Part One: The Fire Within
The dawn light filtered weakly through the tall windows of the safe house. Ikris sat cross-legged on the floor, the katana resting across his lap like a silent sentinel. The recent battle with Raze still stung—not just the physical wounds, but the weight of the message. His own family was sending killers after him.
Sevik was nearby, cleaning weapons methodically but his eyes kept flicking toward Ikris. Lyssa paced the small room, her air powers lightly stirring the papers spread across the table—news clippings, digital printouts, and encrypted files they had managed to salvage.
"We need to move," Lyssa said, her voice tight. "They'll keep coming."
Ikris nodded, but inside, a stubborn flame kindled. He clenched his fists, feeling the warmth spread beneath his skin.
"They want to control me," he muttered. "But I'm not a weapon."
Sevik finally spoke, lowering his gun. "Then what are you?"
Ikris looked up, meeting his friend's gaze. "Something they never expected. I'm going to find out the truth behind Project Ignis. No matter what."
Lyssa stopped pacing, eyes fierce. "You're not alone."
For the first time in weeks, Ikris felt a flicker of hope. The fight ahead was long, but he wasn't facing it blind.
The plan was set. They would travel to an abandoned Igan facility—rumored to hold records and evidence of the Emberseed experiments. It was dangerous, but staying still meant death.
That night, under cover of darkness, the trio slipped away, cloaked in silence and urgency.
The abandoned facility was a concrete monolith swallowed by creeping vines and rust. Inside, the stale air smelled of decay and secrets.
As Ikris moved through the dark corridors, his katana's blade glowed faintly, the flames reacting to the heavy tension. Screens flickered on when Lyssa hacked into the system, revealing files long buried.
Images of children, lab notes, experiment results—all chronicling Project Ignis. Ikris's heart pounded with every detail, every cruel test.
"Why did they do this to us?" Lyssa whispered.
"Because power is the ultimate currency," Ikris replied. "And they wanted to sell it."
The data revealed more than just experiments—it implicated powerful figures in the Igan corporation, including his own father.
Suddenly, a low rumble shook the building. The old security system reactivated, locking down the exits.
"Trap," Sevik growled.
They braced for another fight, flames flickering, wind stirring. But this time, it wasn't soldiers who arrived—it was a warning from within the family.
A voice crackled through the speakers, cold and familiar: "Ikris, you don't understand what you're playing with. Stop digging, or you'll burn everything."
Ikris's grip on the katana tightened, the fire roaring in response.
"I'm done hiding," he said. "I'm going to burn the truth into the light."
Part Two: Quiet Sparks
Back in the relative safety of a small rented apartment away from the estate, the trio tried to catch their breath.
Despite the looming threats, normal life refused to pause.
Ikris found himself staring out the window, watching rain blur the city's neon glow. He was no longer the carefree heir he'd been before all this started. The weight of legacy and rebellion sat heavy on his shoulders.
Sevik was in the kitchen, preparing simple food. The clatter of dishes was oddly comforting. "You need to eat," he said, breaking the silence.
Ikris accepted the bowl of rice quietly.
Lyssa, meanwhile, was quietly scrolling through her phone, occasionally glancing at the others with an unreadable expression.
Later that evening, they gathered in the cramped living room. Ikris pulled out his katana, running his fingers over the worn leather handle.
"It feels different now," he said softly. "Like it's part of me... and also something I have to fight against."
Sevik chuckled. "It's always been you. The blade just listens better now."
Lyssa smirked. "You two are hopeless romantics."
Ikris smiled faintly—small moments like these were rare and precious.
The conversation turned to lighter things—movies, music, the city's strange blend of old traditions and new tech. For a while, the world outside didn't seem so threatening.
But as night deepened, so did their thoughts.
Lyssa broke the quiet. "Why did your father send you to that task force, anyway? If he's part of the conspiracy, why not just keep you locked away?"
Ikris looked away. "Maybe... he wanted to see if I could survive it. Or maybe he's trying to protect me by controlling the fire."
Sevik shrugged. "Sometimes family's a mess. The only thing you can control is what you do next."
Before sleep claimed them, Ikris took a moment alone on the tiny balcony.
The city lights shimmered below, distant yet vivid.
He closed his eyes, feeling the heat inside him, steady and alive.
No longer a weapon. Not just a legacy.
A flame with a purpose.