Dominik's world was engulfed in a storm of excruciating pain and darkness. Bound tightly in the damp, suffocating grip of an underground chamber, he was trapped on the cold, unyielding stone floor. Each agonized scream he forced from his throat, "Make it stop! Make it stop!" seemed to ricochet off the walls, swallowed by the oppressive silence that smothered his cries. The intensity of the pain was maddening, a relentless inferno scorching through his veins, each breath a tortured struggle against the overwhelming heat that pressed down upon him like a stifling blanket.
As he writhed in agony, the room around him felt like it was closing in, the walls seeming to shift and contort with his suffering. The heat was unbearable, wrapping around him in a fiery embrace that seemed to consume every shred of his sanity. His entire body was wracked with tremors, each convulsion amplifying the searing pain that made him question if he would ever escape this infernal torment.
Without warning, reality shifted violently. Dominik's eyes flew open, his body drenched in sweat and trembling uncontrollably. He was no longer in that nightmarish chamber but confined to a sterile, unfamiliar room. His limbs were tightly secured to a bed, and the sudden, sharp prick of a needle injecting cold liquid into his arm made him gasp. The icy chill of the medication clashed violently with the residual heat still burning inside him, heightening his disorientation.
Panic surged through him with a desperate urgency as he struggled against his restraints. The room was bathed in a dim, unsettling light, and fragmented voices reached his ears—urgent and muffled. One voice cried out in a frenzy, "The room is catching on fire, we need to stop it…" before fading into a haze of confusion. Dominik's heart pounded in his chest, his mind reeling as he fought against the disorienting fog that threatened to pull him under once more.
When he woke again, the room was silent except for the soft hum of machinery. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and he saw his grandfather sitting in a chair beside the bed, looking utterly exhausted.
"Grandfather?" Dominik's voice was weak and hoarse.
His grandfather's eyes snapped open, and he leaned forward, a look of relief washing over his face. "How are you feeling, Dominik?"
"Where are we?" Dominik asked, glancing around the room. There were no windows, and the walls were made of cold, unyielding stone. It felt like he was underground.
"We're underneath Stonehenge at the moment," his grandfather replied.
Dominik's mind raced. "What happened?"
"You've been out for two days now," his grandfather said, his voice heavy with fatigue. "You burned down the entire training hall and collapsed. When we tried to treat you in the healing quarters, you set the place on fire despite being unconscious. We managed to control it before anyone was seriously injured, but Aqua and Master Saif sustained some burns. We had to bring you here to prevent any further accidents."
Dominik's eyes widened in disbelief as his grandfather's words sank in.
The horror of the situation hit him like a physical blow. Dominik's breath caught in his throat, and he looked down at his blistered arms, the raw skin a testament to the devastation he had caused. "So... so I'm a monster," he whispered, his voice trembling with despair. The words were barely audible, yet they echoed with the profound shame and guilt he felt. Tears sprang to his eyes as he choked out, "How can we stop it? Please, make it go away. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want this power."
His plea came out as a ragged chant, his voice cracking with raw emotion. His body convulsed uncontrollably, and he vomited blood, the sheer weight of his anguish overwhelming him. The realization that he could be a danger to those he cared about drove him to the brink of madness.
His words turned into a frantic chant, his body convulsing as he vomited blood. His grandfather held him down, calling out for Master Saul.
Master Saul rushed in, quickly administering another injection to calm Dominik. The boy's body relaxed, the tension easing as he slipped back into a state of semi-consciousness.
Master Saul sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't think it would be this bad. The boy is in a lot of pain. I think his psychomental abilities are aggravating his condition."
"What do you suggest we do?" Dominik's grandfather asked, his voice laced with desperation.
"Only his father could help him control his fire. He was the best at it," Master Saul said thoughtfully. "I think you should send him to Fetaine. He was his father's confidante and almost as skilled in controlling fire. We can't help him here; none of us specialize in fire control."
"You read my mind," his grandfather replied, nodding. "We'll leave as soon as he calms down."
"By the way, Igor and Wes are back," Master Saul added. "I want Aqua, Igor, and Wes to go with him."
His grandfather nodded again. "It'll be a good opportunity for them to prepare for the consignment. I hope we find someone specialized in psychomental abilities soon."
"Let's hope for the best," Master Saul said, his voice somber.
Dominik drifted in and out of consciousness, his mind a fog of pain and confusion. He barely registered the conversations around him, only catching fragments. His grandfather's voice was a constant, a soothing presence in the midst of his turmoil.