As night fell over Artimia, a quiet sorrow blanketed the remains of the town. The echoes of the day's horrors had faded, replaced by the soft crackle of flames and the hushed murmurs of grief.
With no artificial lights to guide the way, the sky opened up above them—an ocean of stars stretching endlessly, a sea of diamonds over the ashes of their world.
The only illumination came from a single, enormous pyre—the size of a small home—burning in the center of the town. Around it, the survivors gathered, young and old alike, their faces pale and stained with soot.
Theo stood among them, flanked by David and Dawn, as silence draped itself over the crowd like mourning cloth.
He could hear the cries. See the tears. 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 fire.
Inside the flame, the dead were laid to rest.
Theo's eyes stayed fixed on the blaze. 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.
He turned slightly, his hand finding Dawn's. Her fingers trembled in his grip.
"Mama… Papa…" she whispered, her voice cracking like glass. "Why did this have to happen?"
She clung to him, sobbing quietly into his chest. He held her, his arms tight around her frame. It was the first time he'd ever embraced her, but it felt neither tender nor warm—only heavy, like the weight of everything they'd lost had been packed into that single moment.
David stared up at the sky. He removed his glasses and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept falling.
"Gramps... You were all I had left. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
Theo placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"They took everything from us..." David said quietly.
Theo's lips parted, but no response came. There were no words. Nothing that could ease that kind of ache.
From the edge of the firelight, Nozomu stood and approached. His long cloak whispered behind him, his footsteps silent over broken stone and ash.
He reached the center, cleared his throat, and raised his voice—not loud, but firm enough to ripple through the air.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nozomu," he said. "I am the commander of this group."
He gestured to the others behind him: Isabella, Evaughn, Pop, and Tana—seated together on a collapsed structure of rubble.
"Today, you've all witnessed a hell unlike anything you could've imagined. I know your pain. I know your anger. And I know your grief. So I'll keep this simple."
He took a deep breath, his voice gaining strength.
"Tonight, I stand before you as an invitation."
Isabella's eyes widened in horror. "What is he doing?" she hissed.
She sprang to her feet to stop him, but Evaughn—calm and towering—stepped in her way.
"Hold up, Bella," he rumbled. "Let him talk. Let's see what happens, shall we?"
She glared up at him, but Evaughn didn't budge.
"...Okay, fine," Isabella fumed, backing down—for now.
"You've seen it now," Nozomu continued. "You've seen the power of the God-King—and just how powerless you are against it.
He pointed toward the debris of fallen buildings around them.
"But today, you also saw something else. You saw that they can be hurt. My comrades and I have the means to fight back."
Chatter broke out in the crowd. Uneasy. Skeptical.
"You're insane," someone muttered.
"He's right! It's the God-King we're talking about!"
"Don't listen to him! He just wants more of us dead!"
"He's trying to start a war!"
Nozomu ignored them, as if none of the words had ever been spoken.
"At sunrise," he said, "two carriages will be waiting at the entrance of town."
The murmurs ceased.
"One will take you to a nearby settlement. A place where you can start over. Hide. Rebuild. The other will be heading out with us."
A hush fell over the crowd.
"So as you watch your loved ones burn," Nozomu said, "ask yourself: If you had the chance to change this world… would you take it? Not for yourself. For the ones you lost today."
Theo's eyes flickered—either from the fire's glow or something else. A spark.
"But more importantly… what will you do for those you still have left to protect?"
Nozomu stepped away, letting his final words linger. Isabella stormed toward him, her voice tight with frustration.
"Nozomu! Why now? Couldn't you wait until morning? They're still grieving. Can't you see that?"
He gently brushed past her. "I do. That's exactly why I said it now."
He returned to his seat and said nothing more.
Theo, Dawn, and David remained near the fire. The heat was overwhelming, but Theo couldn't move.
He kept searching the flames, trying to find them. His parents. Their shapes were long gone, lost in the rising smoke.
The fire crackled into the late hours, its glow pulsing softly against the ruined walls of Artimia.
One by one, the townspeople drifted off, finding what rest they could beneath makeshift shelters or collapsed doorways.
The whispers quieted, the sobs grew distant, and the night settled deep into the bones of the survivors.
Theo remained by the embers, staring into the heart of the dying flame. It no longer roared—it breathed. Gentle and tired. Like it, too, had mourned enough for one night.
He didn't know how long he stood there. Long enough for the stars to shift. Long enough for the pain to dull just slightly beneath the weight of exhaustion.
Eventually, his legs gave out, and he sat beside the ashes, knees drawn to his chest.
Nozomu's words echoed in his mind.
"What will you do for those you still have left to protect?"
Theo didn't have the answer. He didn't have anyone left.
The smoke curled around him, and in the quiet, a memory returned—his father's voice, strong even in its final moments.
"Live. Live and change this world."
The words echoed, cutting deeper than any blade. Theo bit down hard, his hands clenched into fists.
He didn't speak. Didn't cry. Just sat there, shoulders hunched beneath the weight of a promise he never got to make.
At some point, his eyes shut.
And when they opened again—
The sun was rising, but it brought no warmth.
Ash coated the streets of Artimia. The homes that remained were half-collapsed, burned black, and empty. Theo stepped over debris as he returned to what was left of his house.
It wasn't a home anymore—just a shell.
Inside, everything was broken. The scent of breakfast that once greeted him every morning had been replaced by soot and rot.
He moved slowly, picking through the wreckage. A few clothes. A faded drawing. A cracked cup.
He packed what he could.
Then—movement.
A blur of black fur hurled itself into his arms.
"Mimi!"
The cat meowed furiously, licking his chin, her little body trembling against his chest. He held her close, tears stinging his eyes.
"You're safe…" he whispered. "I thought I lost you too."
He carried her downstairs, pausing at the door.
"I'm going away for a while, Mimi," he said softly. "I don't know how long. And Mom and Dad… they're not coming back. But don't worry. I'll find you a good home."
His voice wavered.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect them. But I'll get stronger. I promise."
He stepped outside, the wind brushing past him like a ghost.
To his surprise, Dawn and David stood there waiting, bags slung over their shoulders.
"Guys… I'm joining Nozomu and the others. I know you're gonna try and talk me out of it, but—"
"What makes you think we'd stop you?" Dawn asked.
"Did you really think we'd let you run off and play hero by yourself?" David added. Theo stared at them, stunned.
"We understand, Theo," Dawn said gently. "We lost a lot too. But we still have each other."
"We're in this together," David said, adjusting his glasses.
Theo smiled, warmth creeping into his chest. For the first time since yesterday, it didn't feel like he was sinking.
Mimi wriggled in his arms, leaped out, and nestled into Dawn's embrace.
"Well, someone's already made her choice," Dawn laughed softly, holding the cat close.
Her voice cracked just slightly at the end, the smile she wore barely holding.
Theo managed a small chuckle. It was thin, fleeting—but real.
"Thanks," he whispered, glancing between the two of them. "For everything."
David smirked. "Oh, shut up and bring it in, dumbass."
He pulled them both into a tight hug. Not just for comfort. For gravity. For something to hold them together when the world felt like it was slipping apart.
They stood like that for a long moment—arms wrapped, hearts aching.
It didn't undo the loss.
It didn't erase the pain.
But it helped them carry it.
"I'm glad I'm not doing this alone," Theo said, voice rough. "If I was... I think I'd fall apart."
Dawn squeezed his shoulder. "That's why we're here."
David nodded. "We fall apart together. That way we always have enough pieces to keep moving."
Theo pulled away, blinking fast. The sting behind his eyes came back sharper than he expected.
But this time, it didn't win.
He looked back one last time. The house he'd grown up in was gone.
The smell of ash still clung to the air. Somewhere behind them, the great pyre still burned low, its embers glowing faintly beneath the morning sun.
But what lingered most wasn't the ruin.
It was the silence.
The kind that came after a storm. Not peaceful—just… hollow.
"We should go," David said, shouldering his pack. "It's almost time."
Theo nodded.
Together, the three of them turned and walked toward the entrance of the town.
The road ahead stretched long and uncertain, carved through a world that had already proven it could take everything from them.
But they walked it anyway.
Step by step.
Behind them, the wind picked up.
Theo didn't know where the road would take them.
But he knew one thing:
He wasn't looking back.
Not anymore.
And whatever came next—
He'd be ready.