The rain had stopped just ten minutes ago.
But the alley still stank of rust, garbage, and human sweat. Water pooled near the gutter, mixing with old oil and newer blood. A half-broken neon sign buzzed overhead, flickering its final light like a dying star.
Raiyan lay in the dirt.
Face down.
Still breathing. Barely.
His hoodie was soaked through. The fabric clung to his skin like wet paper. One hand twitched slightly. The other rested uselessly over his gut, where the knife had gone in.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times.
Even in the blur of pain and adrenaline, he had counted. Each stab sharper than the last. Each one colder. Cleaner. Almost mechanical, like the man had done it before.
There were no footsteps behind him now. No voices. Just the lingering echo of the mugger's last words:
"Should've handed it over the first time, dumbass."
Raiyan didn't reply. Couldn't.
He'd been trying to scream, at first. Then crawl. Then breathe.
Now?
All he could do was think.
So this is what it's like... dying.
It wasn't as dramatic as he expected. No flashes. No tunnel of light. Just… a growing numbness, like he was falling asleep from the inside out. His fingers had gone cold. His toes too. His thoughts floated, loose and jumbled, between memory and fading awareness.
Faces. Mostly.
A teacher who'd once said he had potential.
A classmate who stole his notebook but gave it back with corrections.
A woman at the soup stall who'd always given him extra broth.
His life hadn't been special.
But it hadn't been worthless either.
I was getting somewhere, he thought bitterly. A few more weeks, and I would've passed that exam. Gotten out of this shithole.
He coughed. Blood ran down his cheek. The pain in his chest was dull now. It felt far away, like it belonged to someone else.
"I don't… want to die…"
The words were a whisper.
A mistake.
He should've kept them in.
Because the moment he spoke them aloud, something stirred.
A sound—not quite a voice, not quite a machine—echoed inside his skull.
> ❖ SYSTEM BOOTING...
> Host Confirmed: Raiyan Sol
> Vital Status: Critical
> Soul Anchor: Active
> Emergency Protocol Engaged...
> Initializing Core Transfer...
"What…"
> ❖ DEATH DETECTED
> Initiating Rebirth Sequence
> Realm of Transfer: \[Myria - Fractured Layer]
> Memory Retention: Partial
> Unique Trait Eligibility: GRANTED
> Welcome, Broken Soul.
And then—
Nothing.
No pain.
No light.
Just... the end.
The next breath he took wasn't shallow.
It was deep. Cold. And sharp—like winter air had filled his lungs.
He sat up suddenly, coughing, gasping like a man who'd been underwater for days. His chest heaved. He blinked against harsh light.
But there was no sun.
Just a strange sky above, shifting slowly between red and gold. Two moons hung there, one cracked like shattered porcelain. The other pulsed with soft white light.
Wherever he was... it wasn't Earth.
The grass beneath his fingers shimmered faintly, like it was alive. Tiny motes of light drifted in the air, hovering lazily like dandelion seeds. Towering trees rose in the distance—dark, ancient things with bark that reflected stars.
And then came the screen.
A floating, translucent rectangle of light, glowing just a meter from his face.
> ❖ WELCOME TO MYRIA
> Host: Raiyan Sol
> Body Status: Compatible
> Race: Unknown (Unawakened)
> Class: Unassigned
> Stats: Locked
> Bloodline: Dormant
> System Sync: 39%...
"…What the hell," Raiyan muttered, staring. His voice was steady, but his hands trembled. "What is this… a dream?"
Another window appeared instantly.
> ❖ CHOOSE YOUR STARTING TRAIT:
> [1] Predator's Instinct
> — "Sense weakness. Devour strength."
> — + Combat awareness
> — + Energy absorption after kills
> [2] Soul Memory
> — "Your past life refuses to be forgotten."
> — + Retains certain physical and mental skills
> — + Resistance to soul damage
> [3] System's Blessing
> — "Marked by the Architect."
> — + Faster level gains
> — + ??? effect unlocked at 50% Sync
Raiyan stared.
Longer this time.
Because now… it was clicking.
The transfer. The system. The screen. The choices.
This wasn't a hallucination.
It wasn't the dream of a dying man.
It was real.
He wasn't on Earth anymore. He wasn't in a dirty alley bleeding out. He had been—*moved*. Pulled. Dragged across worlds.
*Another world... with a system.*
And somehow… he was alive.
Reborn.
But not just reincarnated like some fairy tale. No blessings from gods. No overpowered cheat skills dropped into his lap.
He felt weak.
But sharp.
Raw.
Like a blade being reforged.
"I don't know who brought me here…" he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "But I'm not dying again. Not in this life."
He reached out toward the screen. Toward his choice.
And with quiet conviction—
He picked.