Yuki Asano walks alone, hoodie drenched. His eyes look half-dead. In his hand, a worn-out cassette recorder. The last thing his mother left behind.
> Yuki's thoughts
Memories don't fade. They rot. And when they rot, they whisper.
He stops at the edge of a crosswalk. Hits play.
Static. Then a voice. Familiar. Soft. Frightened.
> Cassette
Yuki... if you're hearing this, it means I failed to stop it. The Ember... they lied to us...
Yuki's eyes widen. He stumbles back. Suddenly, the recorder ignites. Purple fire. Cold. Silent.
He drops it. The flames crawl on the wet pavement. They don't sizzle. They grow.
From the alley nearby, someone watches.
Black coat. Eyes glowing faintly. Masked face.
> Stranger
You shouldn't have heard that, kid.
A sudden gust slashes the alley. Not wind. Shards. Shaped like memory fragments. Floating like broken glass.
The man steps forward. His hand glows. Something in it pulses.
Yuki tries to run. The purple fire wraps around him, like a cage.
> Yuki's thoughts
I thought I was just some quiet loser stuck in the past.
> I was wrong.
Flashback: 5 years ago. Yuki as a child. His mother smiles at him. Holding his hand.
She starts glowing. Tiny lights rise from her skin. She fades.
Only her voice remains.
> Mother
Remember me... always...
Then she's gone.
Back to present.
The man in black rushes Yuki.
Suddenly, a blast of white light bursts from Yuki's chest. A glowing figure appears. Her voice echoes.
> Voice
Stay away from my son.
The stranger freezes. Shocked.
> Yuki
...Mom?