Kaylen's eyes snapped open to a shattered world—a twisted, crumbling mirror of his childhood home. Walls cracked and sagging, memories bleeding into smoke. The air was thick with silence—except for distant, haunting cries, like ghosts trapped behind glass.
"Grandma…?"
He reached out, but she dissolved into mist before his fingers could touch her. The ache of loss slammed into him like a fist.
Further down the broken hallway, Dagrum's silhouette faded into swirling fog, his back turned, disappearing like a promise broken.
"Help! Kaylen!" His friends' voices—raw, desperate—echoed just beyond reach. Faces twisted in terror and pain flickered like broken reflections, screaming silently for him to save them. But his legs wouldn't move. He was frozen in helplessness.
Every step felt like dragging chains made of his own failures. Shadows writhed around him—
The whispers slithered into Kaylen's mind like poison, each taunt a needle twisting deeper.
"You were always alone…""You couldn't save them…""You never will."
The voices didn't just haunt him — they clawed at his sanity, dragging him toward a madness where every loss played on repeat. The faces of his fallen friends flickered in his vision, their screams echoing in a loop, relentless and merciless.
Fear strangled him—the fear of being left behind again, abandoned in a world where no one would fight for him.
"Please… stop…" he whispered, voice cracking, eyes squeezed shut as if willing the nightmares away.
But the silence shattered like glass.
That fear twisted into something darker—rage, a burning fire that swallowed his desperation whole.
"Dammit! Even if I'm meant to lose, I will try everything! I will do better!" His voice broke free, raw and desperate, screaming into the void. Soon he stopped the desperate attempt to alter what's already happened, and what's about the happen. Kaylen tries to break free from the hell he was in.
The walls around him trembled as his fists pounded, each blow fueled by every failure he refused to accept.
He didn't see the dying, the screams—the endless torment—only the wall holding him captive. His determination became a storm, relentless and merciless.
With a deafening crack, the wall shattered, exploding into dust and fire.
And in the sudden silence that followed, standing before him—a man in a dark blue suit, seated on a lavish chair, a grin twisting across his face like he knew every secret Kaylen carried.
The man rose from his throne with the slow, deliberate grace of something and unbothered by time. Blue flames danced from the cracks in his skin, casting a faint glow against the surrounding darkness. His smile—sharp, predatory—never wavered.
Kaylen stood motionless, breath caught somewhere between awe and dread.
The man's voice broke the silence, deep and echoing, as if carried on the embers of a thousand dying souls.
"My name… is Ifirit, child."His glowing eyes narrowed, locked onto Kaylen like a wolf regarding a flickering candle.
"I am one of the beings once feared as a demon among demons."He stepped closer, each footfall igniting brief bursts of blue flame beneath him."For my purpose is simple: To live... and to devour everything in fire."
Kaylen didn't speak. He couldn't. His mouth was dry, heart pounding against his ribs like a warning drum. The heat radiating off the figure was unbearable, yet his body didn't move. Couldn't move.
Ifirit tilted his head, amused. The flames in his eyes flickered, and he inhaled deeply through his jagged teeth.
"And your sorrow… was delicious."
The words sliced deeper than any blade. Kaylen's fists clenched, but his legs trembled. He was still processing the nightmare, the losses, the fire—and now this.
But Ifirit wasn't interested in explanations.
He walked past Kaylen like a shadow crossing over light, then stopped just behind him.
"For now," he said softly, almost gently, "you will be guided."He raised a hand, blue fire licking at his fingertips."I will simply observe."
He leaned in, voice now a whisper against Kaylen's ear, more intimate than threatening.
"But we will meet again, child… and I look forward to seeing what the blood flowing through your veins is truly capable of."
And with that, he turned.
The world seemed to inhale.
Then—Blue flame exploded outward.
Ifirit's body dissolved into pure fire, a roaring inferno of cerulean heat and hunger. The flames surged toward Kaylen in a wave—no time to run, no time to scream.
The last thing Kaylen saw was the searing blue light engulfing everything—And then—
Darkness. And then—Nothing.
Only fragments remained. Screeches like metal on bone. A voice—screaming. Blue fire licking across everything. The crackling of flames. And then… silence.
Kaylen's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, lungs drinking in the air like he'd surfaced from drowning. Sweat soaked his body, matting his hair to his forehead. His chest heaved. The sheets clung to him like damp vines.
He was home. In his room.
The soft morning light leaked through the half-drawn curtains. Birds chirped faintly outside—mocking the chaos that still echoed in his skull.
His heart thundered, not from exhaustion, but from memory.
The explosion.The blood.Kyle's scream.Miles…Clara…Ifirit.The blue flame. That grin.The suit. The voice that promised everything and nothing all at once.
For a second, he almost convinced himself it had all been a nightmare.But when he looked down—
His hands were shaking.His skin tingled faintly—like embers still pulsed just beneath the surface.
Everything came rushing back.
Kaylen took a breath, steadying himself, and swung his legs off the bed. His body felt… whole.No torn muscles. No burns. No scars. Not even the missing hand he remembered losing. It was all back. Like it had never happened.
But it had.
He stood slowly, opened the door to his room—and froze.
In the living room stood several men in black tactical suits. Some with sidearms. One with a briefcase.
At the center of them, seated stiffly on the couch, was his grandmother, clutching a cup of tea that trembled in her grasp. Beside her stood Dagrum, arms crossed, eyes watching the men like a wolf in the sheep pen.
All eyes turned to Kaylen the moment he stepped through the door.
A pause.Tension.As if the very air took a breath and held it.
They looked at him not with relief—but with calculation.
Dagrum's gravel-lined voice broke the silence.
"Come sit, boy. We've got a lot to talk about."
Kaylen's legs moved on their own, still weak. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the worn couch across from them. His grandmother gave a small, worried smile—tired and unreadable.
Then, with a casual flick of Dagrum's hand, the suited men vanished—in a blink. No words. No sound. Just a shift in the air like space itself had bent.
Kaylen stared at the spot they once stood, trying to find breath in the sudden stillness.
"…Did all of that happen?" His voice trembled slightly. "The monsters… Kyle, Miles… Clara?" He swallowed hard. "Who were those men? That blue flame… that man in the suit—was it real? Or was I just—"
"Stop." Dagrum raised a hand, firm but not unkind.
"We'll explain everything."
Kaylen's eyes darted between them. "We?"
His voice cracked now—not from fear, but from something deeper. The weight of truth, pressing in.
"You mean… you knew about this? Grandma too? What even is going on?"
Dagrum's expression shifted. No longer the gruff but harmless neighbor. There was something behind those eyes—like a warrior who'd seen too many deaths and buried too many truths.
Kaylen's grandmother closed her eyes as if the moment she'd feared had finally come.
And then Dagrum leaned forward.
"Yes, Kaylen. We knew. We always have. Because this—this was never supposed to be your burden… until now."
Dagrum cleared his throat, the old man's voice low and rough—like the sound of old gears grinding back to life.
"Kaylen… it's time you knew who you really are."
He glanced at Delilah—your grandmother—who gave the faintest nod, her eyes rimmed with a sorrow that ran far too deep for one lifetime.
"Delilah… is my sister. We were born over two centuries ago—descendants of a Norse bloodline tasked with a singular purpose: to hunt and destroy demons."
Kaylen blinked, the room seeming to tilt slightly beneath him.
"You're… two hundred?"
Dagrum gave a grim smile. "A bit older than I look, eh?" He leaned forward, eyes dark with memories. "Our family is blessed—or cursed, depending on how you see it—with longevity and power. We were forged to fight the things that crawl in shadow. I was once a captain in the last demon purge."
Kaylen's gaze shifted to his grandmother, his throat tightening. She didn't deny it. Her silence confirmed everything.
Dagrum continued, gentler now.
"When Delilah was young, she… met a demon." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Not one of the mindless beasts you've seen. This one had a will—a soul. He was a wanderer from the other realm, and against all reason… they fell in love."
Kaylen's breath caught.
"Your mother was a bridge between two worlds. That made you something… more."
He let that sink in.
"After that, everything changed. Delilah stayed hidden. And I was assigned to watch over her… and you. To keep you safe, should your blood awaken."
Dagrum's voice darkened.
"Last week… the Wendigos were not random. Something's stirring—something old. The attack at your party wasn't an accident."
Kaylen stared at the floor. The faces of his friends flashing in his mind.
Dagrum exhaled.
"Cedric—your friend—he was more than that. He was one of mine. Placed near you as a silent protector. His orders were clear: if your blood ever stirred, he was to give you the artifact… the Armament."
His fists clenched, not in anger, but loss.
"He did his duty. And it cost him everything."
Kaylen's voice barely came out.
"Then… I'm the only one who made it."
"Yes. When the stirring happened—when Ifirit chose you—the fire burned everything. A one-kilometer radius, turned to cinders. There was nothing left. No corpses. No clues. Just… ash."
Silence followed.
Kaylen sat motionless, trying to absorb the avalanche of truth. His heart should've been racing. His mind should've been spiraling. But instead, he felt… still.
A quiet clarity through the storm.
And finally, he looked up, eyes hard with something new in them.
"So what now?" Dagrum stood up. Then nodded.
"Now… we begin."