Rose opened her eyes. Light—but not the soft golden glow of her nursery in the other world. Harsh, white hospital light flooded the room, reflecting off sterile walls and shiny equipment. Her tiny body felt strange, unfamiliar, yet familiar all the same.
[System Notice:
Second world awakening detected. You are now Rose Gilbert, newborn infant. Emotional and survival parameters active. Fate threads detected: extremely high. Observe. Protect. Learn.]
Even as a newborn, she knew she was not alone.
She remembered the Potter nursery, the warmth of James and Lily, the small, perfect bundle of her brother Harry. She remembered the first tug of responsibility, the weight of destiny pressing gently on her chest. And now, here she was again.
Her hazel eyes scanned the room. Everything smelled different, smelled sharp and cold—antiseptic, faint perfume, the underlying metallic tang of new life. And the voices…voices carrying tension, fear, and love.
"You can't keep them, Isobel!"
Rose's tiny fists curled instinctively. The sound carried emotional weight, and she understood it instantly, even in this infant body. She was not yet capable of speech or action, but her mind cataloged every inflection, every hidden intent.
"They are ours, John. Why are you so willing to give them away?"
She felt John Gilbert's anger, resolve, and reason pressing through the words. Then Isobel's sadness, quiet and tender, threading the air with grief.
John's voice softened only slightly. "Not to just anyone. My brother, Grayson, and his wife, Miranda, have been trying for awhile and haven't been able to get pregnant. This is what is best."
Her system pinged, gently reminding her:
[System Advisory: Emotional recognition active. Observe parental conflict closely. Bonding and survival parameters recommended. Fate threads suggest twins' placement is pivotal.]
Isobel's whispered words floated through the room, carrying a sorrow that Rose felt deeply and yet she spoke with a determined command:
"They will take them both… the twins won't be separated."
Even in her fragile, newborn body, Rose felt the threads of fate tighten. She could sense it: the twin she would protect, the other life intertwined with hers, the invisible weight of a story that was already writing itself.
John Gilbert's voice softened further, a quiet promise threading through the tension. "I'll make sure of it."
Rose's tiny chest rose and fell rapidly, her mind grasping the meaning before her body could act. She was so small, yet aware. So defenseless, yet fully conscious of the invisible currents tugging at her soul. She could feel the pressure of destiny in every heartbeat, the faint tug of her powers waiting to awaken.
[System Update:
Emotional resonance recorded.
Psychic vampire conversion potential active. Magical attunement tracking enabled.
Fate threads remain high.
Observe, protect, influence subtly as needed.]
Even now, the crescent moon over her heart glimmered faintly beneath the hospital blanket. A mark of Death's choosing, connecting her across worlds, a reminder that she was Rose, the one chosen to navigate twin destinies.
She curled her tiny fists to her chest, hazel eyes wide and aware. Her heart making the same promise it had in another world.
'I am Rose. I will not fail.'
Somewhere, faintly, threads in another world trembled in response.
The Potter nursery waited, and the next awakening would come.