Through the endless sea of destruction, Kael stirred from his slumber.
The stench of smoke and burnt flesh filled his lungs as he opened his eyes.
The world around him was nothing but ruin—ash, shattered buildings, blackened corpses.
Kael slowly sat up, eyes wide in horror.
"What... have I done?"
His voice trembled into the void. His hands shook uncontrollably, fear and self-hatred clawing at his chest.
He clutched his head, lowering it between his knees, a raw, broken shout escaping from deep within his soul.
But amidst the chaos and guilt, a single thought struck him like lightning.
Elara.
"Elara, where are you? Please... please be safe!"
He forced himself to believe that she had survived. Forced himself to hope.
But deep down, in the core of his being... Kael knew the truth.
He had killed her too.
He tried to stand, but every fiber of his body screamed in agony.
The skin on his wrists and thighs was scorched, torn, and blistered—his own flames had ravaged him just as they had everything else.
"Move, damn it!" Kael roared through gritted teeth.
"My own body... so useless.
But I have to find her...
I have to take her home!"
Somehow, fueled by desperation, Kael staggered to his feet.
What greeted him was a nightmare:
A wasteland of twisted metal and charred stone.
The slums—his home—gone.
Burnt corpses littered the ground, too disfigured to be recognized.
No faces. No voices. No life.
Kael stumbled forward, each step an agony.
He scanned the ruins, praying for a miracle he knew would not come.
And then—he saw it.
The body of a beastkin, scorched beyond recognition.
And near it... a flash of color against the blackened earth.
A scrap of red cloth.
Tattered. Burnt at the edges.
Elara's scarf.
The last piece of her.
The moment he recognized it, Kael's world shattered completely.
"No..." he whispered.
"No, no, no..."
He collapsed beside it, his cries tearing through the desolate night.
He wept like a child, broken and alone.
There was no one left to hear him. No one left to save him.
Only ashes.
After what felt like an eternity, Kael's sobs faded into quiet, hollow breathing.
He stared blankly at the sky, eyes void of light.
"This world... it never gave me anything," he thought bitterly.
"Only pain. Only suffering. Loneliness. Emptiness.
It steals everything that's dear to me..."
"Kindness... hope... people like Elara... they're used and discarded like garbage."
His fists clenched until his nails drew blood.
"This world deserves to burn," he whispered.
"I'll set fire to it all... and from the ashes, a new world will rise."
"A world born from wrath."
He carefully picked up the torn scarf and wrapped it around his neck.
It was all he had left of her.
His violet eyes, once tired and soft, now burned with the fury of a thousand storms.
Suddenly—
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Footsteps echoed across the ruined streets.
Kael stiffened, turning toward the sound.
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint blue light of the broken moon.
He wore a grim smile on his face, casual and cold, as if the destruction around him was nothing but an amusing spectacle.
"How're you doing?" the stranger said with a smirk.
"Long time no see."
Kael's blood ran cold.
He stood frozen, heart hammering in his chest.
It was as if death itself had come to greet him.
To be continued.....