When Kaito opened his eyes, the world was unrecognizable.
The sky above him pulsed red — a wound stretched across the heavens. The sun was gone, replaced by three crimson rings that burned like watchful eyes. The air was thick with dust and heat, and where the Obsidian Spire had stood, there was only a vast crater lined with molten glass.
He tried to rise, but pain rippled through him — not the pain of flesh, but something deeper. His heartbeat was no longer steady; it echoed like a second pulse, alien and immense, as though another being breathed inside him.
He looked at his hands.
They glowed faintly — lines of light tracing beneath his skin like living fire.
For the first time, he saw his reflection in the blackened pool beside him.
His eyes were no longer human.
One burned blue, the other crimson — like twin echoes of the two flames that had shaped the world: Yù Lóng's sacred fire and the Null Flame that devours it.
"Kaito?"
The voice was distant — soft, broken. Eira's.
He turned. She stood on the ridge above him, armor cracked, face streaked with soot and blood. Relief flooded his chest.
"You're alive," he whispered.
"Barely." She climbed down, limping, her blade dragging behind her. "What… happened? The Spire—it vanished, and the sky…" She trailed off, staring at his glowing hands. "…Kaito, what did you do?"
"I don't know." He swallowed. "Lyra—she said the fire inside me once loved her. That it remembered her."
Eira's expression hardened. "Then whatever she's awakened in you—it's not done."
Before Kaito could respond, the wind shifted. A low hum filled the air — the same tone that had echoed in the Spire, now stretching across the dead valley.
From the crater's edge, shadows began to move.
Figures crawled out of the molten rock — bodies twisted, burned, yet walking. Their faces were hollow, eyes glowing faintly red. They whispered one word over and over in a dead tongue:
"Return."
Eira raised her sword. "The Gravespawn survived the blast?"
"No," Kaito said quietly, his voice trembling as he felt the pulse within him respond to their cries. "They're not attacking."
The creatures knelt before him.
One by one.
Eira's breath caught. "They're… bowing to you."
Kaito stepped back, shaking his head. "No, that's impossible. They serve the Null Flame. I'm not—"
But before he could finish, the mark on his palm flared, and the Gravespawn echoed in unison,
"Heir of the First Flame."
The ground shuddered. The air trembled.
Kaito's vision blurred — the world shifting between two realities:
In one, he saw the ashen wasteland.
In the other, a great citadel burning, dragons screaming, and a man standing atop a throne of fire — wearing his face.
The image shattered with a sound like cracking glass.
Eira grabbed his shoulders. "Kaito! Focus!"
He gasped, eyes wide with terror. "I saw… me. But not me. A dragonfire crown. A city burning. I think… I think I destroyed it."
Eira stared at him, speechless.
Then, before either could speak, a voice drifted from the crimson sky — calm, beautiful, and cold.
"You remember fragments. That is enough… for now."
They both looked up.
Descending through the burning air was a figure of impossible grace — wings of pure light, feathers dissolving into ash as they fell.
It was Lyra, but changed. Her form shimmered between human and divine, her face unreadable.
"The Null Flame has chosen its vessel," she said. "You've already begun to awaken it."
"I didn't ask for this!" Kaito shouted.
"No one ever does," Lyra replied softly. "But you bear the heart that once broke the heavens. Whether you accept it or not, you are the spark that will reignite the war."
Eira stepped between them. "You'll have to go through me first."
Lyra smiled faintly. "How touching. You think loyalty can stop prophecy."
Flames gathered around her hand, spiraling into a lance of silver fire. "Come then, warrior. Let's see what your faith is worth."
The ground split open as Lyra struck.
Eira blocked, the impact hurling her backward into the crater's wall.
Kaito's instincts flared — the fire inside him awakening, reshaping. His skin burned with light, and wings of raw energy burst from his back — half light, half shadow.
Lyra hesitated.
"Ah," she whispered, eyes wide. "So the Heart remembers its wings."
Before she could move again, Kaito leapt forward — their flames colliding in a blinding flash that tore the sky open.
The blast echoed across the dead plains, shattering mountains, parting the red clouds for a single heartbeat — revealing the faint shimmer of another city far beyond the horizon.
Not ruins.
Alive.
Glowing gold beneath the crimson sky.
Lyra's eyes widened. "No… it can't be."
But Kaito saw it too — and deep inside, something ancient stirred.
A single name rose unbidden to his lips — one he didn't understand but felt:
"Aetherion."
The word rippled through the air like thunder.
The Gravespawn howled. The sky cracked.
And then, silence.
When the light faded, Lyra was gone. Eira lay unconscious beside the crater.
And Kaito stood alone, staring at the golden light far away.
He whispered to himself, voice trembling:
"What is Aetherion… and why does it feel like home?"