Location: Dark Mental State
Feldway POV
The flames curled around me—slow at first, like they were trying to get cozy. Warm. Uncomfortably so. Not the kind of warmth you enjoy. The kind that whispers something's wrong.
I probably should've moved. Screamed. Done something. But my limbs were quiet, and my voice… missing. Caught somewhere between the pressure and the brightness.
The trap had triggered. I knew that. Should've seen it. Should've dodged. But I didn't. And now I was sitting in divine fire, soaking in it like some twisted baptism.
It started out bearable. Sharp, maybe. Like dragging glass across skin. Then it changed—less flame, more… cutting. Precise. Peeling back layers. Not just pain—disassembly. Not just body—everything.
Still, I didn't scream.
Not because I was strong.
Because it didn't feel real.
…
"Y/N…"
…
"Y/N…"
…
It's her… I heard her voice…
As I turned I saw the same dinner table, I walked to it, as I started to feel younger as I looked down on my feet… it was the same feet that I had on that day.
"Y/N… what do you want for your tenth birthday?"
My mother's voice. Gentle. Loving. Safe.
I remembered sitting at the dinner table, kicking my feet beneath the chair, arms crossed like I was trying to act mature.
"I don't know, Mom. I already have everything I want… and I am not interested in spending money on expensive things"
She had smiled. That kind of smile that made the whole room feel warm. Warmer than any flame.
Then came my father's booming laugh. That proud, loud laugh that always made me feel small—but not in a bad way. In a safe way.
"HAHAHA! My son is just like me! Thinking about cost before anything else. Well, it's special for that day only. Ask for anything, champ."
I remembered us arguing—me and my sister. Something so stupid. Something about cats versus dogs. She insisted cats were smarter. I shouted that dogs were more loyal. We fought like it mattered. It didn't. I'd kill for another dumb argument like that.
But then… everything twisted.
The ceiling cracked. Smoke choked the air. My mother's smile vanished. My father's laugh was cut short.
The house was burning.
"Mom? Dad? Sis?!" I screamed, running through the hall as fire poured down the walls like molten rain. "DO SOMETHING! The house is on fire!!"
No one answered.
I saw them—one by one—engulfed in flame. My sister, trying to cover her mouth with a towel, disappearing into smoke. My father, trying to shield us, before the ceiling collapsed on him. My mother… reaching for me.
And then they were gone.
"No… NO!!" I screamed again, fists slamming into the burning floor. "PLEASE—!!"
The fire wasn't magical. It wasn't divine.
It was real. And it took everything from me.
But then… the vision changed.
The fire died away in an instant, and I stood in the ashes. Alone. My hands trembling, covered in soot… and blood.
Blood?
I looked down. My hands were wet. Red. Sticky. Not just my family's. Someone else's.
"What… what did I do?" I whispered.
And that's when I heard them.
Voices. Not loud. Not high or low. Just… wrong.
From the shadows around the ruined house, figures began to emerge—tall, cloaked in veils of black smoke, their faces hidden in writhing voids. Their eyes—if they could be called that—glowed faintly with crimson light.
One of them extended a hand toward me. Its fingers were long, skeletal, and wrapped in black shadowy suit.
"Come."
The word wasn't spoken. It echoed inside my head like a whisper made of knives.
"You have lost everything."
"But you survived. Because you were meant to."
I stumbled back, heart racing. "Who… who are you?"
They didn't answer.
Another hand emerged, reaching toward me from the dark. Their fingers were made of some blackened mist, twisting unnaturally.
"The world above doesn't need you to be amongs them. So it would be better for you serve under them"
"They will give you the right to your strength. And purpose to use that right. You will never be weak again."
My knees buckled.
I wanted to run. I wanted to scream.
But I didn't.
I looked again at my hands—still bloody, trembling, broken. My family was gone. My world had burned.
What was left?
Nothing but me… and them.
The shadows circled closer, like vultures around a corpse.
One knelt before me, its head bowed low. "You are perfect for the job, child."
And then the fire in my chest began to grow—not the one from before. This was colder. Sharper. A flame that didn't burn but devoured.
I didn't remember nodding.
But I did.
And the shadow took my hand.
In that moment, something changed.
The world shattered.
To be continued…