Many memories floated around Kei at the same time, layered on top of each other like thin panes of glass. They played with no clear order, so it was hard to tell what had happened first and what came after. The pictures were dim and blurry at the edges, almost like Kei was looking at them through water, but the voices came through sharp and clear, cutting through everything else.
One memory drew Kei's attention above all the rest. He found himself looking directly through Vincent's eyes, watching a woman with tired, gentle eyes — Vincent's mother.
They stood in a small, plain kitchen. The warm smell of fresh meal filled the air.
"Mom, where's Dad?" young Vincent asked.
His mother went still, her back to him as she stood at the counter. "Your father?"
"He hasn't come home in two days," Vincent said, swinging his feet against the legs of his wooden chair. "What happened? Is he stuck working late again?"
The plate she was holding slipped from her hands. It hit the floor and broke apart, the sound sharp and loud in the quiet room. She didn't bend down to pick up the pieces. She just stood frozen, her shoulders trembling silently.
Before Vincent could say anything else, the kitchen dissolved into darkness.
Kei stepped forward, black mist curling away from his shoes as a new scene appeared.
Now Vincent was walking through a busy market square, gripping his mother's sleeve tightly. Between them they carried a small basket filled with greens and root vegetables.
An imperial herald's voice rang out over the crowd:
"Hear this, citizens of Westex! By order of the Crown, return to your homes at once! Rebels and traitors have been captured within the district. Any soul caught harboring their blood, concealing their whereabouts, or questioning the Crown's divine decree shall swing from the gallows before dusk."
Panic spread instantly. People left their stalls and ran. Vincent looked up at his mother, holding onto her sleeve even tighter. "Mom? What's going on? Who are they talking about?"
She left no answer. Tears slid quietly down her face as she pulled him close against her skirt and rushed him into a side alley.
The scene faded to black again.
Kei kept walking. Smaller memories drifted by — Vincent hunched over a desk with ink-stained fingers, Vincent laughing with friends from school over a shared piece of bread. Simple, warm, ordinary days. But those gentle moments were quickly pushed aside by something... much darker.
This time, Vincent and his mother were caught in the middle of a terrified crowd. Hundreds of people were packed together, running from the sound of marching boots and screams somewhere behind them.
"Move! Get out of the way!" a man shouted as he shoved past, knocking Vincent's mother down onto the cobblestones.
Vincent dropped beside her at once. "Mom, are you hurt? Can you get up?"
"I'm fine, Vince. Don't worry about me," she said, though her face had gone pale, and one hand pressed against her chest as the crush of bodies and dust made it hard to breathe.
"Stay here," Vincent told her. "I'll go get some water. Just wait for me, okay?"
She nodded weakly and leaned back against the cold stone.
Vincent pushed his way through the crowd toward a group of town volunteers passing out water from big wooden barrels. "Please," he begged, holding out both hands. "My mother can hardly breathe. Can I have some water?"
A volunteer handed him a wooden flask. Vincent grabbed it, relief washing over his face, and turned to run back to his mother —
Then the world went blinding white.
For a moment there was no sound at all. Just a flash so bright it wiped away the buildings, the sky, and the whole crowd in an instant.
Kei froze in place. He glanced around, thinking to himself, "What happened?"
The white emptiness stretched out around him, silent and shapeless, before slowly rotting into thick, suffocating black.
He took ten slow steps through the darkness.
Then everything caught fire.
A wave of orange and red swallowed the black completely. Looking down through Vincent's eyes again, Kei saw two small hands, blistered and burned. The skin along his arms was cracked open and charred, but even as blood rose to the surface, a bright golden warmth surged underneath, sealing the wounds shut again within seconds.
Vincent's breathing came fast and broken. He forced himself up and looked around the square.
There was nothing left standing.
The buildings had collapsed into burning heaps. The crowd that had filled the square only minutes ago was now a field of blackened, still shapes buried beneath smoking wood and hot ash.
Kei felt sick. The water. He'd only been gone a minute.
Heavy boots crunched against the hot gravel. A squad of armored soldiers marched into the square, spears raised.
"There!" one soldier shouted, pointing his spear at the boy. "How is a child still alive after that blast?"
"It doesn't matter!" the officer barked. "No witnesses. Cut him down!"
The front line charged forward, shields locked together.
Vincent didn't move. He stood over a pile of smoking timber, where a torn scrap of his mother's shawl still fluttered in the heat.
"Ashes... ashes..." he whispered, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the word out. "Nothing left... but ashes..."
As the soldiers closed in, the heat in the square suddenly spiked. The air shimmered, growing so hot that the men's iron helmets began scorching their scalps. The soldiers slowed down, fear creeping into their faces.
"What is that kid?" the officer stammered, his spear hand trembling.
Vincent lifted his head. Kei could see in the faces of the soldiers the fear in their eyes as Vincent stood in front of them.
"You killed them," Vincent growled, his voice rising from a ragged sob into a deafening scream. "You did this! YOU KILLED THEM! I'LL BURN IT ALL DOWN! I'LL BURN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"
He thrust both arms forward.
A wall of white-hot flame tore out of his palms and swallowed the soldiers whole. Their shields did not just fail to block the heat — the iron melted on contact, and the men behind them turned to ash before their screams could even escape from their throats.
Vincent walked through the fire, crying openly as flames poured off his skin like water spilling from a broken dam. He moved through the streets of Westex, tearing down checkpoints, smashing through barricades, and melting stone walls into glowing slag. The fire spread wild and uncontrolled, swallowing entire districts as he passed.
Somewhere in the smoke-filled distance, terrified voices cried out:
"Help! Someone save my son, please!"
"Why is the King doing this to us? What did we do to deserve this?"
The nightmare pulled Kei deeper, the flames twisting into a dark tunnel dragging him forward.
When the smoke finally cleared, Vincent stood at the base of the royal palace's grand stone steps. The huge gates had been blasted inward, reduced to pools of melted metal. Vincent walked over the smoking armor of fallen guards, leaving scorched footprints across the white marble as he stepped into the throne room.
At the far end of the massive hall, the King of Westex sat frozen on his raised throne, pale and drenched in sweat.
"Kill that creature at once!" the King cried out, drawing back against his chair in revulsion. "You have done the most terrible thing anyone could ever do! I proclaim your true name: the FirebeastofWestex! You are a monster who has ended so many lives — and today, you die as one!"
Dozens of the kingdom's elite practitioners stepped forward together. Unlike the soldiers outside, these men were true masters of their craft. Working as one, they summoned massive torrents of water and thick spears of ice, sending them straight at Vincent.
The water hissed and screamed as it crashed into Vincent's fire, filling the throne room with blinding, scalding steam.
Vincent fought back like a cornered animal. Surrounded and half-blinded by freezing mist, he pushed through the front line, driving fists of raw heat through their water shields and burning down ten of the elite guards before his strength finally began to fade.
Then spears of hardened ice drove through his legs and shoulders, pinning him to the marble floor. Heavy waves of cold water poured over his chest, smothering the fire in his lungs until his desperate screams weakened into shallow, choking breaths.
The memory broke apart and faded, pulling Kei back into the heavy, quiet dark.