Asher smelled it before he understood it.
It wasn't smoke this time. It wasn't the scent of burning wood or scorched air. It was heavier—metallic, sharp, mixed with salt.
Blood.
But he didn't know that yet.
He was running.
His feet never touched the ground, yet he was moving, rushing down a long corridor swallowed in shadow. The walls were dark, stretching endlessly. At the end of it, a trembling light flickered.
There was a sound.
Crying.
Then the world shifted.
He wasn't running anymore.
He was standing still.
In front of him—his father.
Adrian Ashborne was on his knees.
In his arms was Lyra.
Lyra Ashborne.
His mother.
Her silver hair spilled across the floor like fallen threads of moonlight. Red stained her dress. Too much red. Asher tried to look away, but he couldn't. His body felt frozen, suspended between movement and nothingness.
Adrian was crying.
Asher had never seen his father like this. Adrian was always composed. Steady. Unshaken.
Now his shoulders trembled.
"Lyra… Lyra…"
His voice was broken.
Then Adrian lifted his head.
His eyes weren't looking at Asher.
They were staring into emptiness.
And he whispered:
"…It was because of me… because of me…"
The words echoed.
Lyra's lips trembled slightly, as if she wanted to say something. No sound came out. Her eyes remained half-open.
Asher tried to step forward.
He wanted to scream.
"Mom!"
But there was no voice.
No body.
He was only watching.
And everything slowly began to fade.
His father's sobs grew distant. His mother's hair dissolved into darkness. The red turned into gray.
Ash.
Then a voice pierced the silence.
"Asher…"
Far away.
"Asher…"
Closer.
"ASHER!"
Asher gasped.
His eyes snapped open to blinding white light. The ceiling above him hurt his vision. His head throbbed. His chest felt heavy.
Someone was sitting beside him.
Vale.
Vale Ashborne.
His older brother's eyes were red, swollen. He had been crying for a long time. His hands were shaking.
"Asher…"
Asher's lips moved weakly.
"Where… am I?"
His voice was dry. Fragile.
Vale closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength.
"We're at the hospital."
Asher glanced around. White walls. Machines. Sterile air. A bandage wrapped around his head.
It wasn't a dream.
"…Mom?"
The word escaped like a fragile breath.
Vale looked away.
In that moment, he didn't look sixteen. He looked small. Broken.
"Asher…" His voice cracked. "Dad… killed Mom."
The sentence hung in the air.
Asher didn't understand at first. His mind refused to process it.
"Dad…?"
Vale nodded, tears spilling again.
"I saw it… He was holding her… There was blood…"
The dream flashed through Asher's mind.
His father.
The blood.
"It was because of me…"
Tears began falling from Asher's eyes before he realized he was crying.
"No…" he whispered. "No…"
Vale leaned forward and held him. The two brothers clung to each other in a room that felt too white, too empty.
After a while, the door opened.
Adrian Ashborne stepped inside.
He was calm.
Too calm.
His eyes were not red anymore. He didn't look like a man who had cried.
But something inside him had died.
Vale stood up.
"Why?"
It wasn't a question.
It was an accusation.
"Why, Dad?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Asher forced himself up from the bed. His body was weak, but his eyes burned.
"I'll destroy you!" he shouted.
The machines beside him rattled. The window trembled.
Fourteen years old—and something in his voice carried unnatural force.
Adrian looked at him.
Their eyes met.
There was no anger in Adrian's gaze.
Only guilt.
And something heavier.
His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something.
He didn't.
He turned around.
And left.
The door closed.
And with that sound, childhood ended.
Weeks passed.
The news reported Lyra Ashborne's death as a "tragic domestic incident." Adrian Ashborne disappeared soon after. The investigation never deepened. Questions remained unanswered.
Vale and Asher were alone.
But they were not ordinary children.
When anger surged through them, the air shifted. Asher's emotions made objects tremble. Vale moved faster than he should have been able to.
The world did not ignore children like them.
One day, men in dark suits entered the hospital room.
They did not introduce themselves.
They simply said:
"The World Heroes Union will ensure your protection."
Protection.
The word felt hollow.
They were taken to a vast complex of steel and glass. High walls. Heavy gates. Inside were other children—some afraid, some hardened.
Vale remained silent.
Asher kept repeating a sentence in his mind.
"I'll destroy you."
But every time he did, another voice echoed beneath it.
"It was because of me…"
If his father had killed her—
Why was he crying?
If he was a murderer—
Why did he blame himself?
Something didn't fit.
But one thing was certain.
That night, something burned.
And the ashes were still inside him.
The Ashborne family carried ash in their veins.
And one day—
It would ignite again.