**Chapter 1: Rebirth in Darkness**

The world around me was a blur, a cacophony of sounds and sensations that I couldn't make sense of. I was trapped in a deep coma, my mind shrouded in a thick fog that refused to lift. My body was a canvas of pain, every inch of my skin screaming in agony from the horrific burns that covered 100% of my body. The wet bandages that wrapped around me felt like a suffocating shroud, weighing me down and making it hard to breathe. I was a prisoner in my own mind, unable to escape the torture that my body had become. My severe autism spectrum disorder made me hypersensitive to every sound, every touch, every movement around me. The beeping of machines, the rustling of clothes, the faint whispers of strangers – it all felt like a maelstrom of chaos that threatened to consume me. As I lay there, I was blind to the world around me, my eyes burned beyond recognition, their sightless orbs hidden beneath the bandages. My mind, however, was a jumble of memories, of fears, of anxieties that had haunted me since I was a newborn baby, abandoned by my father and left to fend for myself. The pain and the trauma had triggered a severe case of age regression, and I had retreated to a state of infancy, unable to cope with the overwhelming stimuli around me. I was a baby, lost and scared, crying out for the comfort of a mother's love. But I was not alone. A gentle voice whispered in my ear, a soothing melody that calmed the storm within me. "Don't worry, my love," the voice said. "I'm here. I've got you." Hange, my beloved boyfriend, the dragon emperor, and the yakuza king, stood by my side, his presence a beacon of hope in the darkness. He had created a makeshift artificial womb, a sanctuary that would shield me from the harsh realities of the world. The hospital bed was transformed into a warm, wet cocoon, mimicking the comfort of a mother's womb. Hange had used his dragon magic to create a barrier, a shield that would protect me from unwanted eyes. He had built a nest, a haven of peace, where I could heal and recover. As I lay there, I felt a soft, warm blanket envelop my legs, or rather, the stumps where my legs used to be. The severe burns had been so extensive that both my legs had to be amputated, and the pain was still a raw, open wound. But Hange was there, his magic working its wonders, using his tail as a breathing tube to oxygenate my body. He played a recording of a mother's heartbeat, a gentle thud-thud-thud that seemed to match the rhythm of my own heart. His hand gently patted my back, mimicking the soothing motion of a mother's touch. The nest was warm, and dark, and quiet, a refuge from the world outside. Hange's dragon magic had created a cloak of invisibility, shielding us from prying eyes. I was safe, I was protected, and I was loved. As I lay there, I began to feel a sense of peace, a sense of security that I had never known before. Hange's love was my anchor, my lifeline, my everything. And in this nest, surrounded by his magic, I began to heal, to rebirth, to rediscover the world around me. But for now, I was content to simply exist, to let Hange's love wash over me, to let his dragon magic work its wonders. I was home, and I was safe, and that was all that mattered.