AN: Still slightly prologue-y. The main use of this chapter is exposition. This girl has issues. Many issues. I will touch upon the reason for her choices and actions in the following chapters themselves, but still, this reveals some of her motivations.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

I sighed. Having all the time in the world didn't mean anything, when all you are in control of is your mind...

Not that my mind didn't need work, mind you. Introspection all the way.

Vivian Blackwood had led an average life, aside from the fact that my parents were alcoholic drunks, before it -eventually- got to far.

I died shielding my younger sister at age 16.

Most of those issues-

I had worked through in my last life.

Alice duPont however, that bottomless can of worms, would take forever to work through.

To call that line -infamous-, it was a bit of an understatement. It was like saying the sea was slightly wet, or the sun somewhat warm.

The duPont Family was, after all, actively practicing the Family Craft.

That is, to bluntly say:

I was reborn to a long line of feared Dark Lords.

Although despite our 'human' nature, the term 'Demon Lord' would probably be a closer term. We were akin to the Antichrist, to make a comparison for one from Vivian's world to understand the context. Including the 'hype around it'.

It was ironic that my second set of parents, tried harder to love and take care of me, than the Blackwoods. They didn't quite succeed in showing that affection, but it's the thought that counts.

No matter how twisted their love, it was nice, and it affected my mind more than I like to thin aboutk.

For the longest time I was isolated from the world that would have hated me, had they known who and what I am. My family might have been 'Evil', but there was nothing quite as thoughtlessly cruel, as those few who fought for the 'Light', who didn't think twice about killing their opposition, hiding behind the banner of 'Righteous Justice'.

They willfully ignored the fact that one half cannot exist without the other, their Utopia but a pipe-dream. True Everlasting Peace is what these 'heroes' sought after. A world without pain and conflict.

Call me cynical, call me jaded, but I am of the opinion the only way that kind of peace could possibly be acquired, is for every last being to either die or be lobotomized.

I treasured my free will a little too much for that.

It didn't get to the point that I was forced to join my family, in taking up arms even though I shared that sacred sentiment that drove them. I don't think it would have ever gotten to that point.

If I were to ever join, it would be out of that very same Free Will.

I could fight, I could kill, but mostly in defense of myself or my comrades. Where I to join, I would likely have to harden my heart and murder innocents. That was a step I was not ready to take.

I was 9 when the 'Hero' succeeded in murdering me and 'saving' the world from my 'corrupting influence'.

And no, my sarcasm isn't over the top at all.

At least my death had been quick this time around.

That had been a quick summary, but there were various other factors that led to the 'bottomless' factor of my can of worms.

To be frank, being reincarnated in this matter once, it's a Cosmic Fluke. For it to happen a second time in a row to the very same soul... It's the beginning of a pattern.

It scared me more than Nana did, and seeing how my tutor had been a mind-flaying tentacle monster with a sadistic streak...

The only 'human' contact I had was my family, and the duo that killed me. The trope: 'Did you just have tea with Chtulu?', would have been more than incredibly appropriate, and the answer to the implied question would have been a befuddled: 'Yes. It's a bit of a surprise though. Normally he comes every day but Tuesday, having other obligations that day.'

And yes, it was quite necessarily to touch upon those half-forgotten tropes. It is amazing how sane I am considering the circumstances, and I didn't want to break my mind even further, by thinking about nothing for the remaining duration of this pregnancy.

Wandering thoughts that lingered on cheesy puns were, after all, thoughts that didn't linger of the fact that I was stuck here, in what might as well amount to a prison where my sense of touch was practically the only one that would get exercised.

Even when forcing myself to think 'Happy Thoughts', pre-life sucked.