The rain pierced the cracked earth like silver needles. Nan Song stood in the center of the city ruins. She didn't know when the black robe she was wearing was blown by the strong wind and made a rustling sound.

She looked down at her pale fingers, which were wrapped with dark golden threads that looked like blood vessels, flickering with her breathing.

"Outsider, have you seen it?"

When a strange and deep voice sounded, Nan Song felt his skull resonating.

This was not a sound wave transmitted through the air, but a low hum that vibrated directly in the depths of her brain.

She looked up at the sky and saw countless space cracks like glass fragments suspended in the rain, each crack reflecting a different scene of destruction.

She listened in confusion, not knowing how she should react.

"I..."

The vocal cords seemed to be glued together by rust, and the syllables uttered were immediately dissolved by the rain.

She didn't know why, it was just a question, but she heard a tremendous rage in it, yet she endured it to the extreme, as if she had the ability to turn the world upside down with a single thought but was suppressing it with all her might.

The black cloth on the cart suddenly moved without wind, revealing the transparent containers piled up underneath - balls of light of various colors were floating inside, hitting the walls of the containers like imprisoned fireflies.

The world began to fold before her eyes.

The skyscrapers are like building blocks pushed over by children, but in the process of collapse they turn into butterflies flying all over the sky.

Nan Song felt cold fingers reaching into her throat, not from the outside, but groping from inside her esophagus outwards.

In the moment before she suffocated, she heard the sound of fabric tearing.

Warmth suddenly enveloped my whole body.

Nan Song found himself lying in a sea of ​​clouds. These clouds had the texture of silk but exuded the scent of sandalwood.

Her black robe turned into a gauze dress studded with stars, and the cart transformed into a translucent crystal tree with the containers hanging from its branches.

"Arisa, I have a deal."

The sound was as clear as glacial meltwater. Nan Song turned and saw a young man emerging from the clouds—no, that couldn't be called a young man, more like a human figure molded from moonlight and mist.

Its outline is constantly evaporating and reorganizing, but the cinnabar mole under the left eye remains clear.

Nansong felt the corners of his mouth rise uncontrollably, and a laugh that didn't belong to him rolled out of his throat:

"Dear Dilin, after thirty-two rainy seasons, the cleft between your eyebrows has deepened."

Her fingers automatically raised up, drawing a dark red track in the air.

"What do you want to pawn this time? Your eyes that can see through the veins of time? Or your ears that can hear the whispers of all things?"

The moonlight figure began to tremble violently, and the mist that made up its body kept disintegrating and condensing.

"You know why I came."

Its voice suddenly took on the hoarseness of metallic friction.

"I want to trade my innate talent, 'Sweet Rain'. Ever since awakening my innate ability in Emerald Canyon, I've never had peace."

The branches of the crystal tree suddenly grew wildly, pushing several containers in front of Nan Song.

Through the wall, she saw fragments of memory emerging from inside:

Blood splatters behind the fleeing moonlight in the desert, wolves tear at a shimmering body in the dark forest, and a giant metal bird circles over a clifftop city...

"Look at the delicious despair."

Nansong heard himself sigh in ecstasy, and his fingers stroked the surface of the container.

"But you know the rules. Arisa only trades acquired things. Talents that are imprinted on one's soul..."

Her nails suddenly grew longer and pierced into one of the containers.

"It's like trying to peel a rainbow out of rain."

Its body suddenly solidified, and Nan Song could see the horrific wounds all over her tattered cloak - those scars were opening and closing on their own, like countless small mouths screaming silently.

"I voluntarily remove the soul brand!"

Dilin grabbed the bronze compass hanging on his chest,

"Can't I use this as a medium? The Black Forest ranger gave it to me..."

"A compass for calming ghosts?"

Nansong felt his pupils suddenly shrink into vertical lines.

"No wonder you're still alive.

It turns out that he has long regarded you as a family member worthy of entrusting his life to.

But dear, don't you understand yet?

The clouds were suddenly dyed blood red.

But that spirited voice sounded again:

"I want to trade my natural ability, I'm really tired of this life of wandering around.

I've been to so many places, canyons, deserts, cliff cities... Every place makes me feel exhausted."

Dilin's voice was full of helplessness and sadness, as if it had experienced countless hardships.

It continues:

“Also, I couldn’t stay in any place for very long.

The few friends I did have had to leave the Dark Forest because of me.

Now, I don’t know where he is.”

Dilin's voice gradually choked up. At that moment, he seemed to remember the moment when he parted with his friend, and his heart was filled with pain and reluctance.

"And I can only survive and continue to wander in this world.

I know I won't survive this time. So, please... please..."

Dilin's words were suddenly interrupted, as if his throat was blocked by something and he couldn't utter another word.

Nansong listened quietly to Dilin's story. Her voice was still lazy, but it revealed a hint of indifference.

“God has gifted you with such powerful abilities, but has forgotten to give you strong enough defenses to protect yourself.

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