Night fell over Artimia like a shroud.

The stars spilled across the sky in quiet mourning, their light trembling against the smoke that still clawed at the heavens.

The wind carried the scent of ruin—ash, blood, and loss too raw to name.

The town that once pulsed with life was now a graveyard lit by firelight.

At its center, a pyre burned high enough to challenge the stars.

Its flames roared like a heartbeat that refused to die, casting long, broken shadows across the remains of what had been home.

Theo stood among the living dead—eyes hollow, heart heavy, watching as the fire devoured everything that once gave his world meaning.

Each crackle was a name.

Each ember, a farewell.

The scent of smoke clung to his skin, but worse than that was the stench of burning bodies—the very souls they'd loved, now consumed by flame.

He stared into the blaze as if searching for something.

His parents, maybe.

Or the part of himself that had died alongside them.

Memories flooded in—his parents' laughter, his father's quiet strength, his mother's warm touch. 

The moment of their deaths replayed again and again, tearing at him like claws.

Beside him, Dawn's hand trembled in his grip.

She clung to him tightly, tears cutting silent rivers down her cheeks.

"Mama... Papa…" Her voice was fragile as glass. "Why did this have to happen?"

Theo had no answer.

He could only wrap his arms around her.

To comfort, yes, but more so to hold on.

Because if Theo let go, who knew what would be left?

David stood on the other side, eyes fixed on the stars.

His glasses hung from one hand.

The other wiped at his face, though the tears wouldn't stop.

"Gramps... You were all I had left..."

Theo placed a hand on David's shoulder.

There were no words—nothing strong enough to carry the weight they all held. 

From the edge of the pyre came footsteps.

Soft, steady, calculated.

It was Nozomu—his cloak whispered behind him like smoke trailing a ghost. 

He stepped into view, stopping at the center of the crowd, just before the flame.

"People of Artimia. I go by Nozomu, and these four here are my comrades."

He gestured toward the others—Pop, Tana, Isabella, and Evaughn—seated on the remnants of a collapsed wall, lit in gold and shadow by the flickering pyre.

"I know you're grieving. I know it might feel like it's the end of the world. But now you've all seen what the God-King and his Section Commanders are capable of. You've all seen what they're willing to do to keep you oppressed."

He let the silence breathe.

"I want to ask you all a question."

A stir rippled through the crowd.

Nozomu's gaze swept across their faces—hollow-eyed, bloodied, silent.

"Will you let it be?"

Isabella stood abruptly. "What is he doing?" she hissed.

She stormed forward, but Evaughn placed a calm hand on her arm.

"Let's see what happens, shall we?"

"...Fine," Isabella fumed, backing down.

Back by the fire, Theo barely blinked.

Nozomu's voice was sharp. It was the only sound he could hear.

"Today, you saw just how powerless you are."

Nozomu pointed toward the debris of fallen buildings around them.

"But today, you also witnessed something else. You saw a battle won. That my comrades and I have the means to fight back. So, tonight, I stand before you as an invitation to join our cause."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd—first like a breeze, then a storm.

"You're insane," someone spat under their breath.

"He's right! It's the God-King we're talking about!"

"Don't listen to him—he just wants more of us dead!"

The voices layered, rising in panic, outrage, fear.

But Nozomu didn't flinch.

He stood as if the noise couldn't touch him. 

As if every word thrown his way passed through him like wind through a ghost.

Like he'd already heard it all before—and had chosen, long ago, not to care.

"At sunrise, two carriages will be waiting at the edge of town. One will take you to a place where you can rebuild. Pretend this never happened."

The murmurs began to cease.

"The other will take you with us."

The hush that followed was absolute.

"So," he began, slow and steady, "as you stand here… watching your loved ones burn—answer me this."

Theo's stomach turned.

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

The smoke pinched his eyes, but the pain went deeper than that. 

"If you had the chance to change this world… would you take it? Not for yourself. But for the ones you lost today."

Nozomu's words were heavy.

They hit hard.

Stung, even.

The crowd simmered—now forced to face the truth.

 All they had left were shattered dreams, unanswered prayers, and the memory of people who would never return.

But somewhere inside Nozomu's cold approach—a spark caught fire.

"Grief buries the dead. Resolve carries the living. We can't bring back those you lost. But we can make sure their lives lost weren't for nothing."

Nozomu looked toward the blaze.

"So ask yourself this… not what you're willing to die for—but what you're willing to live for. What will you do for those you still have left to protect? Because if you do nothing, tomorrow they'll burn as well."

He stepped back, saying nothing more.

Isabella stormed up to him, seething.

"You couldn't wait until morning?"

"No. I couldn't. Not when the fire's still hot."

"Nozomu, they don't need fire—they need air to breathe."

"Maybe so—but they need to remember this moment. Remember what they took from them."

He walked past her, quiet once more.

The fire roared on.

Theo stood there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hoping for shapes to step out of the fire.

He'd wake up, and this entire nightmare would vanish.

Poof. Go away.

However, sadly, there were none.

Just smoke, ash, and death. 

Sad.

Slowly, the crowd thinned.

People vanished into tents.

Under broken roofs.

Behind fallen beams. 

The sobs grew fewer.

The wind whispered again.

But Theo didn't leave.

He stayed by the fire until it was only embers.

Until it stopped roaring.

Until it only breathed.

His knees finally gave out, and he sank into the dirt, arms wrapped around his legs. 

His eyes didn't cry anymore.

They just watched.

And from the quiet of his mind, one voice rose—his father's voice.

Live—And change this world.

Theo bowed his head, a silent promise digging into his chest like a blade. 

"How am I supposed to do that...?"

He clenched his fists—lying there until his body stopped shivering.

Until nothing hurts except everything.

Eventually, the sun came.

But it didn't feel warm. 

Ash still drifted in the wind like snow. 

Artimia had fallen.

Theo stepped through the ruins of his home.

The walls were scorched.

The windows cracked.

Nothing remained but fragments of a life once lived.

He packed what little he found.

Then a flash of black launched into his arms.

"Mimi...!"

The cat meowed and buried herself in his chest.

"You're safe…" Theo whispered. "I thought I lost you, too."

He held her like she was the only real thing left.

And maybe she was.

The only piece of family he had left.

Theo stood by the doorway, Mimi still curled in his arms.

Her little heart beat fast against his chest, like she knew.

"I'm going away for a while. Don't know for how long," Theo muttered, stroking the top of her head. "...Mom and Dad… they're not coming back."

The words hurt more when said out loud.

Theo pulled her a little closer.

"I'll find you a good home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere better."

His fingers tightened around the doorframe.

"Mom. Dad. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. But I'm gonna get stronger. I swear it."

He stepped outside.

The wind met him like a ghost—soft, cold, brushing against his skin like it remembered everything that happened.

To his surprise—there they were—Dawn and David, standing in the morning light, bags slung over their shoulders—like they'd been waiting hours for him.

"Guys… I'm joining Nozomu and the others. I know you're probably gonna try and talk me out of it, but—"

"Who said we'd stop you?" Dawn interrupted softly.

"Seriously? You think we would let you run off and play hero without us?" David snorted.

Theo could only stare. They weren't joking.

"We're in this together," Dawn said. "We've already lost too much. We're not losing each other, too."

David adjusted his glasses. "Besides, who else is gonna keep you out of trouble?"

Theo smiled.

It wasn't big.

It wasn't loud.

But it was real.

In his arms, Mimi wriggled, then sprang down with a soft thump—padding straight into Dawn's.

"Well," she chuckled through a sniff, "I guess I'm her answer, huh?"

Theo managed a breath of laughter. 

"Thanks, you two," he whispered, glancing between both of them. "For everything."

David sighed dramatically, then pulled Theo into a headlock that somehow morphed into a sideways hug.

"Damn, you're hopeless. I don't need you crying again."

Theo grunted, squirming. "You were bawling your eyes out with me."

"Yeah, yeah," David replied, hooking his other arm around Dawn. 

They stood there—just the three of them and Mimi, pressed together in the ruins of everything they'd lost.

No words.

No more pretending it didn't hurt.

It didn't undo the pain.

Didn't bring back the dead. 

But it helped them stand.

They were alive. 

They still had each other.

And that was enough.

The sting behind Theo's eyes rose quickly, sharply, and bitterly—but this time, it didn't win. 

He turned slowly. His gaze found the place that used to be home.

Now it was just blackened wood and a shell of memories. 

The kind of silence that settled into the cracks after everything else had broken.

It didn't feel like peace.

It felt like an absence.

David shifted his bag higher on his back.

"We should go. It's almost time."

Then the three of them turned—step by step—toward the edge of town.

Toward whatever came next.

The road stretched beyond the ruins, cracked and uneven, littered with the ashes of yesterday.

Theo looked back one last time.

The skeleton of his hometown still smoldered behind him—blackened wood, shattered glass, silence too deep for comfort.

He exhaled, the ache in his chest hardening into something new—something that almost felt like resolve.

Dawn adjusted her bag.

David fell into step beside him.

They didn't speak.

The fire behind them had already said everything.

And as they walked toward the path of their decision, shoulders brushing, hearts still aching—Theo made his choice.

Whatever came next, whatever the world demanded—

He wasn't running anymore.