"Everyone wants power. No one asks what it costs."
— Instructor Yna Virell, Ash Guard
---
Renzo's vision blurred as the train exited the tunnel.
For the past two hours, he had sat in silence — fingers tapping the worn seat, heart pounding beneath his hoodie. The woman who came for him hadn't said much. Just her name:
Yna Virell.
Ash Guard, mid-rank. Cold stare.
Worse than the flame? Her sarcasm.
They were heading toward the Ignis Dominion's southern intake station, just outside the public eye — buried beneath the ruins of an old steel factory.
"Still breathing?" Yna asked flatly.
Renzo looked up. "Barely."
She didn't smile. "Good. You'll need breath where you're going."
The train slowed. Then stopped.
A click. A hiss.
And the door opened into darkness.
---
INTAKE GATE – IGNIS DOMINION, SOUTH BASE
Renzo stepped out and was hit by the scent of ash and old iron. Everything smelled like a forge that had been burning for centuries.
The tunnel ahead was lined with glowing glyphs. The temperature rose as they walked deeper. Symbols on the walls flickered when they passed — reacting to flame signatures.
He felt it.
The air here wasn't just hot.
It was alive.
"Don't talk. Just walk," Yna said, hands in her coat pockets. "Your flame's raw. It's leaking off you like steam. People will smell it."
Renzo gritted his teeth. "Is that… bad?"
Yna stopped. Turned to him.
"It means two things. One — you're not in control. Two — someone will want to use that."
---
TRAINING CHAMBER - "THE FORGE"
They entered a massive hall with a black steel floor. Fire pits burned in the corners. Dozens of initiates trained in pairs — sparring, screaming, some already armored in early flame forms. Most had glowing eyes. Some bore burns on their arms, and didn't care.
Yna stepped forward. "This is the Forge. Your hell for the next 60 days."
An instructor — huge, built like a boulder, stepped toward them. His skin was etched with burn marks that looked deliberate.
"You the wild ignition?"
Renzo nodded.
The man barked a laugh. "You look like someone a candle could beat."
"Thanks…"
"I'm Instructor Dal. You'll be dying under my supervision."
Renzo blinked. "Wait, wha—"
Dal shoved a gauntlet into Renzo's chest. It was obsidian black, etched with veins of glowing crimson.
"Put this on. Step onto the pad. We're testing your flame."
---
IGNITION TEST – FLAME INDEX PAD
Renzo stood in the middle of a glowing circle. His palm was strapped to a panel. The room dimmed. A synthetic voice spoke:
"Initiate flame release. Emotional trigger required."
Renzo looked at Yna, who only folded her arms.
He closed his eyes. He thought of his father.
No — what was left of him.
The night his father vanished.
The men who came to their house.
The neighbors who said nothing.
He remembered that feeling — helplessness turned to hate. The fire that first ignited behind his ribs.
FSSHH.
The pad lit up.
A blast of red fire surged from his palm.
The monitors screamed to life.
> FLAME COLOR: RED – 74% stability.
> EMOTIONAL TYPE: Grief-Anger hybrid.
> Flame Pressure: Level 3.1 – Moderate potential.
> Anomaly detected: latent resonance spike. Recalibrating…
Renzo opened his eyes.
Dal was staring.
"…What does that mean?" Renzo asked.
Yna's eyes narrowed. "You burned too clean."
Dal stepped forward. "Kid, most Red-class initiates flicker like candles. Yours roared like it wanted to eat the sky."
"But it's just red—"
"Not just red," Yna cut in. "You skipped the usual chaos. No flame sputter. No backlash. That's... not normal."
Dal scratched his jaw.
"I've seen one other flame like that," he said. "Long ago. During the Cataclysm."
---
LATER THAT NIGHT – INITIATE DORMS
Renzo lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling. The room smelled like smoke and sweat and something older. His chest still felt heavy.
From the bunk across, someone whispered:
"You're the new kid?"
Renzo sat up.
A guy his age leaned forward. Shaved head, tattoos down his left arm — all fire sigils.
"Name's Kael. Blue flame. Been here six months."
"…Renzo," he replied.
Kael grinned. "You'll be dead by sunrise unless you learn fast."
"Thanks for the warm welcome."
"You ever had a flame backlash?"
"…No."
Kael's eyes widened. "Then pray you never do."
He pointed at the long scar running down his ribs.
"Flame turned on me once. Burned through my own lungs. Couldn't breathe for a week."
Renzo stared.
What the hell did I get myself into?
---
MEANWHILE – DEEP WITHIN THE ASHEN SPIRE
Verus L'Zhael stood before a celestial mirror, watching flames dance across its surface — fragments of Renzo's ignition.
"Void resonance," he muttered.
A crack spread across the mirror, but he didn't flinch.
"He's the one," Verus said to the stars.
"But he doesn't deserve it."
His voice trembled — not with fear. With envy.
With a flick of his finger, a star blade appeared at his side.
"If the heavens deny me the Void... then I will tear it from that mortal's corpse myself."
---
To be continue...