Reincarnation of Nikola Tesla in another world-Chapter 2: Second Awakening

A world of blackness, of stillness, of soundless profundity. There was no sky, no stars, only the abyss of unbroken void stretching to infinity

I floated in nothing, barely aware I existed at all. No sound, no feeling—just the weight of emptiness pressing in from all sides. Time meant nothing here. I just... was.

Then something shifted. A weird vibration, not quite a sound but more like pulsing through the dark. It started weak but grew stronger. The nothing around me rippled like someone had thrown a stone in a pond, and I felt something beyond the emptiness.

First came pressure, formless but there. Then warmth, and a steady thumping near me that anchored me to reality. I didn't understand what it was, but it felt familiar. A heartbeat. thump....thump.....thump....

My brain felt foggy, like trying to think through thick mud. I wasn't the genius I used to be—my thoughts came slow and simple, like a candle fighting against the wind. All my knowledge and brilliance felt locked away, just out of reach. But there were flashes—electricity crackling, white hospital walls, the heavy weight of regret crushing me. Then that final moment. My last breath. All that anger. That wish...

Light broke through, dim at first, then harsh and bright. My vision was blurry, but I made out shapes moving around me. People were talking, their voices tired and routine. Rough hands picked me up, and the air felt cold on my skin. I cried out without meaning to—a weak, pitiful sound. The voices barely noticed.

Time passed. I didn't know days anymore, just light and dark, warm and cold, hungry and full. My world shrank to small spaces and people who mostly ignored me. I learned things without realizing I was learning. I started recognizing faces, knowing what people would do before they did it. They were always working—hands rough from labor, eyes dull from doing the same things over and over.

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Braelor's orphanage wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy place. The walls were old but strong, built on land some dead noble had given away years ago. That so-called "generosity" had gotten pretty thin after all this time.

The people running it weren't cruel—they were just tired. The caretakers worked as hard as the kids did, spending their lives doing endless chores. Some worked for rich families, doing all the jobs they didn't want to do. Others got sent to work in the fields, earning money they'd never see. It wasn't great, but it kept us alive.

One caretaker stood out—Marga. She was older, with broad shoulders and eyes that had seen too much to be soft anymore. She didn't talk much, and when she did, she got straight to the point. Unlike the others, she didn't look at us like we were either pitiful or annoying. She just worked, like we all did, taking care of us without making a big deal of it. Her hands were rough but careful. She never hit anyone, never made empty threats. To me, she was the closest thing to steady ground in this place. A constant amid variables.

Some of the other kids caught my attention too. There was Aldric, older than most, always watching everything with sharp eyes. He'd whisper things, always trying to learn whatever he could. Lirien was younger and small, always collecting stuff—pieces of cloth, broken things, anything that might be useful later. Then there was Mira, who used silence like a shield, moving around like a shadow no one noticed.

Even as a kid, I could feel it—something running through this world like a hidden river. It flowed in the ground, hung in the air like a whisper you could almost hear. I didn't know what to call it yet, didn't really understand it, but it was there. Something beyond what eyes could see or ears could hear, woven into everything around us.

Magic....

I saw it before I knew what it was. Whispered words that seemed to have real weight to them. People who could heal wounds with just a touch or call fire with just a thought. It was as much a part of this world as breathing, but it felt just out of reach.

For now.

I didn't talk. Not yet, i was unable to.

I watched.

I listened.

I learned.

My thoughts were simple, but they were growing stronger every day. I wasn't just another orphan at Braelor's orphanage. I was regaining myself.