A consciousness floated in the eternal void.
It was surrounded by darkness and a deafening silence that threatened to consume his very existence.
It's thoughts grew blurry, it's memories grew faint.
Then there was a sharp sound. It was loud.
Like a cry?
It was distant, then muffled, but close enough to jolt him awake from what seemed to have been an eternity of sleep.
'What's happening now?'
The floating thought asked upon itself for it did not know.
It had no idea.
It was even surprised to have been able to form the thought at all.
'???'
The who, the what and everything else was a blurr.
Confusion.
Then there was a feeling of wetness, heat, pressure, seemingly all at once.
And then...PAIN.
'Pain?'
A feeling that is distant and unfamiliar, so... primal. So beautiful.
Like a long lost friend.
He felt a sensation tugging at his core and he opened his eyes.
Blinding lights and blurry figures greeted him as he tried to make out what is happening.
All this hubbub of noises and movement and feelings made him realize that he wasn't being destroyed by magnetism or an explosion anymore…
'Huh? What? Why would I think that?' It thought to itself before memories came flooding in.
'Cyberdine, or was it Skynet? Doesn't matter... I died. Was destroyed. What? Me? Who am I? Where the hell am I?'
It was then that the blurry figures appeared as the light intensity lowered that he realized the answer to his questions.
His repertoire of questions vanished.
This situation may be way worse than he imagined.
If what he saw can be trusted, then...
He was just born into the world.
He realized, as the world around him came into blurry focus.
He gasped... His lungs pulled in their first true breath.
*Waaaaaaaa!*
'What? I'm crying?'
Amidst his uncontrollable cries, he noticed that the air wasn't filled with pollution or scorched metal of the world after the fall, but earthy, herbal tones.
He could feel it, he felt alive more than ever.
But he still had his doubts for something as absurd as what has happened to him.
Or happening to him.
'What the... Did I do drugs? No, I don't do that. Then, is it Skynet's new experiment where it plays mind tricks on people?'
'Drugs... Skynet?'
He frowned with confusion when more memories surged through him like corrupted code reassembling into clarity as he recalled his time of death.
The Genisys facility, the magnetic field tearing him apart, the look on Kyle Reese's face as he helplessly watched him getting attacked.
The same face watched as he got destroyed by the time machine.
The nanites failed in recovery as his body slowly disintegrated under the rejection of the forces of time and space.
'So I really did die. But, did I... Did I really just become a freaking baby? Reincarnation is real?'
John Connor was a human, leader of the resistance against skynet.
Then a T3000.
The perfect combination between man and machine.
He's the son of Kyle Reese, a man from the future.
He is the first man to hack man-killing machines.
Been sent to and from time via time travel.
The man, the legend.
Now, a baby.
[Beep!]
That was the Nth time he ignored the prompt from the skynet AI.
'AI? But I'm a baby. Did the machine phase matter that turned me into a machine accompany me in my reincarnation as well? Does that mean I still have to follow Skynet's protocols?'
His vision swam as the AI notifications continued to ping on the background.
[Connection to the host 'John Conor' reestablished]
[Scanning... Detected anomaly in the memory region of the brain, detected anomaly in the whole body.]
[Memory reconstruction initiated.]
[Error.]
[Establishing protocols on human body management to enhance and optimize growth.]
[No nanites detected.]
[Management protocols has been limited to hormone secretions.]
[Quantum connection to Skynet system is lost, scanning for signal...]
[Signal connection unavailable]
[Error detected, scanning database.]
[Error.]
[Literature detected.]
[194,235,674,876 literatures available.]
[Error is now temporarily identified as possibly one form of the following experiences: reincarnation, transmigration, Isekai, spirited away...]
'So what is this? Could it have something to do with the error in the time travel?'
[There's not enough data to support such conjecture. The result is highly unlikely since host is not in the middle or anywhere around time travel when connection was lost. Still, some degrees of possibility exist due to extraneous factors.]
'It seems that this question would not be answered for now or any time soon.'
He sighed internally. Just then,
"Lgsjrje. Lgsjrje Felird! Fhen nhs un tgat weed eb eht eman fo ym rieh."
"....?" The booming sound of a man's voice took John's attention with a start.
It was a tall man with robust physique like that of a soldier's.
He laughed apologetically at his son's comical reaction while the surrounding people could only smile while holding their laughter.
'German? No. It sounded like it but no.'
John left it to the AI for convenience.
[Foreign language detected. Recording. Analyzing... Decripting...]
[Low energy detected. Host will need to temporarily shut down.]
'Crap...' everything went dark as he lost his consciousness.
He was a baby after all, using his AI assistant with an adult brain capacity must have put a strain on the energy reserves of his newborn body.
He slept for four hours and he woke up suckling on a tit. A wet nurse's tit if her attire could be relied upon.
'Awhhh hell no...'
After some realizations and a little bit of reality check trauma, he finally accepted his situation and focused on the task at hand.
[Language Analysis Complete]
[Translating Conversation: Leylin, Leylin Farlier! That From now on that will be the name of my heir!]
Time passed.
Slowly and grueling at first.
He still couldn't move much, he just lay there... eating, crying, observing, pooping.
He hated the crying and pooping part the most.
Babies, he now knew, were disgusting little meat-sacks of vulnerability.
And yet... by some entity's will... he was one.
'Filter this 'baby memory', I want this embarrassing episode of life forgotten. Some things are best left in oblivion.'
[Affirmative. Initiating task...]
With every passing day, his mind pieced together more of this world's language and more of the physical world.
[Cellular function normal, heightened growth hormone excretion, accelerated metabolism. Note: abnormal organ attached to the host's left atrial wall. No signs of detrimental effects, monitoring in progress.]
'How are you still here talking to me?'
The AI integrated seamlessly, like a ghost system running silently beneath his new biology.
He had no idea if it was real, a leftover echo from Skynet's nano-rewriting, or some warped manifestation of his former self. But it was there, and he had to admit that it was very helpful.
[Unable to give a reliable answer due to insufficient data.]
Time passed unrelenting, without pause or mercy.
Noble class.
Status.
Privilege.
These are things that meant very little in a world where hunter-killer drones ruled the skies.
But here?
Here, they meant survival.
And for the first time since his birth, he started to appreciate this life. For it is basically paradise compared to the hell he's been through.
This unlikely gift where there was no Skynet watching.
No Judgment Day looming.
No resistance to lead.
No burdens...
Just a life full of possibilities and a bright future ahead.
Basically a reset.
A second chance at life in another world.
Probably not every man's dream but possibly 80-90%'s.
Yet even in peace, he stayed alert.
Aside from habit, he knew this world could just be as dangerous as the one he left behind.
The killing machine in him never truly slept. It couldn't.
As time passed, changes slowly occured from within him as he continued to grow.
Abnormal changes.
These changes were subtle at first and are easy to dismiss.
For one, his skin healed faster than it should.
A careless cut once tore into his skin but the flesh knotted itself back together within a couple of days, smooth and flawless, leaving no scab, no scar, no memory of injury except in his mind.
With a single thought, he could map the contours of a room in shifting bands of heat, reading the world in thermal gradients where others would see only darkness.
At three months old, his eyes locked onto every movement in the shadows, tracking with a predator's precision, silent and calculating.
It wasn't memory.
It wasn't instinct.
It was the phantom of his past as a T-3000 was still breathing beneath his skin.
As if each of these abilities are beginning to awaken in every fiber of his being.
[Nanoforge online... Initiating nanite production...]
[Nanites detected... establishing connection... connection established.]
[Awaiting system protocols...]
[Error.]
[Unable to connect...]
[Proxy 'John Connor' has been found.]
[John Connor: Please issue your command.]
'Scan and analyze, then compile my physical stats.'
[Scanning host. Analyzing. Compiling.]
[Leylin Farlier
Strength: 0.3
Agility: 0.3
Vitality: 3
Attached Modules: Nanoforge, Nanites]
At five years of age, it seems the metal has finally arrived.
[Warning: Dormant nanite production structure 'Nanoforge' is now active and operational. Identified as an organic Nanoforge. Nanite Production is at 0.0003% capacity. Estimated time to full capacity: 10 years, 2 months, 1 day, 3 hours, 33 seconds.]
[Warning: Machine Phase Matter within cell structure is at 0.0003%. Estimated time to full conversion: 10 years, 2 months, 1 day, 1 hour.]
He stared at the data with a strange sense of comfort.
'So it's still here, I'm still me... John Connor, T3000, just not fully awake.'
He felt a mixture of fear and gratitude.
Fear of losing control and grateful that in this world filled with knights and magic, he would have something familiar to rely on.
As a man who came from a shattered world where he had to hide like a rat in order to live, he appreciated the peacefulness of his new life.
But he knew there is a price to peace that he had to pay in full eventually.
If one wanted peace, then they must prepare for war.
'Strength is the true path. Only with enough strength can one maintain the luxury of peace.'
In the quiet corners of the estate, behind heavy curtains and just beyond the reach of the lord's eye, the maids whispered amongst themselves of the tales of their young master.
"He's only five, isn't he?" one murmured, glancing around nervously as she wiped down the polished railing.
"Aye, but have you seen him? Tall as a seven-year-old kid," another answered, lowering her voice even further. "Walks around like he owns the place, too. No stumbling, no babbling like the other children."
"I heard," the first said, leaning in conspiratorially, "that he's already mastered his letters. Caught him reading from an old ledger the other day. Reading, mind you, not just randomly flipping pages."
The third, younger and newer to the staff, gasped. "That's not natural, is it?"
The older maid shook her head grimly. "Lord Farlier says it's talent, inherited by blood, but..." She trailed off, wiping invisible dust from the banister.
"Sometimes, when he looks at you, it feels like he's seeing right through you. Like he's... measuring you."
"Shhh... The young master's matters are not for you to discuss. Mind your words and hold your tongue. If you wish to keep them!" The butler scolded in hushed warning.
They all shivered a little, stealing nervous glances down the hall where the young heir was last seen, a small shadow moving with the calm certainty of someone far older than his years.
Without minding the idle chatter from the maids or the scolding from the butler, Leylin headed to the training courtyard as he was instructed, the morning air was sharp with the smell of dew and fresh-cut summer grass.
John Farlier stood tall and proud, arms crossed as he droned over his son.
"You must remember," John said, voice firm but patient, "the breathing technique is the foundation of us knights. Our strength, our endurance all of it stems from here."
Leylin, small but composed, nodded without a word. His golden-brown eyes focused entirely on his father.
John knelt to his level, demonstrating slowly: a deep inhale through the nose, expanding the chest and stomach, then a controlled, deliberate exhale.
A rhythm that called the body's energy into order, strengthening blood and bone with each cycle.
Leylin mirrored him flawlessly.
One breath.
Two.
Three.
A complete cycle.
Then he stopped, straightened his spine, and blinked once.
[Optimization Opportunity Detected.]
The AI's familiar, toneless voice whispered into his consciousness, the interface overlay blooming behind his eyes.
[Knight Breathing Technique - Golden Radiance Version 1.0]
- Efficiency: 53%
- Oxygen absorption: Suboptimal.
- Circulatory enhancement: Suboptimal.
- Side Effects: High body strain.
Initiate optimization sequence?]
Without hesitation, Leylin thought, 'Proceed.'
and data flooded in.
Blood oxygenation levels, muscle fiber stimulation rates, energy efficiency curves.
Adjustments mapped themselves out in microseconds: slight alterations to inhalation timing, minor muscular contractions at key points, refined control over diaphragm tension.
[New Protocol Generated.]
Knight Breathing Technique - Golden Radiance Optimized Variant (Leylin Custom)
- Efficiency: 92%
- Side Effects: Slight body strain.]
Leylin adjusted subtly, imperceptibly to the eye but breathing a little deeper, shifting internal focus with precision impossible for an ordinary human, let alone a child.
John Farlier watched, unaware of the silent revolution unfolding before him. He smiled, mistaking Leylin's minor corrections as natural talent.
"Good," he said, clapping Leylin on the shoulder with pride. "Very good. It seems that with time, you'll surpass even me."
Leylin only bowed his head slightly in response, hiding the faint, calculating smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Two years later.
Farlier Estate
The training ground smelled of sweat, steel and dried blood, the kind that never fully left the stones no matter how many times they were scrubbed.
Morning mist clung to the cobblestones, curling around the boots of apprentice knights, soldiers and servants alike as the sun rose over the Farlier estate.
Leylin now stood still in the center of the training yard.
His small frame was rigid, his back straight despite the chill that cut through his tunic.
"Today I will be teaching you our family's secret knight killing technique, the Golden Cross Slash. This is different from the breathing technique I showed you when you are five, this is a secret technique that utilizes the energy from the life energy seed within knights in order to release devastating effects upon your enemies. Are you ready to learn?"
The eager father he was, John taught Leylin the family technique as soon as he learned that his heir can read at five years old.
If he only knew that Leylin could have done that from the cradle, he probably would have took the chance to teach him then.
A loving father he may be, but Baron John is a knight through and through, when it came to military matters he became very strict.
John Farlier stood in the center of the field, sword in hand, the blade glinting gold under the fading light.
Not far from him, Leylin, small but composed, mirrored his stance with a wooden practice sword.
"This," John began, his voice low, "is the true inheritance of the Farlier bloodline."
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, guiding Leylin's movements with a steady hand.
"The Golden Cross Slash."
John raised his sword in a high guard, exhaling slowly in rhythm with the knight breathing technique.
His muscles coiled like drawn steel.
Then, in a single explosive burst, he slashed downward diagonally from right to left as a golden arc flashed in the air followed by a second slash crossing it from the opposite side.
Two strokes, perfectly timed, executed with such force and precision that the air itself seemed to tear apart at the crossing point.
The ground where the strokes ended bore shallow scars, gouged from the raw kinetic energy.
Leylin's eyes gleamed, absorbing every detail.
John lowered his sword and turned to him.
"The first slash disrupts their defense," John said. "The second kills. It's not brute strength alone that matters, it's also the breath, timing, and intent. You gather power through the breathing technique, and release it in a single heartbeat with the killing move."
Leylin nodded once. No childish excitement and no useless questions. Just pure, cold focus.
He raised his practice sword, inhaled sharply, syncing his breathing to the optimized pattern the AI had helped him refine earlier.
Then a heartbeat later, he moved.
The first diagonal slash which was faster than expected.
The second cross slash soon followed sharper, cleaner than the previous.
There was no golden arc, not yet, but John blinked with surprise at the invisible pressure that seemed to ripple through the air in the boy's wake.
He smiled faintly, his fists tightened as pride welled up in his chest.
"Good," he said, stepping forward to adjust Leylin's grip by a hair.
"Can you go again? We'll carve it into your bones."
Leylin just nodded and continued his practice while the AI quietly fed him real-time feedback and his nanites slowly adjusted his muscles for the most efficient configuration:
[Kinetic Force Output: 42% of adult baseline.]
[Structural Weakness Detected in Shoulder Rotation.]
[Suggested Correction: Microadjust angle by 1.2 degrees.]
Leylin absorbed each correction without missing a beat, each repetition cleaner, faster, more precise. Basically a machine correcting itself and learning from itself.
In the deepening twilight, under the watchful gaze of his father, Leylin began etching the killing art of the Farlier bloodline into his very bones with a mind and body already surpassing the human standard.
When night comes for all to rest Leylin practiced the knight breathing technique again and again.
According to common practice, one to three cycles per day is recommended for optimum efficiency, any further cycles could only bring detrimental effects to the body.
This norm however only works for common people of this world.
Leylin had no fear of negative effects to the body.
His cells would not excrete impurities like some cultivation novel protagonist.
He is already optimized, his somatic cell to weight ratio is at an astounding 86 percent already. Everything not necessary for his growth has already been expelled a long time ago.
'Optimize the new secret killing technique.'
[Order received. Initiating task. Optimizing 'Golden Cross Slash'. Estimated time to completion 0 hours, 39 minutes 58 seconds.]
'I guess I should wait before practicing this technique wholeheartedly.'
His vision flickered. For a split second, the AR overlay flashed data points across the Viscount's posture, heartbeat, and tension range.
A warning pinged.
[Suggested counter: Low sweep, follow-up throat jab. Probability of successful takedown: 89.4%]
He blinked it away after a glance.
'Show me my stats now.'
[Leylin Farlier
Strength: 0.8
Agility: 0.8
Vitality: 3.8
Attached Modules: Machine Phase Matter, Nanoforge, Nanites, Skeletal Reinforcement, Enhanced Neural Interface, Self-repair Enhancement]
If magic was real in this world... then maybe, just maybe, the T-3000 would evolve into something his old world timeline never even dreamed of.
A fusion of future tech and arcane power.
He smiled in the dark, eyes glowing faintly for a moment.