at a tavern, and apparently it was “bring your baby to work” day. Serena came along too, skipping happily beside us.
I was excited. Finally, a chance to see the world beyond our little hut. Of course, being a baby, I promptly fell asleep halfway there. Figures.
When I woke up, we were entering a walled town. Guards stood at the gates, armed with swords and spears. Yup. Confirmed. Typical isekai. Dammit.
The town wasn’t huge, but it was bustling. Merchants hawked their wares, children darted between stalls, and the clatter of hooves echoed on cobblestone streets. At least they had cobblestones. The buildings were timber and stone, medieval European style. Quaint, if you ignored the overwhelming stench of horse shit and human waste. Hygiene clearly wasn’t a priority here.
As I observed from my perch on Mom’s back, I noticed something else, other races. Dwarves with braided beards, beastkin with twitching ears and tails, elves with sharp features and sharper eyes. And adventurers, of course. Men and women armed with swords, axes, bows, and staves. Staves. Which meant magic. My heart raced.
This is it. Proof. Magic exists here.
But not everything was wonderful and excitement. I noticed the way some men looked at my mother. The leers, the whispers, the bold approaches. I get it, she’s beautiful. But for the love of God, learn to take no for an answer.
Thankfully, she brushed them off, but the sight made my blood boil. When I grow up, I swear I’ll deal with scum like that. Sexual harassment lawsuits don’t exist here, but fists and blades do. And if that fails, well… I’ll rip their balls off.
Finally, we arrived at the tavern. The owner, a woman in her forties, greeted us warmly. She cooed at me, picked me up, and smothered me against her chest. Not the worst way to be welcomed, I’ll admit.
Eventually, Mom reclaimed me and placed me in a crib...in the kitchen. A crib. In the kitchen. Fire safety inspectors would have a field day with this. But hey, different world, different standards.
Serena helped as a waitress, carrying trays almost as big as she was. Adorable.
And me? I lay in my crib, watching, listening, absorbing everything. This is my new world. Technologically and socially backward, sure, but fascinating all the same.
So here I am. A baby in a medieval fantasy world. A former soldier, an engineer, a man who once dreamed of building the future, now reduced to drooling in a crib while my mother cooks stew.
It’s absurd. It’s humiliating. It’s hilarious. But it’s also an opportunity.
I don’t know why I was brought here. Punishment? Chance? Divine plan? All I know is that I have another shot in life. And this time, I intend to make the most of it.
I’ll grow. I’ll learn. I’ll adapt. And when the time comes, I’ll carve out a place for myself in this world.
And if by chance. or by the grace of God, I discover that I can wield magic in this world, then I swear I will devote myself to mastering it. Not for glory, not for power, but for the sake of my new family. They deserve more than this endless cycle of scraping by, more than the constant fear of hunger and the weight of poverty pressing down on their shoulders.
There are many burdens a man can shoulder, but none cut as deeply as watching the very people who gave me life, struggle day after day. My mother’s weary smile, stretched thin to hide her exhaustion; my father’s quiet sighs when he believes no one is listening; the way my brother and sister accept so little, as though scarcity were the natural order of things, these sights wound me more than any battlefield ever could. I may not know them intimately yet, but blood and circumstance have bound me to this family. And because I am one of them now, I will not stand idle. I will help them, no matter what it takes.
Coming from the modern world, from a nation of abundance and freedom, I cannot accept this life of bare survival. I was raised in comfort compared to this, blessed with opportunities that I once took for granted. To see my family here bound by poverty feels like an injustice I cannot ignore. If magic is the key to change, then I will seize it with both hands.
Because if there’s one thing my old life taught me, it’s this: survival isn’t about strength or luck. It’s about will. And I have plenty of that.
For now, I’ll bide my time. I’ll listen. I’ll observe. And I’ll wait for the day when I can finally stand on my own two feet and say to this world...Nathan is here.

