The ground beneath my feet breathed living ash — every step I took released a moan that sounded like the cry of something ancient.
The sky didn't move, frozen like a canvas of flame, and the heat didn't burn the body — it seeped straight into the soul.
Before me stood the gray girl, her hair drifting lightly as if made of smoke.
She spoke in a calm, emotionless tone:
> "This is the First World — the cradle of all fire's curses.
Here, souls begin their journey… toward burning or salvation."
I looked around — no city, no people, only ash stretching endlessly to the horizon.
I asked, "Why am I here?"
She smiled faintly, her gray eyes shining like burning snow:
> "Because the fire chose you.
Every heir must pass through its seven worlds.
In each one, you'll burn more… to learn what remains of your humanity."
Before I could respond, she pressed her palm to the ground.
The ash trembled and cracked, and from the fissures rose black flames forming in circles.
From those circles emerged faceless creatures — beings of shadow and ember — crawling toward me as if they knew my name.
The girl said coldly:
> "Fight them… Let the fire decide whether you're worthy of being called an Heir."
The monsters advanced, their voices echoing like a collective wail of lost souls.
I raised my hand — the black fire answered instantly, but it wasn't the same as before; it was wilder, deeper… almost joyful at the coming blood.
I screamed, and the fire erupted around me like a storm.
The ash turned into blades of dark flame, circling me like the guardians of hell.
Each strike felled a creature, and with every fall, the fire grew stronger.
Then suddenly — the fire screamed inside me.
A searing pain pierced my chest, and within the blaze, I saw flashes of my past — my family, our home, the blood that stained the ground.
I fell to my knees as the flames began to consume me this time.
A voice of shadow echoed in my mind:
> "I warned you… every life you take, the fire devours a part of yours."
Before darkness took me, I saw the gray girl step closer, her eyes glimmering with something that almost resembled sorrow.
She whispered:
> "If you wish to survive… make the fire see you not as fuel — but as its master."
Then the blackness swallowed me whole.