He dreamed of sunlight on glass.
A classroom window, half-open, letting in the hum of summer cicadas.A pen tapping against a desk. Students whispering as a middle aged man wrote something on a board.
He remembered being late for class — sprinting down stairs two at a time with his best friend whose face is blurry, a life so ordinary it hurt to think about. No fire, no bloodlines, no ranks — just a world of exams, anime and games.
Then the flash.
Light too bright to look at.A roar that wasn't thunder.Heat surging up his spine — and then nothing but white.
He woke with his heart hammering, breath sharp in his room.
For a long moment he sat there, gripping the edge of the bed, trying to hold on to the fragments before they dissolved. He didn't remember his name from that life, only the feeling: peaceful, small, human.
But there were other flashes too — ones that didn't belong to either life.A horizon of fractured worlds hanging in a void. Towers made of light twisting through clouds of stars. Shapes too vast to have names whispering in a language he almost understood.
Those memories left a taste of nostalgia as if he had seen them for an eternity.
He pressed his palms over his eyes. "What are you showing me?" he whispered.
No answer.
...
Morning crept in pale and gray. He hadn't slept again.
He'd tried speaking to the voice again. No response. No flicker of light. Nothing. As if whatever it was had fallen back into hibernation.
Now, standing by the training courtyard window, he watched his siblings spar below. They moved with effortless grace, their flames swirling in practiced arcs, every strike crackling with power. Each one of them had been born with fire. And he — the only one who hadn't — now suprisingly could not care less.
He turned away. But not before catching sight of Lysander.
His eldest brother trained apart from the others, his aura flaring gold and red. Every swing of his blade left trails of molten light. He was power made flesh — arrogant, beautiful, and untouchable.
Ardyn stood still.
For years, he had told himself he didn't envy Lysander. That he didn't care about ranks or power. But standing here now, something changed as if he was ... not... him? . He didn't need to tell himself anything he could not muster a thought regarding Lysander. As if thinking of anything but himself became an utter waste of effort.
He made his way to the lower gardens — the part of the estate few visited. The air there was cooler, quieter. Statues of the Kael ancestors lined the walkways, their stone gazes stern and judging.
The scent of ash still lingered from last night's ceremony.
He looked down at his hands, then whispered, "System… Eternity Copy, or whatever you are — are you still there?"
Nothing.
He sighed. "Figures."
But then, just as he turned to leave, the air shimmered faintly.
[System Active.]
[Ready for first copy.]
The voice returned — calm, detached, but real. His heart jumped.
"Okay," he whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby. "How… how do I copy something?"
[Proximity required. Target: within ten meters.]
[Command: Observe or Focus.]
He frowned. That wasn't exactly helpful. "Focus on what?"
No answer.
He scanned the garden — trees, flowers, a few mana-flies drifting lazily through the air. The only living thing nearby that was registered by the Mod was
A small flame bird as it hovered near the fountain. A wild ember spirit — harmless, barely sentient. It danced above the water's surface, feeding on the residual energy in the air.
He took a cautious step closer.
"Focus," he murmured.
The world seemed to slow. The air thickened, colors deepening as the small spirit came into sharper focus. For an instant, he could feel it — the flicker of its existence, the heat at its core, the echo of its simple desire to burn.
Then the system's voice returned.
[Target locked.]
[Status copying… 3%... 19%... 64%...]
[Copy complete.]
[Temporary status acquired: Ember Spirit (Lesser). Duration: 00:02:00]
A surge of warmth rushed up his arm.
He gasped — not from pain, but from shock. His veins lit with faint orange light, heat flooding his chest like molten metal. For the first time in his life, he felt flame. Not his family's divine Phoenix fire, but a smaller, rawer spark — wild, chaotic, alive.
His hands trembled. He looked down — faint embers danced across his fingertips.
"Holy—" He broke off with a breathless laugh. "It worked."
He snapped his fingers experimentally. A tiny spark leapt from his thumb, then vanished. The energy was unstable, wild, but real.
[Time remaining: 00:00:54]
He stared at the countdown flickering in the corner of his vision. A minute left. Maybe less.
He clenched his fist, drawing on the heat again. Fire curled around his palm — shaky, flickering, but burning nonetheless.
Then it vanished.
[Copy expired.]
The light drained from his veins. His body sagged with sudden exhaustion, his breath coming short. The fire was gone — every trace of it.
He sank to one knee beside the fountain, grinning like an idiot despite the ache in his chest.
Two minutes. Two minutes of borrowed power, and he'd felt more alive than ever before.
But as the excitement faded, something else caught his attention. The little ember spirit was gone. Not extinguished — gone. The air where it had hovered shimmered faintly, then went still.
"Wait," Ardyn whispered. "What happened to it?"
[Target data fragmented. Source integrity: null.][Warning: Subject termination confirmed.]
His breath caught. "You mean I—"
[Confirmed.]
He stared at the spot where the ember spirit had floated only moments ago. The air was still now, faintly warm, but empty. He hadn't meant to destroy it — hadn't even thought it possible.
[Note: Copy interaction unstable at low Rank levels.]
[Further calibration required.]
The glow in his vision faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the morning. Ardyn let out a slow breath, rubbing his thumb against his palm as if the heat might come back.
"Unstable at low ranks…" he muttered. "So it wasn't just me."
He stood, glanced once more at the fountain, and exhaled. The faint smell of smoke still lingered in the air.
Maybe it was better to leave the testing for later, perhaps when he was not in an open space.
He brushed the dust from his clothes and headed back toward the manor, his mind buzzing. Destroying the targets was... problematic; killing living beings specifically. Just something inside warned him of a price to pay.
Regardless, Ardyn felt something... something warm.