Rain hammered the city in relentless sheets, a metallic rhythm that blurred neon signs into smears of light. Xiao Ranyu hunched his shoulders against the cold, every breath a fading wisp in the downpour. His shoes squelched with every step, socks soaked, bones aching. Another shift done—too many hours for too little pay. Tomorrow's bills were already gnawing at the edge of his thoughts.
Then—
A flash of red.
A ball bounced into the street, trailing ripples through shallow puddles.
A little girl, maybe six, darted after it—arms outstretched, unaware of the headlights slicing through the rain.
Ranyu's heart seized.
Instinct overrode thought.
He ran.
The cold sliced through his jacket, feet slipping on slick pavement. Horns blared. Tires shrieked. The world tunneled into a single, brutal instant—just him, the girl, and the wall of light racing toward them.
He reached her in a desperate lunge, arms wrapping around her tiny body.
Her eyes met his—wide, frightened, trusting.
And for one heartbeat, he saw himself reflected there—not just tired or worn out—but human, and alive.
Then—
Impact.
A roar of metal and pain.
Then silence.
He floated, untethered. No sky, no street, just a gray vastness that stretched forever. His body was gone, his thoughts slow, slurred, bleeding into the void.
Somewhere far away, someone was crying.
Rain tapped softly, mournfully, on invisible skin.
"So this is it," he thought. "At least… I did something right."
Darkness curled around him, thick and final.
But then—
A flicker of light. Not white and sterile like hospital lamps, but golden, warm, alive. It pulsed with something older than time, drawing him in like breath into lungs.
Suddenly, he felt again—sensation rushing back like a flood. But his body was wrong—too small, too soft. Even the air burned as it filled lungs that didn't yet belong to him.
A voice, trembling with joy, wrapped around him like a lullaby:
"He'll be named Ranyu… my youngest flame…"
Memories slammed into him—two lives crashing together. Concrete and steel. Crimson banners and incense. A world gone quiet, replaced by a low hum of power vibrating beneath his skin.
His eyes fluttered open.
A grand chamber. Crimson silk. A blurred face smiling down. Eyes unfamiliar but kind.
And deep inside—
Click.
Ding!
[System initialized. Sign-In Protocol active. Soul synchronization complete. Welcome, Xiao Ranyu.]
His breath hitched.
"System…?"
The word didn't pass his lips. It existed more in thought than sound.
[At your service. Ask, and you shall receive.]
The voice was dry. Unemotional. But it echoed with the weight of something ancient.
Was this real?
He tried to move. Tiny hands. Paper-thin skin. He barely managed to curl his fingers around his mother's.
The air shimmered.
He could feel it—threads of something electric, coiling through the space. Dou Qi. Like stepping into the pages of a half-remembered tale.
A name surfaced from memory, cutting through the haze like lightning:
Xiao Yan.
The prodigy. The exile. The future Flame Emperor.
Ranyu froze.
He was in Battle Through the Heavens. Not watching. Not dreaming.
He was in it. Reborn as a Xiao, kin to the boy who would one day burn the sky itself.
He almost laughed.
Of all the worlds to land in… At least here, power mattered.
Across the chamber, a toddler stood silently. Barely steady on his feet. Black eyes, deep and watchful. Too knowing.
On his finger, a black ring glinted.
Ranyu's eyes narrowed.
Yao Lao…
Ding!
[Sign-In Opportunity detected: Yao Chen (Soul Fragment, Dormant). Proceed?]
His heart pounded. A newborn's heartbeat—fragile, yet undeniably his.
He hesitated.
The ring. The name. The weight of what it meant. Was it right to take from a man who hadn't yet begun his fall?
But the doubt died quickly. There were no guarantees in this world. Power wasn't optional—it was the price of survival.
If he hesitated, he'd die a second time.
And no one would be there to catch him.
Yes.
Heat surged through him—not burning, but awakening. Symbols seared behind his eyelids, flowing like fire through his bones. His tiny body trembled in his mother's arms.
No announcements.
No skill cards.
Only knowledge—raw and whispering—seeding itself inside him.
A flicker of something curled in his chest. Not flame. Not yet.
But close.
He gasped softly, fists clenched. Something had changed.
Eternal Flame Vessel…
He didn't understand it. Not fully.
But he could feel the difference.
Fire didn't burn. It welcomed him. The world suddenly shimmered brighter, sharper. Like every spark held a promise.
Across the room, Xiao Yan stared at him. Not with affection. Not yet.
But with curiosity.
Or was it unease?
Their mother laughed, brushing a damp lock from Ranyu's brow.
"Don't worry, Yan'er. He's strong, this one. You'll have to protect him."
Yan didn't reply.
He just watched.
Like someone sensing a storm before it breaks.
Ranyu closed his eyes.
He was no longer a man drowning in rain.
He was something else now—a spark in a world built on flame.
And this time…
He would choose who he became.