My Instant Death Doomed Firefly to a Lifetime of Regret

The wind howled through the desolate valley, painting the world in endless white.

"Doesn't anyone else feel something's… off?" March 7th blinked, icy gusts slapping her face.

"Anming's missing." Dan Heng stated flatly. They'd descended together, yet he'd vanished mid-plummet.

March facepalmed. "Great. Our 'epoch-shattering hero' got Thanos-snapped before the opening act. Miss you already, Lao Ming!"

Stelle hefted her bat, glaring at nearby Fragmentum creatures with unearned confidence. "Wait—what if we lose?" March yanked her back, signaling Dan Heng to showcase his seniority.

Then March slipped, planting face-first into a snowdrift.

As March flailed, Stelle smirked. "Simple. I'll shatter epochs." Her bat crackled with Stellaron energy, channels of Destruction blazing. She chanted:

"Youth knew hardship, yet my bat parts the heavens!"

"Unseen Destruction DPS, self-made epoch-breaker!"

"Restore physics' glory, elbow March and Anming!"

"Today my bat smites Fragmentum, rules be damned!"

—The Bat Deity!

Stelle raised her weapon. "Rules… exist to be broken! Taste my Destruction Sky-Splitter!"

"CRAP! No Physical Weakness! MARCH, SAVE ME—!"

"..."

March stared at her like she'd grown a third head. This team was doomed.

Dan Heng sighed, skewering the wind-weak enemies with Cloud Piercer, salvaging their first combat encounter.

"Phew…" Stelle wiped imaginary sweat. "We're awesome!"

"Ugh, I miss Anming already." March bonked Stelle's head. At least he could back up his chuuni claims.

Three steps later, a wriggling snow pile blocked their path. Stelle frowned, bat raised:

"Monster, taste your Star Grandpa's bat!"

Meanwhile, Anming freefell through subzero skies, frost coating his body. Is this how the Amber Lord rewards his loyal concrete-pourers?!

Gripping Nightless, muscle memory took over. Three sword slashes erupted downward, their recoil slowing his descent. He landed like a wuxia protagonist—graceful, extra, and utterly impractical (March's future roast: "Peak Main Character Syndrome").

Brushing off snow, he scanned for the crew—only to lock eyes with a silver-haired girl gaping at him like he'd descended from celestia.

"Bronya-Three-Turbine-Duck-Duck?"

Anming adored Bronya's four-syllable name—a linguistic masterpiece. (Take notes, "Blade" from the Stellaron Hunters.)

Bronya stood frozen. Moments earlier, she'd prayed to Preservation at the Everwinter Monument: "If the Amber Lord still protects Belobog… show me the path!"

Then a comet streaked from swirling clouds—a sword-wielding youth who sliced the sky with moonlit grace.

An Aeon's envoy?

"Hi!" Anming waved. "Astral Express Nameless, Anming."

"Nameless…" Bronya steadied herself. "Welcome to Beloborg, honored guest."

"Got signal here?" Anming glared at his dead-zoned phone. No texts to Silver Wolf. No crew coordinates. Solo survival mode: activated.

"Signal returns outside the Monument's interference," Bronya explained, leading him stiffly.

As they exited the zone, his phone exploded with messages—crew panic and a certain Stellaron Hunter's concerned texts.

Priorities clear, Anming opened Silver Wolf's chat first.

[Windblade:] Alive?

[Silver Wolf:] ???

[Silver Wolf:] You ghosted me for 3 hours.

[Silver Wolf:] Answer or I'll hack the planet's heating system.

Anming smiled. Some things never changed.