The tunnel seemed endless, a throat of concrete and smoke stretching beneath the dead city. The deeper they went, the colder it became, the air thick with dust and metallic echoes. Kael’s footsteps scraped softly behind Lira, whose small flashlight cast thin circles of light on the wet floor. Pipes lined the walls like the veins of an old beast, still humming faintly with the ghost of energy that once powered the metropolis.

He wanted to ask questions—who she was, why she was helping him—but his throat burned too much to speak. His body felt heavy, every movement reminding him of the fire still lurking beneath his skin. He could feel it there, waiting, alive and restless, like a wild animal that had just tasted freedom.

After what felt like an hour, they reached a sealed maintenance door. Lira knelt beside the panel, pulled a small tool from her belt, and started bypassing the lock. Sparks danced briefly as she worked. “Most people think this place collapsed after the wars,” she murmured. “That’s what makes it perfect.”

With a sharp click, the door opened. A faint blue light spilled through. Kael stepped inside and froze.

The space beyond was enormous—a forgotten subway terminal turned into a hidden workshop. Rusted train cars rested on broken rails. Holographic blueprints floated in the air above a cluttered table filled with tools, wires, and fragments of Pyronite cores. Generators hummed softly in the corners, powered by what looked like repurposed energy cells.

“You built all this?” Kael asked, finally finding his voice.

Lira smiled faintly. “Salvaged it. The Federation leaves plenty behind if you know where to look. They don’t care about the old world—they just build new ones on top of the ashes.”

She tossed him a canteen of water, which he caught clumsily. “Drink. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing the fire in his throat. “Why help me?” he asked. “You don’t even know who I am.”

Lira’s eyes flicked toward him, then back to the console she was repairing. “You’re not the first person to survive a Pyronite surge,” she said quietly. “But you are the first one who didn’t die afterward. That means something.”

Kael frowned. “Others… died?”

She nodded. “When Pyronite overloads, it releases unstable plasma energy. The Federation calls it resonant collapse. Most bodies can’t handle that kind of power. But you…” She pointed a small scanner toward him. Its display flashed crimson. “You absorbed it. Your vitals show fusion at a molecular level. Whatever’s inside you—it’s not just reacting to fire. It is fire.”

Kael stared at his hands, remembering the moment in the crater when the flames answered him like an echo. “Then what am I?”

Lira hesitated, then turned her screen toward him. A hologram appeared—a glowing sphere surrounded by layers of rotating symbols. “This is what I’ve been researching: the Flame Core Theory. Before the wars, scientists speculated that Pyronite came from a primal source—a living energy from the planet’s heart. They called it the First Flame. The theory said one person, a Resonant Host, could carry that spark inside them.”

She looked him in the eyes. “I think that’s you.”

The words hit him like thunder. Kael stepped back, shaking his head. “That’s impossible. I’m just—”

“—a survivor of a reactor explosion that should’ve vaporized you,” Lira interrupted. “Your heartbeat registers heat spikes beyond any human tolerance. You regenerated in minutes. You’re not just anything, Kael.”

He wanted to argue, but the truth pulsed under his skin, warm and undeniable. The fire that had destroyed everything was also what kept him alive.

Lira turned away, pulling open a drawer full of metallic gauntlets and burned circuitry. “If you stay here, I can help you control it,” she said. “But if you leave now, the Federation will find you within a day. They’re already tracking your signature.”

Kael looked toward the dark tunnel they had come from. Somewhere up there, soldiers were probably combing through the ruins, their sensors picking up faint trails of heat. His jaw tightened.

“What happens if they catch me?”

“They’ll use you,” Lira replied without hesitation. “They’ll cut that power out of you, piece by piece, until they can weaponize it.”

Kael fell silent. The hum of the generators filled the air like a low heartbeat. He walked to the far wall, where a broken mirror leaned against a pile of tools. His reflection shimmered faintly, eyes still glowing amber in the dim light.

He touched the mirror’s surface. “If this fire can destroy,” he said slowly, “then maybe it can protect, too.”

Lira studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. “That’s a dangerous way to think. But maybe that’s what this world needs.”

She reached for a pair of gloves reinforced with Pyronite circuits and handed them to him. “Put these on. If you’re going to stay, we train. And if we train, you learn to stop the fire from killing you.”

Kael slipped the gloves on. The material hummed against his palms, warm and alive. The fire inside him responded immediately, pulsing once in acknowledgment—as if it, too, had been waiting for this.

“Then let’s start,” he said.

And in the glow of the underground lights, a new flame sparked—not of chaos, but of purpose.