James Swift was sweating bullets—and not just because of the candlelight. His daughter had just been born, his wife looked exhausted but radiant, and he had no idea how to hold a baby without feeling like he might snap in half from nerves. He stood frozen in the soft glow of the flickering flame, heart pounding against his chest like a war drum. A warm breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from their tiny garden—as if the whole world was trying to celebrate this moment with them.
But James couldn't tear his eyes away from the bundle in his wife's arms. Wrapped in layers of soft blankets, their newborn daughter blinked up at the world with the slow curiosity of someone freshly reincarnated. Her eyes, barely open, sparkled like she'd already seen something worth remembering.
"Lyra," James whispered softly, the name rolling off his tongue as gently as a lullaby. He moved closer, his legs almost unsteady with emotion. Carefully, he reached out, brushing his fingertips lightly against his daughter's small cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft, her tiny hand grasping instinctively around his finger. James felt his eyes sting with tears as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering a quiet prayer to the One true God—the Word who gives life, holds all things together, and watches over them.
The warmth of the moment was gently interrupted by slow, deliberate footsteps. James looked up to see his father, Grandpa Swift, approaching slowly, the flickering candlelight catching the lines etched by years of smiles and worry upon his aged face. In his hands was a delicate silver necklace, from which hung a small yet captivating dice, its polished surface reflecting the room's gentle glow.
"It's time," Grandpa Swift said softly, kneeling beside them and carefully placing the heirloom necklace around Lyra's tiny neck. "This has been passed down through generations of our family. May this humble charm guard you well, little angel. May your fate be brighter than ours."
James felt a rush of pride and affection surge within him as he held his wife close. Little did he know that the simple dice necklace around his daughter's neck held a destiny far beyond anything they could have imagined.
Darkness.
Again.
My consciousness felt sluggish, trapped within a dense, suffocating fog. I strained to open my eyes, move my fingers, wiggle my toes—but nothing responded. Worse, I couldn't even feel my limbs. It was as though they'd vanished entirely. Panic surged, and questions cascaded chaotically through my mind, each more urgent than the last.
Wait…why can't I move? Is this what reincarnation feels like? Did I mess up somehow?
"Hello?" I mentally called out, desperately hoping for some response—any response—but my voice was silent, nonexistent. Frustration grew, boiling into anger as I tried again and again, only to meet the same impenetrable wall of emptiness. My senses felt dull and muffled, wrapped in countless layers of invisible cotton.
Slowly, gradually, a sensation crept into my awareness—a steady rhythm, gentle and calming. A heartbeat, though it wasn't mine. Warmth surrounded me, soothing yet strangely disorienting. The initial panic subsided slightly, replaced by cautious curiosity.
I need to focus. Think. Where am I exactly?
I concentrated, and slowly, a dim, blurry view of my surroundings unfolded around me. A room bathed in warm candlelight materialized, cozy yet modest. The walls were decorated with small embroidered tapestries depicting delicate flowers and lush fields, clearly crafted by gentle hands. Sturdy wooden furniture, aged but comforting filled the room: a rocking chair, a handcrafted wooden cradle lined with soft blankets, and a simple bedside table holding flickering candles that cast comforting shadows against the wall.
A gentle breeze drifted through an open window, carrying the fragrance of blooming flowers from somewhere nearby—calming lavender mingled with the subtle sweetness of honeysuckle.
My vision shifted slightly, as though carried gently, and then settled upon two figures standing over me—clearly new parents. The man was young yet ruggedly handsome, perhaps in his early thirties, with warm, expressive eyes the color of polished oak, framed by gentle lines of joy and relief. His short, messy brown hair matched the earthy warmth of his skin, tanned slightly from days spent tending to fields beneath the sun. He gazed downward, his face glowing with pride and emotion as he softly whispered something indistinct but unmistakably affectionate.
Beside him stood a woman, breathtaking in a natural, radiant way. Her hair cascaded in gentle waves, shimmering softly like spun gold in the candlelight, framing a face of delicate, serene beauty. Her eyes, a bright and sparkling sapphire blue, gazed lovingly downward with tenderness and wonder. Her smooth, porcelain-like skin seemed to glow softly, accentuated by the flush of emotion and joy filling her cheeks. She smiled softly, warmth radiating from every delicate feature.
I watched, confused and intrigued, as the man reached down gently, softly brushing his fingertips against something—I realized with a shock he was touching me. Or rather, the baby I seemed to be trapped inside.
Wait, no—no, no! Did I become some sort of parasite? Am I actually INSIDE someone?
Horror gripped me tightly, icy and suffocating. Reincarnation was supposed to be grand—epic adventures with swords, magic, and maybe even a goddess offering cheat abilities—not…whatever this was. Not trapped helplessly inside an infant, unable even to control my own movements or voice.
Desperation clawed at me. I fought again, mentally thrashing and straining with all my might, desperately willing myself to move, twitch, or scream. But nothing changed. I was utterly, frustratingly immobile, bound within a helpless existence that mocked my dreams of fantasy glory.
Exhaustion finally overtook my desperate struggles, gently but firmly forcing me to accept my strange new reality. With a resigned mental sigh, I sank deeper into the warmth and softness that enveloped my consciousness.
Well…at least it's comfortable here, I thought grudgingly, allowing the soothing sensation of gentle warmth and muffled heartbeats to lull my anxious thoughts into silence, if only for a moment.
But that comfortable sensation lasted barely seconds. My newfound peace shattered abruptly as I noticed the father stepping closer, reaching toward me—no, toward the baby I inhabited. Before I could process what was happening, my entire world lurched, catapulting into chaos. I felt violently tossed upward, downward, sideways—all directions at once. It was like being strapped to an unhinged merry-go-round powered by rocket fuel, operated by a maniac clown.
Oh god! What's happening?! Is this baby spinning me like a Beyblade?!
I was BEYBLADING. Not metaphorically. Literally.
Spinning. YEETING. Achieving lift-off.
Wait—is she trying to yeet herself into orbit?! What is this, some kind of secret Project X Elun Musk's cooking up in a baby lab?!
And why… why does the word "yeet" echo with such dark, mysterious energy? Like some kind of cosmic foreshadowing I'm too mentally unstable to unpack right now.
My nonexistent stomach heaved violently, and a sensation overwhelmed me—like needing to vomit but lacking anything physical to throw up. The nausea surged horribly through my consciousness, causing a wave of panic.
I'm gonna puke! Wait—how do I even puke without a body?!
Desperate and disoriented, I mentally "threw up," feeling as though my brain itself was ejecting imaginary vomit everywhere inside my mind. It was absurd, disgusting, and oddly vivid.
Oh no! My brain—I just threw up part of my brain! Can you even do that? Am I losing brain cells?! Somebody stop this ride—I want off!
...And that's when I knew reincarnation didn't come with a user manual.
Eventually, mercifully, the spinning slowed to a halt, and I felt warmth and security gently returning, though my mental equilibrium remained thoroughly scrambled.
Worst reincarnation ever.... The father had gently lifted the baby—me—in his strong, careful arms.
I felt warmth and security returning slowly, though my equilibrium still reeled from that sudden motion.
I heard his voice clearly now, proud and playful. "Come here, love," he called softly, guiding his wife toward a nearby mirror with a delighted grin on his face. He tilted his head, examining their reflections closely, his voice full of good-natured pride as he teased, "See? Our daughter's beauty definitely comes from me—just look at that face. It's like staring right at my reflection!"
The woman laughed softly, a sound that held warmth and gentle mockery, as she playfully elbowed her husband. "Oh, stop it, James. Thankfully she's inherited more of me than you—see her eyes?"
They shared a tender laugh, gazing lovingly at their daughter's reflection, oblivious to my internal confusion.
Slowly, my vision cleared, and through their affectionate teasing, I finally saw it clearly—the baby's reflection. She was undeniably adorable, cherubic cheeks glowing softly, eyes wide with curious innocence—the kind of eyes that could melt a dragon's heart, their vivid sapphire blue hue just like her mother's, sparkling brightly with a natural charm.
Her hair, though? A warm honey-brown, clearly a blend of her father's deep, earthy brown and her mother's radiant, shimmering gold. Candlelight danced across her soft curls, making her look almost ethereal.
So, that's Lyra, I thought absently. I guess reincarnating into a cute baby isn't the worst fate imaginable....
For a moment, I just watched them, lulled by the warmth.
A doting dad. A glowing mom.
A baby that looked like she stepped out of a fantasy anime's season premiere.
Is this some slice-of-life opening? Are they about to kiss while the camera pans into a sunset? Should I brace myself for a J-pop theme song?
As I mentally reached for popcorn to enjoy the scene, something… twitched.
Not in them.
In me.
My vision felt.... wrong.
It wasn't coming from Lyra's eyes. It was lower. Tilted. Off-center. Like I was dangling beneath her chin—not behind her gaze.
My focus shattered. Crumbled. My soul twisted with a creeping suspicion.
My heart—or whatever passed for one now—tightened uncomfortably.
With rising dread, I looked down—
No... could it be…?
A pendant. Silver. Small.
Dangling from her neck. A semi polished off-white cube, catching the candlelight.
It shimmered, unnervingly familiar.
My perception zoomed in… then out… then in again...
I wasn't the baby..
I'm not a hero.
Not a mage.
Not even a talking sword.
I was the pendant...
A dice-shaped pendant....
….....
You've GOT TO BE KIDDING ME… I REINCARNATED INTO A DICE?!
FRICKIN'. DICE.
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Autor Note:
Hello! I'm EdenC — thank you so much for reading I Was Reincarnated Into a Dice.
I'm just a reader, like many of you. I started this story because I wanted to write something I'd actually enjoy reading — something absurd, emotional, and a little unhinged. If you laughed, cried, or tilted your head in disbelief, then I've done my job.
I'll be posting daily until Chapter 10, then switching to 2 chapters per week.
Since I'm juggling this alongside a full-time job, I appreciate your patience — and your presence here means the world.
Thank you for rolling with me. 🎲
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