Night fell over Artimia like a shroud.
The stars spilled across the sky in quiet mourning of the horrors that had unfolded below. The wind carried the scent of smoke, of death, of loss too fresh to name. The town—once warm and bustling—was now a graveyard lit by firelight.
At the heart of it all, a massive pyre burned.
Its flames climbed high into the night, licking at the heavens. The heat radiated outward, casting long, broken shadows across the ruins. Around it stood the survivors—what was left of the town.
Families shattered. Children orphaned. Faces streaked in soot and tears. A silence hung over them, heavy and suffocating.
Theo stood among them, his body numb, his eyes hollow.
The fire devoured the dead.
Each crackle was a farewell. Each ember, a name.
He could hear the cries. See the tears. The scent of smoke clung to his skin, but worse than that was the stench of burning bodies—the very souls they'd loved, now consumed by flame.
He stared into the blaze as if searching for something. His parents, maybe. Or the part of himself that had died alongside them.
Memories flooded in—his parents' laughter, his father's quiet strength, his mother's warm touch. The moment of their deaths replayed again and again, tearing at him like claws.
Beside him, Dawn's hand trembled in his grip. She clung to him tightly, tears cutting silent rivers down her cheeks.
"Mama... Papa…" Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile as glass. "Why did this have to happen?"
He didn't answer. Just wrapped his arms around her. Not to comfort. But to hold on. Because if he let go, he didn't know what would be left.
David stood on the other side, eyes fixed on the stars. His glasses hung from one hand. The other wiped at his face, though the tears wouldn't stop.
"Gramps... You were all I had left." His voice cracked. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
Theo placed a hand on his shoulder. There were no words—nothing strong enough to carry the weight they all held. So he didn't try.
Then—
Footsteps.
Soft, steady, calculated.
From the edge of the pyre came Nozomu.
His cloak whispered behind him like smoke trailing a ghost. He stepped into view, stopping at the center of the crowd, just before the flame.
His voice came quiet—but sharp enough to cut through the silence.
"People of Artimia. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nozomu. And I lead the people who saved you today."
He gestured toward the others—Isabella, Evaughn, Pop, Tana—seated on the remnants of a collapsed wall, lit in gold and shadow by the flickering pyre.
"You've all seen what the God-King and his Section Commanders are capable of. And what he's willing to do to keep you afraid. I know you're grieving. I know tonight feels like the end of the world."
He let the silence breathe.
"But I came here to ask you one question."
A stir rippled through the crowd.
Nozomu's gaze swept across their faces—hollow-eyed, bloodied, silent.
"Will you let it be? ...Tonight, I stand before you as an invitation."
Isabella stood abruptly. "What the hell is he doing?" she hissed. She made to storm forward, but Evaughn placed a calm hand on her arm.
"Let him talk," he said. "Let's see what happens, shall we?"
"...Fine," Isabella fumed, backing down.
Back by the fire, Theo barely blinked. Nozomu's voice was sharping. It was the only sound he could hear.
"You've seen the power of the God-King—and just how powerless you are against it."
He pointed toward the debris of fallen buildings around them.
"But today, you also saw something else. You saw that they can be hurt. My comrades and I have the means to fight back."
A low murmur rippled through the crowd—first like a breeze, then a storm.
"You're insane," someone spat under their breath.
"He's right! It's the God-King we're talking about!"
"Don't listen to him—he just wants more of us dead!"
"He's trying to start a war!"
The voices layered, rising in panic, outrage, fear.
But Nozomu didn't flinch.
He stood as if the noise couldn't touch him. As if every word thrown his way passed through him like wind through a ghost.
Like he'd already heard it all before—and had chosen, long ago, not to care.
"Two carriages will be waiting at the edge of town when the sun rises. One will take you to safety—to a place where you can hide, rebuild, pretend this never happened."
The murmurs began to cease.
"The other will take you with us."
The hush that followed was absolute.
"So," he began, slow and steady, "as you stand here… watching the fire take what's left of them—"
Theo's stomach turned. His hands curled into fists at his sides. The smoke stung his eyes, but the pain went deeper than that.
The flames reached for the night sky, casting shadows that looked far too human.
"If you had the chance to change this world… would you take it? Not for yourself. But for the ones you lost today."
The silence was heavy. A silence filled with shattered dreams, unanswered prayers, and the memory of people who weren't coming back.
And somewhere inside that silence…
A spark caught fire.
"We can't bring back those you lost. But we can make sure they weren't taken for nothing."
Nozomu looked toward the blaze.
"So ask yourself this… not what you're willing to die for—but what you're willing to live for. What will you do for those you still have left to protect?"
Then he stepped back, saying nothing more. Isabella stormed up to him, seething.
"You couldn't wait until morning? They're grieving. Can't you see that?"
"No. It couldn't wait. Not when the fire's still hot. They need to remember what was taken."
He walked past her, quiet once more.
The fire roared on.
Theo didn't speak. He just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Hoping for shapes to form in the fire. But there were none. Just smoke. Just ash.
Slowly, the crowd thinned. People vanished into tents. Under broken roofs. Behind fallen beams. The sobs grew fewer. The wind whispered again.
But Theo didn't leave.
He stayed by the fire until it was only embers.
Until it stopped roaring.
Until it only breathed.
His knees finally gave out, and he sank into the dirt, arms wrapped around his legs. His eyes didn't cry anymore. They just watched.
And in the quiet, one voice rose.
Live... Live and change this world.
His father's words.
Theo bowed his head, a silent promise digging into his chest like a blade. He clenched his fists. Sat there until his body stopped shivering.
Until nothing hurt except everything.
Eventually, the sun came.
It didn't feel warm.
Ash still drifted in the wind like snow.
Artimia was broken.
Theo stepped through the ruins of his home. The walls were scorched. The windows cracked. Nothing remained but fragments of a life.
He packed what little he found.
Then—
A sound.
A flash of black fur launched into his arms.
"Mimi...!"
The cat meowed and buried herself in his chest. Shaking.
"You're safe…" Theo whispered. "I thought I lost you too."
He held her like she was the only real thing left.
And maybe she was.
The only piece of family he had left.
Theo stood by the doorway, Mimi still curled in his arms. Her little heart beat fast against his chest, like she knew.
"I'm going away for a while, Mimi," he muttered, stroking the top of her head. "Don't know for how long."
His throat tightened.
"And Mom and Dad… they're not coming back."
The words hurt more when said out loud.
He pulled her a little closer.
"But you don't have to worry, okay? I'll find you a good home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere better."
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you two," Theo whispered, his fingers tightening around the doorframe. "But I'm gonna get stronger. I swear it."
He stepped outside.
The wind met him like a ghost—soft, cold, brushing against his skin like it remembered everything that happened.
And there they were.
Dawn and David, standing in the morning light, bags slung over their shoulders—like they'd been waiting for him all along.
"Guys…" Theo started, his voice low, uncertain. "I'm joining Nozomu and the others. I know you're probably gonna try and talk me out of it, but—"
"Who said we'd stop you?" Dawn spoke softly.
David snorted. "Seriously? You think we would let you run off and play hero without us?"
Theo could only stare. They weren't joking.
"We're in this together," Dawn said. "We've already lost too much. We're not losing you, too."
David adjusted his glasses. "Besides, who else is gonna keep your dumb ass alive?"
Theo smiled.
It wasn't big. It wasn't loud. But it was real.
In his arms, Mimi wriggled, then sprang down with a soft thump—padding straight into Dawn's.
"Well," she chuckled through a sniff, "I guess that's her answer."
Theo managed a breath of laughter. Small. Thin. Fleeting.
"Thanks," he whispered, glancing between the two of them. "For everything."
David sighed dramatically, then pulled Theo into a headlock that somehow morphed into a sideways hug.
"Damn, you're hopeless," he muttered. "I don't need you crying again and make me look bad."
Theo grunted, squirming. "You were crying like a river last night!"
David's voice softened just enough to let the real part sneak through.
"Yeah, I was... But enough of the sappy stuff... We're in this together... Like always, right?"
David hooked his other arm around Dawn and yanked her in too.
They stood there—just the three of them and Mimi, pressed together in the ruins of everything they'd lost.
No words.
No pretending it didn't still hurt.
It didn't undo the pain.
Didn't bring back the dead.
But it helped them stand. They were alive. They still had each other.
And sometimes, that was enough.
The sting behind Theo's eyes rose quick, sharp and bitter—but this time, it didn't win.
He turned slowly.
His gaze found the place that used to be home.
Now it was just blackened wood and a shell of memories. The walls were caved in, windows shattered. The kind of silence that settled into the cracks after everything else had broken.
It didn't feel like peace.
It felt like absence.
David shifted his bag higher on his back. "We should go. It's almost time."
Theo didn't speak. He just nodded once.
Then the three of them turned—step by step—toward the edge of town.
Toward whatever came next.
The road ahead stretched out under the early morning sky—cracked, uneven, and littered with the ashes of yesterday.
But they walked it anyway.
Shoulders brushing. Bags swaying. Hearts still aching.
Behind them, the wind picked up—cool and restless—tugging at their sleeves, like it didn't want them to leave.
Like it still had more to say.
But Theo didn't turn back.
Not anymore.
Wherever the road led, whatever was waiting…
He would face it.
Together or alone.
And this time—
He'd be ready.