The wind carried the scent of soot and sorrow.
In the outskirts of a forgotten village, a boy lay motionless, his hands burned raw, his breath shallow. Flames licked at the ruins behind him—but none dared touch his skin. Around him, villagers stared in fear, whispering the same word.
"Witch."
"Monster."
"Kiribi."
He opened his eyes slowly, and the world flickered.
For a moment, the sky cracked open. Fire rained from heavens. Voices screamed. Gods fell.
And then it was gone.
Just silence. And a flickering flame in his chest.
"Why do I remember the end of the world…?"