The forest outside town was quieter than Haruki expected. No cars, no streetlights—just trees and the soft crunch of leaves under his shoes.
Ayame walked ahead, silent, her steps sure like she'd done this a hundred times. The small stone disk she gave him earlier pulsed in his pocket, warm and steady. It almost felt alive.
"Are we close?" Haruki asked, brushing aside a low-hanging branch.
"Almost," Ayame said without turning. "The shrine hides itself unless you have the flame. Now that it's awake in you, it'll let you through."
They moved deeper until the trees began to thin. The air shifted—warmer, heavier—and suddenly, the path opened into a clearing.
At the center stood a shrine, old and half-covered in vines. Moss clung to the stones, but the building itself still stood proud, like time had passed around it, not through it. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the wooden pillars.
Haruki stared. "This is it?"
Ayame nodded. "This is where it all started. The place the fragment has slept for centuries."
Haruki stepped forward. The warmth from the disk in his pocket grew stronger. The flame inside him responded, pulsing with every step.
As they entered the shrine, a soft hum filled the air. Inside was a circular chamber with an altar at the center. Behind it, etched into the stone wall, was a giant mural—warriors holding blades made of flame, standing under a blazing sun.
Haruki walked closer. "These… they look like ninjas."
"They were. Shadow Warriors," Ayame said. "They protected the fragment after it fell here—long before anyone else knew what it was."
Haruki looked down at the altar. A small orb hovered above it, glowing faintly gold. It wasn't hot, but it radiated power. He could feel it in his bones.
"That's a piece of it?" he whispered.
Ayame nodded. "The fragment of the sun. It's what gives our bloodline power. It's what woke up inside you."
Haruki couldn't look away. "So my dad… he had this power too?"
"Yes," Ayame said softly. "And he was one of us. He just chose a different life—for a while."
Haruki clenched his fists. "Then why did he leave? Why disappear?"
Ayame looked away. "That's something I don't fully know. But I think… he found something. Something dangerous. And when he vanished, the others started watching you."
He stared at her. "The people who left that note?"
Ayame's face darkened. "No. Those people aren't watching. They're hunting."
A sharp crack echoed outside.
Both of them froze.
Then the ground shook slightly—barely, but enough to make the orb above the altar flicker.
"They found us," Ayame said, pulling something from her sleeve.
It was a blade—slim, curved, glowing faintly with the same symbol from the disk.
Haruki backed away from the altar, heart racing. "Who are they?"
"The Ashen Circle," she said. "A group that's been after the fragment for years. They use dark tech—twisted energy from stolen flames. If they get this piece…"
She didn't finish.
The shrine doors burst open with a loud slam. Three figures stepped in—faces hidden behind black masks with glowing red eyes. They didn't speak. One of them raised an arm, and something like a pulse cannon spun into shape.
Ayame moved fast. "Stay behind me!"
She launched forward, her blade clashing against the masked intruders. Sparks flew. One attacker fired a shot toward Haruki, but he dove aside, rolling behind a pillar.
The flame inside him stirred—hotter, angrier. His skin tingled again, like it had the night before.
"Ayame!" he shouted. "I… I think it's happening again!"
"Good," she called back. "Then don't hold it in."
Another blast ripped across the floor. Haruki stood up, breathing fast. His arm lit up—the mark glowing red-gold, flickering like fire dancing just beneath the skin.
One of the attackers rushed at him.
Haruki raised his arm on instinct—and a burst of heat shot out.
The masked figure was thrown backward, crashing into the wall.
Haruki stared at his hand, panting. "What… was that?"
Ayame took down the second attacker, flipping over him and slamming her blade down with precision. "That's your power," she said. "Now use it."
The last masked figure hesitated, looking between the two of them. Then, without a word, he tapped something on his arm and vanished into a flash of red light.
Haruki dropped to his knees. His arm still glowed, but it was fading. The warmth lingered, but the burning edge dulled.
Ayame walked over, kneeling beside him. "You did good."
He looked at her. "I don't even know what I'm doing."
"You will," she said. "But tonight was only the beginning."
Another blast ripped across the floor. Haruki stood up, breathing fast. His arm lit up—the mark glowing red-gold, flickering like fire dancing just beneath the skin.
One of the attackers rushed at him.
Haruki raised his arm on instinct—and a burst of heat shot out.
The masked figure was thrown backward, crashing into the wall.
Haruki stared at his hand, panting. "What… was that?"
Ayame took down the second attacker, flipping over him and slamming her blade down with precision. "That's your power," she said. "Now use it."
The last masked figure hesitated, looking between the two of them. Then, without a word, he tapped something on his arm and vanished into a flash of red light.
Haruki dropped to his knees. His arm still glowed, but it was fading. The warmth lingered, but the burning edge dulled.
Ayame walked over, kneeling beside him. "You did good."
He looked at her. "I don't even know what I'm doing."
"You will," she said. "But tonight was
only the beginning."
Next Chapter Teaser – Chapter 11: Whispers of the Ashen Circle
Haruki and Ayame regroup after the attack, but questions grow. Who exactly are the Ashen Circle? Why are they after the fragment? And what was Haruki's father really hiding before he vanished into the shadows?