Chapter: Rain and Rebirth**
All through the night, the rain never stopped.
Thunder rumbled in the distance like a slumbering beast growling in its dreams, while the graveyard remained deathly silent, as if the entire world were mourning someone.
Serena Elton stood still before a gravestone long weathered by wind and rain, her figure blurred in the curtain of water. The name etched into the stone was one she no longer dared to whisper—**vilia Elton**. Her mother's name. The golden lettering had been all but washed away by rain and grime.
How long had she been standing there? Minutes? Hours? Perhaps longer.
The drops sliding down her cheeks—were they rain or tears? She couldn't tell anymore.
Her black mourning dress was soaked through, clinging heavily to her body, but she didn't move. She couldn't move.
Her father had fled the night before the war began, like a coward.
Her only brother, once her only pillar of strength, had been forced onto the battlefield under the crushing weight of their family's name—and never returned.
And now… her mother was gone too.
Everything was gone.
"I'm all alone now," Serena thought. "I couldn't even save Mother..."
Lightning tore through the night sky, and in that brief burst of light, her pale face was revealed—
In the next moment, sunlight filtered through the cracks in the curtains, casting golden flecks upon the carpet.
Serena Elton slowly opened her eyes, her gaze calm and clear. In her eyes—pink like cherry quartz—seemed to shimmer a whole sunrise. Her soft golden hair curled in loose, sleep-tousled waves.
Her fingers twitched slightly, confirming she was still in this small, familiar body.
She was five years old now.
It had been two years since her rebirth. The moment she awoke at age three with the memories of her past life, she understood—if she wanted to change her fate, she had to act early.
This time, she wouldn't lose her family again.
She slipped out of bed, her tiny feet landing softly on the plush carpet. After slipping into her shoes, she pulled open the door and walked toward a familiar figure.
"Good morning, Uncle Miles."
She looked up, offering a sweet, well-behaved smile.
"Good morning, little miss." The man, well past fifty, bowed slightly with a warm smile. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Yes, very well." Serena nodded, and as usual, accompanied him toward the garden. She played the role of an intelligent, precocious child perfectly, yet all the while, she watched his reactions closely.
Her tone was light, almost casual: "Father's been spending a lot of time alone lately. He doesn't talk much anymore... Is he troubled by something?"
Miles faltered slightly in his step, quickly recovering: "The master is very busy these days. He's probably just tired."
"Is that so..." Serena nodded thoughtfully, her voice dropping into a soft whisper, tinged with unease. "...He's not going to leave us too, is he?"
The words struck like a nail hammered into Miles' heart. He turned to look into her clear eyes—eyes that shimmered with worry far beyond her years—and felt a pang in his chest.
She was far too perceptive. Far too grown up.
"He won't." His tone was firm, more so than usual. "I will always be here for you, Miss Serena."
"Okay." She gently took his hand, her voice soft as a breeze. "Thank you, Uncle Miles. Can I talk to you often, from now on?"
He lowered his gaze and smiled. "Always, little miss."
She lowered her lashes, concealing the glint of coldness in her eyes.
—She knew. Her father was already planning to leave. He intended to abandon everything, including her and her brother.
And she had to act first—she had to make sure her brother took the place that rightfully belonged to him.
Later, Miles left to attend to some errands, and Serena sat alone on a bench in the garden, a small picture book cradled in her hands.
It was a story about how the Empire was founded with the blessings of the elves.
But she wasn't turning the pages.
She was gazing up at the sky, her expression far too focused for a child of five.
Sunlight spilled over her face, casting delicate shadows beneath her lashes. She suddenly reached out, tracing shapes in the air with her fingers—perhaps a calculation, or maybe a memory.
"If elves truly exist in this world... could it be they who brought me to this other one?" she murmured to herself. Only when the gardener passed by behind the flowerbeds did she realize she had spoken aloud.
The gardener gave her a startled glance. She quickly lowered her hand and flashed a bright smile. "I'm just playing."
—Yes. This was a different era.
Serena looked down, pushing those tangled memories back into the depths of her mind, her gaze turning somber.
She remembered it all clearly.
After her death in her previous life, her soul hadn't dissipated. Instead, it had drifted into another world.
A world of towering skyscrapers, iron beasts soari