The stranger's footsteps echoed in the empty silence.
Kael's body refused to move.
His mind screamed to run, to fight, to burn—
—but he was paralyzed.
The figure stopped a few feet away, hands tucked casually into the pockets of a black military-style coat.
His silver hair caught the pale moonlight, and his cold, calculating blue eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
It was a face Kael knew all too well.
"Lysander..."
The name crawled across Kael's mind like a venomous snake.
The man who should not be here.
The man he once trusted—no, once feared.
Lysander's smile widened slightly, as if savoring Kael's reaction.
"You've made quite the mess," he said, voice dripping with mock sympathy.
"Poor little Kael... set the world on fire again, did you?"
Kael said nothing.
He couldn't.
His throat was dry, his soul hollow.
Every instinct in him screamed that Lysander's presence was no coincidence.
"You know," Lysander continued, stepping closer, boots crunching over ash and broken glass,
"I was wondering when you'd finally lose control.
I guess all it took was one little girl."
Kael's hands clenched into trembling fists.
"Shut up," he whispered, voice raw.
But Lysander only laughed, a cruel, low sound.
"You're pathetic. Always have been."
He tilted his head, as if examining a broken toy.
"And now look at you... a monster, just like they said you'd be."
Kael's vision blurred with rage and grief.
The broken world around him seemed to pulse with his heartbeat.
His burnt arms trembled, faint blue embers flickering at his fingertips.
Lysander noticed—and smiled even wider.
"Go ahead," he said, voice soft and inviting.
"Burn me too, Kael.
Show me the monster you were always meant to be."
Kael's body shuddered.
He could feel it—the fire inside him screaming to be unleashed.
But amidst the inferno of hate, a small, broken voice whispered:
"Elara wouldn't want this."
Kael gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
Slowly, he forced the flames back down, swallowing the rage with blood and pain.
Lysander gave a mock sigh, almost disappointed.
"Still pretending to be human, huh?"
He turned his back casually, walking a few steps into the smoke.
"Doesn't matter. Sooner or later, Kael Ashmourne...
you'll understand."
"And when you do..."
Lysander's voice echoed, fading into the night,
"I'll be waiting."
The last thing Kael heard was the fading crunch of boots on broken earth.
And then—only silence.
Kael collapsed to his knees, clutching the burned scarf at his neck.
Beneath the sea of ashes, he swore again:
"I will burn this world down... and rise from its ashes."