They saw the smoke before they heard the chants.
A slow, rising column of gray spiraled into the sky like a signal — or a warning. It drifted from a hilltop settlement that didn't exist on any of their maps.
Li Wei stood at the ridge, eyes narrowed.
Rui beside him, still and quiet.
Chen Yu behind, whistling a twisted hymn.
"Doesn't smell like firewood," Chen Yu said. "Smells like burnt conviction."
The chanting rose louder.
Low. Rhythmic. Measured like a hammer hitting flesh.
The Flame-Kissed Village
They reached it by dusk.
A walled compound of timber and stone, surrounded by sharpened stakes. Flags fluttered — scorched black with red crosses painted in blood.
A massive wooden gate stood half-open. Smoke drifted through.
And inside… the chanting.
Hundreds of voices, male and female, old and young, chanting in unison around a burning pyre.
At the center of the flames was a zombie — restrained with chains, burning but still twitching, its face half-recognizable as a human. A child once. Now, a symbol.
Above the fire stood a man.
Robed in charred linen.
A mask of melted gold over his face.
And a torch in one hand.
He raised both arms and declared:
"The Ash shall purify.
The Flame shall separate.
The Unclean shall be undone!"
The crowd roared.
"Cleanse them all!
They were spotted quickly.
Guards in armor fashioned from melted metal and bones approached — but did not attack. They merely watched, then bowed.
"You walk under the Ember's gaze," one said. "Follow. The Shepherd has seen you in his fire."
Chen Yu whispered, "I already don't like this."
Li Wei nodded.
But they followed.
Through rows of kneeling believers, up crumbling stone steps, until they reached the wooden platform overlooking the pyre.
The gold-masked man turned.
He removed his mask slowly.
And smiled.
He had no eyes. Only empty sockets filled with black ash.
His skin was smooth, unnaturally healed, like melted candle wax.
"I am Shepherd Eli," he said, voice soft as a lullaby. "And you… are the ones from the Vault."
Li Wei's hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his blade. "You've heard of us."
Eli nodded. "The fire told me."
They were brought into a prayer hall — if you could call it that.
It was a temple made of bones and melted steel, with murals painted in blood: flames engulfing cities, angels of ash rising from the dead, and the world reborn through suffering.
Eli sat upon a cracked stone throne.
Rui stared at him, eyes narrow.
"You hate the infected," she said.
Eli smiled. "I hate no one. I only cleanse. Those whom the fire deems unworthy… must return to ash."
"What about the children?" Rui asked coldly. "The ones like me?"
Eli's smile faded.
"You… are something else. You are the catalyst."
Li Wei stepped forward. "What do you mean?"
Eli leaned forward, and suddenly he was whispering.
"Three were chosen. Vault-born. One silent. One smiling. One… fractured."
His blind gaze moved to Rui.
"You are the crack in the god-machine's design. And the flame fears you."
Rui's hands clenched.
Chen Yu clapped once. "Okay. Time to leave."
But the guards had already locked the doors behind them.
Eli raised his hands.
"Stay the night," he said. "Let the fire speak to you. You may yet be reborn."
They were given a room. Bare. Stone walls. One torch. No windows.
Li Wei sat against the door, blade in hand.
Chen Yu lay on the floor, whispering to himself, "This is how cult horror movies start, you know."
Rui stared at the flame in the torch.
Its color flickered red… then green… then black.
It spoke to her in thoughts.
"Little ghost.
Little sin.
They will burn you from within."
Rui whispered, "I'm not yours."
But the flame only laughed.