[WP] Reincarnation has been proven, but you are reborn in the country that you died in. This prompts massive traveling for the elderly. You are someone about to die and desperately trying against all odds to get to the country that you want to be born in before you die. By LEO Part 3

Part 3 Reincarnation

Every parent wants their child to be original.

I don’t mean original like a piano player, or a baseball star, or a poet. I mean original. A brand new soul, one untarnished by past lives. Fresh.

But it doesn’t always happen. In fact, as birth rates and death rates have leveled off, original children have become quite rare. It had been known for centuries that originals were much more likely to be born to couples of passion, whose love ran hot with desire, and a stale baby born into a family could sew doubt in even the most content of couples. It’s not unheard of babies who remember their past lives to fake originality, trying to please their new parents, hiding their past lives behind faux innocence and ignorance.

Even in countries where the death rate far outstripped the birth rate, however, originals have been known to randomly pop into the population. And this posed a problem for Carcer.

Should an original child slip into the prison, only to be raised and murdered in a horrific accident, the public outcry would be deafening. The prison would be shut down, its officials relocated to the inmate side of prisons to pay their own sentences. So babies on Carsus were not made the natural way that babies had been made for millennia. But rather, they were made by machines, in test tubes and incubators controlled by the cold hand of science. With no passion, and no chance for originality.

So when I opened my eyes for the first time to the harsh lab lighting, and breathed my first breath of latex and disinfectant, I knew that I had arrived on Carsus. Not intellectually, no- I had yet to build the mental capabilities to form thought, let alone words - but instinctively I had a feeling. A satisfaction comparable at that time to only the basest of human desires, like sipping from a bottle of warm milk. The machines above me knew that I had arrived too- had I been able to read, I would have seen my name displayed across the incubator monitor as the machine read my first breath, the one most potent with soul, followed only by the last breath.

And despite the bravado in the courtroom, and the confidence over the phone with Marco, baby me knew the feeling that I had tightly wrapped confidence around to cover up. And baby me screamed.

For most people, memory recovery is slow. It starts off young through feelings and instincts, and gradually blossoms into full memories. Some people are better than it than others, and can recall the entirety of their past life by age five. They still have to relearn speech, and writing, and math by developing the necessary neural pathways for these skills but there’s an underlying intuition underneath that will spur them along, molding their body to fit their soul.

But the secret that I had carefully kept throughout my sixty five lives, the secret that propelled me to the height of criminal organizations throughout the centuries, was my ability to recall. By two months, I could remember my entire past life. By four months, I could remember the three before lives that. And by four years my memory stretched back to my very first life, to a set of memories that would have been washed away by the waves of reincarnation in the average man by ten cycles.

And because of this skill, I could manipulate reincarnation like no one else I had ever met.

If I was dealt a bad hand and born into a family too impoverished, or found my body type deformed, or my mind’s processor too slow, I could always restart within nine months. That plump new baby would find a way to turn the stove on so that natural gas filled the house, or roll down the flight of stairs that should have been gated, or sneak into the household bleach. And that new baby would be no more, a vessel discarded in light of a newer model. Like trading in a Honda for a Corvette.

But now, as I stared upwards in the incubator, my neck muscles not yet strong enough to turn my head and my eyes not developed enough to discern the shapes above, I knew I had one chance. There would be no discarding the hand - there was no time, and the entire Carsus facility was certified for class three death clearance.

There was no choice but to play fair. I’d have to make it out of this one alive.

Part 4: https://www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/3ve2y0/wp_reincarnation_has_been_proven_but_you_are/