Takashi stood in a desolate wasteland. His form had changed—his reflection in the surrounding flames showed a twisted, inhuman version of himself. His body was cloaked in black flames, relentless and consuming. He resembled an Ashwalker, a human-looking creature known to bear different types of flames, but this version of himself was terrifying. He felt detached, as though he no longer had control over the flames or his body.
All around him, members of the Crimson Collective screamed in agony, their bodies reduced to ash by the flames. They begged for mercy, but Takashi felt nothing—no sympathy, no regret—only emptiness. His black flames burned everything in sight, and no matter how hard they fought, nothing survived.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him shifted, and he found himself falling into a pool of blood. He struggled to swim through the thick, viscous liquid, but it pulled him deeper, suffocating him. As he sunk further, a massive figure began to rise from the depths—a figure with horns, towering and ominous wearing a sinister smile on its face.
Although he couldn't see it's face well, his instincts told him it was Amon, the demon king.
Takashi's heart raced as Amon's glowing eyes fixated on him. The demon's presence weighed heavily on his soul, a suffocating dread overtaking him as the creature's form became clearer. Amon opened his mouth to try and eat him. But before he could bite him, Takashi jolted awake.
Panting heavily, Takashi sat up, drenched in sweat. His hands trembled as he glanced around the dimly lit room. His small apartment was silent, far too different from the nightmare he'd just escaped. He wiped his brow and muttered to himself, "Seems like I slept on the couch again."
The vividness of the dream left him shaken, but there was no time to dwell on it. He had to go to school and pretend like nothing had happened, as if he wasn't being hunted by his own fears, by the unknown power he now possessed.
He splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake off the memory of Amon's gaze. But no matter how much he tried, the nightmare clung to him, a constant reminder of what had been awakened inside him.
Takashi entered the school gates, his mind clouded by exhaustion. He tried to blend into the flow of students, acting like any other teenager going about their day. But the weight of his encounter with the Crimson Collective, the black flames, and now the vivid nightmare, made it hard to focus.
As the first class started, Takashi found himself zoning out, staring blankly at the window. His thoughts were jumbled, his mind trapped between the memory of last night and the dream of Amon. He could still feel the heat of the black flames, their endless hunger for destruction.
"You look like you slept well." a voice said sarcastically.
The voice broke his trance. Takashi turned to see Sato Rin, his class captain, standing by his desk. Her bright, pink hair caught the morning light, and she looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"I'm Sato Rin", she said, introducing herself to Takashi.
Takashi sighed. "I know your name, Rin."
Rin raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Oh, I didn't realize. You don't talk much and always act like you don't care, so I thought you didn't know my name."
Takashi frowned, slightly annoyed but too tired to argue. Izumi had always been popular and confident, the kind of person who was hard to ignore. But right now, he wasn't in the mood for conversation.
"You seem off today," she continued, leaning in a bit. "Like you've been through something rough."
He froze for a moment, the memory of last night flickering in his mind. "I'm fine," he said, a little too quickly.
Izumi shrugged, not pushing the issue. She turned to leave but then paused. "By the way, we have a class meeting later. Don't be late."
As she walked off, Takashi felt an unusual warmth linger in the air. He narrowed his eyes—pink flames. Izumi possessed the Flames of Love, a powerful ability that could make people fall in love with her and bend their will to her desires. It wasn't a flame he trusted, especially after what he had seen last night.
He clenched his fists under the desk. Was everyone hiding flames? If his class captain had such powers, how many others were out there? How many more would he have to face?
One thing was certain—the black flames that now burned within him were a mystery, even to himself. But he had a sinking feeling that they were far more dangerous than anything he'd encountered so far.
Takashi wasn't particularly excited about the class meeting, but he figured he should attend, if only to get through the day like any other. With a sigh, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and started walking towards the auditorium. No rush, no pressure—just something to do.
However, on his way to the auditorium, a familiar voice cut through the hallway.
"Oi, Ren! Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with Igarashi Kazuki and his lackeys. Igarashi's signature smirk was plastered across his face as he cracked his knuckles, his white flames subtly flickering at the tips of his fingers.
"Ren," Igarashi began, his voice low and threatening, "why don't you follow us to the rooftop? We've got something to discuss."
Takashi's shoulders tensed and he felt a lump form in his throat. He knew he was no match for Igarashi and his gang, but refusing would only make things worse. Without a word, he nodded and followed them through the empty hallways, up the stairs, and out onto the rooftop.
As they reached the top, Igarashi wasted no time. He cracked his knuckles, his transparent flames glowing brighter. "So, Ren," he began, circling Takashi like a predator, "still no powers, huh? You know, I've always wondered how it feels to be so… useless."
One of the lackeys laughed. "Maybe he's just broken. No flames at his age? Pathetic."
Takashi's fists clenched, but he stayed silent. The insults weren't new; they were part of his everyday life. Igarashi had always targeted him because of his lack of power. Now, more than ever, Takashi wished he could just walk away—but he knew that wasn't an option.
Takashi, who normally stayed quiet, had had enough. He balled his fists, ready for a fight. "I don't need powers to deal with you," he shot back, stepping forward.
Kazuki's transparent flames flickered, shimmering in the air around his eyes, indicating his future sight ability was active. Without warning, Igarashi swung a punch at Takashi. He dodged the first blow but wasn't fast enough to avoid the second. A sharp pain shot through his gut as Igarashi's fist connected, knocking the wind out of him. Takashi crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.
Sitting on the cold rooftop, clutching his stomach, he could feel the familiar wave of despair washing over him. He was powerless, always had been. The dream of awakening his powers, of joining the Radiant Order, had long since faded.
Igarashi stood over him, laughing. "Look at you. Some people just aren't meant to have power. You should accept that."
Takashi's vision blurred with frustration. But as he sat there, something stirred inside him—something dark, something hot. His anger, frustration, and helplessness all seemed to ignite at once. His heart pounded, and suddenly, he felt it.
A surge of heat erupted from his chest, and before he knew it, black flames shot out from his hands, engulfing Igarashi's lackey who had been standing closest.
As one of Igarashi lackey approached takashi, he screamed.
"AHHHHH!" the lackey screamed, frantically trying to put out the flames. "What the hell is this?!"
Igarashi and the other lackey froze in shock, their eyes widening at the sight of the black flames. They tried to use their own flames to smother it, but nothing worked. The black flames consumed everything they touched, burning fiercer by the second.
"What kind of flames are those?!" Igarashi shouted, stepping back in fear.
Takashi, still on his knees, stared at the chaos he had caused. He hadn't meant to do it. The flames—his flames—had just burst out. But now, seeing the panic and fear in their eyes, he knew he had to do something before it spiraled out of control.
"You're a monster!" one of the lackeys cries, backing away in horror.
Takashi's heart races. He knows if these flames aren't stopped, the Radiant Order will be on him. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing as he felt the black flames roaring inside him. They were unlike anything he'd ever experienced, but somehow, he felt an eerie connection to them, like they were part of him. Concentrating, he fought to control the chaotic energy.
He wasn't good at using his flames yet. After all, he'd only awakened them recently, whereas most children typically unlocked their powers at the age of eight. Growing up, Takashi had dreamed of joining the Radiant Order, standing alongside those with powerful flames who protected the world. But when it was time for his powers to emerge, nothing happened.
A year passed, and still, nothing. He'd told himself he was just a late bloomer, but eventually, he began to lose hope. The father figure who raised him at the orphanage had once shared an old story with him about firefighters who saved people without any powers.
"Why are you telling me this, you stinky old man?" Takashi had asked, annoyed at the time.
"Because you remind me of my granddaughter," the father had replied.
"What happened to her?" Takashi had asked curiously.
The father's face grew solemn. "She was killed by the Crimson Collective." There was sadness in his voice, and Takashi had quickly apologized, feeling guilty.
The father had waved him off. "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault."
That story had inspired Takashi to start learning martial arts, hoping to make up for his lack of powers. For a while, it gave him a sense of purpose. But everything changed when he was thirteen. He came back to the orphanage one day and learned that the father had been killed in a sudden ashwalker attack. From that moment, Takashi gave up on his dreams.
Back to the present:
Takashi asked himself why he was remembering all of this now. Maybe it was because he was afraid of losing control of these black flames. He focused harder, trying to calm them. To his surprise, the flames began to fade, and within seconds, they were gone.
He smiled faintly, whispering, "Thanks, Gramps. Even after you're gone, you're still helping me."
After the fight, Takashi and the bullies went to the school nurse. She used her white healing flames on him, treating the bruises and burns. But when she saw the more serious burns on Kazuki's lackey, she became suspicious. "What happened here?" she asked, looking between the boys.
Kazuki and his lackeys hesitated before one of them nervously explained the events. "There were black flames… his flames… they wouldn't go out."
"Hmm," the nurse said after listening, her voice skeptical. "You expect me to believe black flames exist? Please, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable." She glanced at Takashi's roughed-up appearance. "It's obvious you were bullying him for money and you got greedy amongst yourselves and attacked each other, thinking you could take more than the other instead of you to just be satisfied. The nurse shook her head in disappointment, crossing her arms. "Un, un. No shred of loyalty," she said, her voice laced with disapproval.
"You'll be writing an apology letter for this." She said.
The bullies stammered, trying to defend themselves, but the nurse wouldn't hear it. "Come back with that letter, or I'm reporting this to the principal. Got it? "Hmm, kids these days" she said in a tone that indicated that she was annoyed.
Once they left, the nurse turned to Takashi, her eyes softening. "If they try to bully you again, come to me," she said, but Takashi knew he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. The fear in Igarashi's eyes had been real.
As Takashi left the nurse's office and walked towards the school gate, he muttered to himself, "What a day..."
Then, with a flat expression, he realized, "I never even went to the class meeting..." Shrugging, he continued on his way, the weight of his awakening still fresh on his mind. "Oh well, I'm qsure it'll be fine."