In this world, Aura is the dormant Energy within every living being, hidden deep inside until it is awakened through a harrowing trial known as the Hell Trial. The amount of Aura a person possesses depends on their bloodline, natural talent, and spirit. Nobles typically have greater reserves, but every human has the potential to awaken it.
The Hell Trial is a transformative, personal ordeal where an individual must confront their deepest fears and darkest regrets. The experience reshapes the body and mind, leading to a Rebirth—the moment when Aura is unlocked and can be controlled. Those who survive become Awakened, able to use their Aura for spellcasting, creating weapons, or enhancing physical abilities. However, failing the trial results in permanent mental or physical damage, sometimes leaving the individual in a vegetative state.
Once awakened, individuals gain incredible power, but this comes with fear and respect from others. Awakened people live separately from common folk, forming their own society. Their abilities can be enhanced through intense training or a second trial called Reawakening, but failure carries grave consequences Infact Very few have even attemped this trial.
Aura is not just a source of Power; it reflects the person's soul, and controlling it requires facing their most terrifying inner struggles.
Chapter 1: The Beginning of the Flame
Sakuchi was no stranger to pain. He had been born into a family without a name, without power. His father, Saiken, a man of humility and honor, had struggled to make ends meet. His mother, Riku, had done her best, but her affection had always been divided, especially after the royal visit that had sealed their fate. Sakuchi had been the eldest of five siblings, and though they had known hardship, they had been a family—until the night everything changed.
5 Years Earlier —
Sakuchi lay in his small, cramped room, the air thick with the scent of must and sweat. His siblings were strewn across the floor, sleeping soundly despite the oppressive heat. The world outside was dark, the only sounds the distant hum of the city and the occasional howl of the wind. He closed his eyes, trying to drift into a dreamless sleep.
But then, a sound shattered the quiet.
Crash.
A loud shattering of glass echoed through the house, followed by muffled voices. Sakuchi's heart skipped a beat. He knew that sound—someone had broken in. He stayed frozen, barely daring to breathe. The house was small, cramped, and had no real defenses. His family had never been important enough for protection.
Then came the unmistakable sound of his father's voice, shaky but firm, pleading with someone.
"Please, I didn't mean to offend you. I beg you, don't do this—"
Sakuchi's blood ran cold. A noble. He had heard about them—the royals who held power over lives, whose whims could destroy families. His father had angered one of them earlier that day, a royal who didn't take kindly to slights.
There was a long silence, followed by the sound of a heavy footstep. Then, the voice again—this time, cold and mocking.
"You should have known your place, old pal."
Sakuchi's father let out a strangled gasp, and Sakuchi's heart clenched. He wanted to rush out there, to stop whatever was happening, but his body was frozen. Fear held him in place.
The door to his room suddenly slammed open, and the figure of a nobleman stepped into the room, his eyes gleaming with contempt. The man's robes were fine silk, and a crown rested on his head, marking him as royalty. Sakuchi felt a chill run down his spine.
"You," the royal sneered, looking at the sleeping siblings. " These peasants will do well as slaves."
Sakuchi could only watch, his throat tight as the royal walked over to each of his siblings, dragging them from the floor one by one. He took them without hesitation, without a second thought. Slaves. His family, reduced to nothing more than property.
But then the royal paused at Sakuchi. He looked him over, his gaze assessing.
"You," the noble said, his lips curling into a cruel smile, "you're too old to be retrained. A waste."
He turned and walked out of the room, his laughter echoing in the night.
Sakuchi's heart pounded in his chest as the door slammed shut behind the royal. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. His mind screamed at him, but his body didn't respond.
And then, the sound that would haunt him forever. His father's desperate cries.
The royal had returned to his father, and a single, chillingly sharp sound filled the house—a slice.
Sakuchi's heart stopped.
His father's voice choked out in a gurgle of blood. The royal had slit his throat, and the blood pooled on the floor like a silent river. The royal's cold laugh echoed in the background, growing fainter as he walked away.
And then—nothing.
Sakuchi couldn't bring himself to move. He couldn't even look away as his father's body fell to the ground, lifeless. His mind tried to grasp what had just happened, but it was too much to process. His father was dead. And in that moment, everything shattered inside him.
For weeks, his mind refused to acknowledge the truth. He told himself that his father had died of natural causes, that his siblings had simply gone to live with their uncle. He buried the memory so deep within himself that it stayed hidden in the dark corners of his mind, like a dream he could never fully recall. His mother's harsh words—how she wished it had been him who had been taken—only added to the confusion.
He pushed it all away. He had to.
But then, everything changed when he was fourteen.
Sakuchi stood in the town square, trying to ignore the bitter thoughts that clouded his mind. The day had been a long one, filled with menial tasks and the weight of survival pressing down on him. But then, he felt it—a rush of air, followed by a sudden pain in his head.
The impact was like nothing he had ever felt before. He stumbled backward, his vision blurring. He had been struck by something.
A noble, no less.
Sakuchi looked up through blurry eyes, finding himself face to face with a royal man, his expression full of disdain.
"How dare you ignore me," the royal sneered, his hand still raised from the spell that had hit Sakuchi in the head. "You should know your place."
Lost in thought Sakuchi hadn't realized a noble had spoken to him but it was to late Sakuchi's body trembled as the world spun around him, his head thumping with the force of the strike. And then, something broke inside him. A surge of pain—no, not just pain. Memories.
Suddenly, the truth flooded back like a tidal wave. He remembered everything. His father's death. The royal's face. His siblings. The grief, the loss, the horror.
Sakuchi stumbled home, his vision blurry from the blow to his head. The world felt like it was spinning around him as he dragged himself through the narrow streets of the impoverished district, each step heavier than the last. His thoughts were fractured, his head pounding in rhythm with his heartbeat. His mother's words echoed in his mind—how she'd always hated him for not being taken by the royal. How she wished he had been the one to die that night.
The pain in his head intensified with every step. It was too much. Too much to remember. Too much to handle.
When he finally reached the door, he barely had the strength to lift his hand to knock. The door creaked open, revealing his mother standing inside, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw him.
What happened to you? she demanded, her voice trembling.
But Sakuchi couldn't answer. He could barely comprehend the words coming from her. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor, his body bruised and battered from the blow.
Without a second thought, his mother screamed, her Anger boiling over. The hysteria in her voice was like a distant echo. She rushed over to him, dragging him into the house and throwing him onto the floor.
"Why can't you be stronger?!" she yelled. "Why can't you be better?!"
Her hands struck him without mercy, each blow punctuated by her irrational cries. She raged at him for things he didn't even understand, blaming him for the death of his father and the fate of his siblings.
Sakuchi could barely lift his arms to protect himself. The pain was unbearable, but he had no strength left to fight back. Her hands struck his face, his chest, his arms, until his skin was black and blue. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one more painful than the last.
Eventually, she grew quiet, as if realizing what she was doing. She stared at him for a long time, the weight of her actions hitting her all at once. Then, with a shaking hand, she let him fall into unconsciousness, leaving him bloodied and broken on the cold floor.
The last thing he remembered was the sting of her hand against his skin as the world around him faded into darkness.
Sakuchi awoke in a place unlike any he had ever seen. The world around him was a void, suffocating and endless. There was no sky, no ground, no horizon—only a swirling blackness that seemed to hum with a strange, oppressive energy. He tried to move, but his body felt heavy, as if chains were dragging him down.
The air was alive with whispers. They clawed at his ears, faint at first, but growing louder with every second. The words were unintelligible, but they carried a weight that pressed down on his soul. His heart pounded as he realized he was not alone.
Suddenly, the whispers stopped. A single, distorted voice echoed through the void, deep and resonant, shaking him to his core.
"Face your past, Sakuchi."
The void shifted. Shadows began to swirl and coalesce, taking on forms that made Sakuchi's breath hitch. Before him stood a grotesque, monstrous figure, its shape twisting and writhing as if it couldn't decide what it wanted to be. Its face—if it could be called a face—was a horrifying amalgamation of his father's lifeless eyes and the mocking sneer of the royal who had taken everything from him.
"You cannot hide from what you are," the voice boomed. "Your soul is fractured, your regrets unending. Overcome them, or be consumed."
The ground beneath his feet—if it could even be called ground—shattered like glass, and he plummeted into a new nightmare.
The Trial Begins
Sakuchi landed hard, the air knocked from his lungs. He looked up and froze. He was standing in his childhood home. The cramped walls, the wooden floors, the faint smell of his mother's cooking—it was all as he remembered. But something was wrong.
The house was silent, deathly silent. A cold dread crept over him as he stepped forward, his bare feet echoing on the wooden planks.
"Hello?" His voice cracked.
A faint sound came from the next room—a soft, wet squelching noise. He hesitated, every instinct screaming at him to turn back, but his legs moved on their own.
He pushed open the door and stumbled back in horror. His father, Saiken, was kneeling in the center of the room, his throat gaping open, blood pouring out in an endless stream. His father's lifeless eyes turned to meet Sakuchi's, and yet his body *moved*.
"S-Sakuchi…" the corpse rasped, its voice gurgling with blood. "Why didn't you save us?"
Sakuchi staggered back, his chest tight with panic. "No… this isn't real. This isn't real!"
But the scene only grew worse. The walls warped, stretching and twisting as his siblings appeared, their small bodies bound in chains. They looked just as they had the night they were taken, their eyes hollow, their faces pale.
"Why did you let them take us?" Mimi whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. "Why weren't you strong enough?"
Their words hit him like a physical blow, each accusation cutting deeper than the last.
Before Sakuchi could respond, the room erupted into flames. The twisted forms of his family began to shift, their bodies elongating and warping into monstrous shapes. Saiken grew taller, his limbs stretching unnaturally, his face contorting into something demonic. His siblings' chains melted into their flesh, and their eyes burned with an otherworldly red light.
They lunged at him.
Sakuchi barely had time to react. He threw himself to the side as his father's clawed hand swiped through the air, tearing a chunk out of the wooden wall. His siblings surrounded him, their movements unnaturally fast, their voices a chorus of pain and accusation.
"You let us die," Ryota hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You left us to rot!"
Sakuchi's heart pounded as he scrambled backward, his mind racing. He had no weapons, no magic—nothing. He was powerless.
The monsters cornered him, their grotesque faces inches from his own. His father's massive, clawed hand grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The heat of the flames around them was unbearable, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating guilt and fear that crushed him from within.
"Why should you live when we had to die?" Saiken growled, his voice echoing with demonic rage.
Sakuchi's vision blurred as the lack of air and the weight of his emotions overwhelmed him. He wanted to give up, to let the darkness take him.
But then, a spark.
Deep within his chest, something stirred. A warmth, faint but persistent. It grew stronger, burning brighter, until it exploded outward in a surge of violet light.
Sakuchi screamed as the power coursed through him, his body igniting with flames of his own. The purple fire engulfed him, burning away the claws that held him and forcing the monsters to recoil.
He landed on the ground, his breath ragged, his body trembling. The flames danced around him, responding to his will.
The monsters roared, charging at him once more, but this time, Sakuchi was ready. He thrust his hand forward, and a torrent of purple fire erupted, consuming his father's demonic form. The flames didn't just burn—they *obliterated*, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.
His siblings attacked next, their movements erratic and unpredictable, but Sakuchi's newfound power gave him the edge. He fought with everything he had, his flames carving through the darkness. Each strike was filled with his pain, his anger, his regret.
"You are not real!" he shouted, his voice echoing with defiance. "You are not my family!"
One by one, the monsters fell, their forms disintegrating into nothingness.
As the last of the monsters faded, the void around him began to collapse. The oppressive darkness gave way to light, and Sakuchi found himself standing in the center of a vast, glowing expanse.
The voice from before returned, softer now. "You have faced your past and survived. Rise, Sakuchi, and claim your power."
The warmth within him flared, and he felt his body change. The pain and exhaustion melted away, replaced by strength and clarity. The purple flames that had saved him now flowed through him, a part of his very being.
In the real world, six days had passed.
Sakuchi's mother sat in a near-catatonic state, her eyes red from crying. She had tried everything to wake him up, but nothing worked. Her son—her only remaining child—lay there, unmoving, his body cold to the touch. The pulse that had once throbbed beneath his skin had faded completely. She couldn't understand it.
He had been fine before. He had been angry, yes, but that was normal for him. He had been hit, yes, but that was normal for their life. What had happened to him?
Her mind spiraled out of control. She was *losing him*. The thought terrified her.
She tried to shake him, to call his name, but he didn't respond. He didn't even *breathe* in a way that made sense. He was lifeless. His body was still, cold, his heartbeat nowhere to be found.
And that's when the guilt set in.
Had she done this to him? Had her hands, her words, her cruelty finally pushed him to the edge? She thought of everything she had done to him—beating him, blaming him, wishing him dead in place of his siblings—and her chest clenched with a deep, unbearable shame. Was he truly gone? Had she killed him?
Tears welled in her eyes, and she wept like she had never wept before, whispering his name over and over. *Sakuchi... my son... please wake up.*
Sakuchi's pulse returned. His heart began to beat again, slow and steady. His mother's sobs echoed in his ears, but this time, they were soft, distant. His eyes fluttered open, his body stiff from six days of sleep.
But he was alive.
He had conquered his past, his fears, and the demons that had haunted him for so long. And now, the world would know the true power of Sakuchi.
The Flame in his Heart had been reawakened.