The molten gate rumbled shut behind Ash, sealing him into a silence so deep it felt like time itself had stopped.
The inner sanctum of the Scorchwind Forge wasn't built for mortals.
It was a cavern of impossible architecture—floating stone rings revolved in midair, pulsing with veins of lava. A colossal crimson forge-heart hovered at the center, suspended by nothing but flame and will. It beat slowly, like a slumbering god's heart, and with every pulse, Ash felt the pressure on his soul double.
"This is ancient," he muttered, voice hoarse. "Too ancient."
"You stand in the bone marrow of a world long dead," the serpent whispered, uncharacteristically quiet. "This forge once shaped flames for sovereigns. It does not remember names… only worth."
Ash stepped onto the central platform.
The forge-heart woke.
---
Trial of Soulfire
The flames around the forge twisted into spiraling glyphs, unreadable yet seared into his vision. They didn't speak—but Ash understood.
> Shed weakness. Temper your soul. Survive.
A ring of flame enclosed him—then another, and another, until he stood at the center of a glowing crucible. Fire rose like a storm, not burning his flesh, but tearing into his spirit.
And then the pain began.
Ash gasped as the Soul Flame inside him roared, rising up like a predator sensing a challenge. It flared violently—greedy, destructive. But then the Phoenix Mark answered, its soft golden glow wrapping him in warmth, trying to heal what the other burned.
They clashed inside him.
> "Stop—" he groaned, dropping to his knees. His memories blurred. Feng Yao's life, his humiliation, his pain…
Ash Lockwood's battlefield, betrayal, his final breath…
They collided, overlapped, screaming over each other.
He felt himself coming apart.
---
Resonance and Realization
> "You are dying," the serpent murmured, watching from within. "Like those before you. Two flames that cannot coexist will always consume the bearer."
Ash gritted his teeth. "Then I'll make them coexist."
He didn't fight to extinguish either flame. He accepted both.
One was fury, the other hope. One destroyed, the other rebuilt.
They weren't enemies. They were balance.
He opened his arms, embracing the storm inside him.
And in that moment, the two Soul Marks resonated—not in conflict, but in harmony.
The forge reacted.
---
Flame Baptism
The rings of fire stopped spinning. The crucible dimmed.
The forge-heart pulsed once—deep, final—and then released a spark the size of a fist.
It floated down, embedding itself in Ash's chest, right over the phoenix mark. Flames spiraled down his arms, etching new patterns onto his skin that faded into his veins.
A new flame was born inside him—not just resentful, not just regenerative—but refined.
> 🔥 You have learned a new technique: Crimson Spiral Pulse.
A soul-piercing fire burst that drills through defenses, fed by dual-source flame essence.
Ash fell to one knee, panting. He could barely hold his body upright.
> "You weren't supposed to survive that," the serpent muttered. "You cheated death with philosophy. Disgusting."
Ash smiled weakly.
> "Worked, didn't it?"
---
Prophecy in Fire
Before he left, the forge-heart flickered, revealing a vision etched in flame on the walls—a mural of a man with two Soul Marks, standing at the gates of the heavens.
Behind him were corpses of giants and kings. Before him, a path to the stars.
Ash stared at it, heart thudding.
He didn't understand it yet. But something told him—this was not a coincidence. He was not the first.
Or perhaps… he would be the last.
---
End