The night burned.
Smoke coiled over shattered rooftops as crimson sparks drifted through the air like dying fireflies. The village on the outskirts of Kepler's Province was nothing but ash and echo now — silent, except for the crackle of flames and the crunch of boots crushing embers.Through the smoke walked a lone figure. His coat was torn, his breath steady, his eyes dimly glowing violet beneath the shadow of his hood. Tylon — the Black Flame user of the Pyro Corps.Ahead stood his opponent — Ranzar "The Crimson Bandit", a Burned Out enforcer, his eyes wild and his fists blazing with furious red fire. The flames around him shimmered with intensity, warping the air like a living storm.
Ranzar smirked.
"So they finally sent someone worth my time. The Corps' black sheep, huh? I heard your flames don't even burn right, what a pathetic looser."
Tylon's voice came low and calm.
"They burn enough to erase mistakes."
He slid his right foot back, flames snaking up his arm — deep black fire edged with faint streaks of blue.
The air vibrated.
Ranzar lunged first, swinging both arms as he unleashed spiraling arcs of pure red flame. The searing waves shot across the street, melting through the stone road.
Tylon sidestepped, twisting into a low sweep and cutting through the heat with his forearm coated in black fire. Sparks clashed midair as his counter ignited, the collision forming a short-lived firestorm.
Ranzar charged in close — fists blazing — but Tylon was faster.
He blocked the first punch with his elbow, redirected the second, and countered with a sharp knee to Ranzar's gut, followed by a rising uppercut that sent a burst of dark fire upward.
Ranzar staggered back, snarling.
"You think you can match my Crimson Flow?!"
His flames roared hotter, a radiant inferno wrapping him head-to-toe. He threw a wide hook — Tylon leaned back just enough to let the heat graze his face, the air between them shimmering.
Tylon responded instantly.
He spun, black flames twisting around his leg, and landed a clean roundhouse that blasted a shockwave of compressed fire through the street. The impact threw Ranzar across the ground, his flames flickering wildly. Still, he refused to fall.
Ranzar slammed hispalms together, gathering his fire into a dense sphere before launching it like a cannonball.
Tylon didn't move.
He raised his hand, condensed his black flame into a tight orb of his own, and when both collided, the explosion inverted — the red flame vanished, devoured whole by the black fire. The shockwave sucked the air dry, leaving only a burning silence.
Ranzar froze, eyes wide.
"What… what kind of flame devours another flame?"
Tylon stepped forward, eyes gleaming faint violet through the haze.
"The kind that shouldn't exist."
Ranzar lunged again, furious, his fists swinging with desperate speed.
Tylon parried the first blow with his wrist, blocked the next with a rising knee, then forged his flame mid-motion — forming a pair of black flame gauntlets, sharp-edged and glowing faintly white at the seams.
He charged in — every strike precise, relentless.
Left jab. Right cross. Elbow to the ribs. Spinning heel kick.
Each hit released a pulse of black fire that detonated with controlled bursts, scattering glowing embers through the air. Ranzar tried to counter, but every motion met a faster one — every flame he producedwas swallowed by darker fire.
Tylon ended the combo with a crushing palm strike to the chest — the sound like thunder.
Ranzar crashed into a wall, the fire on his body extinguishing instantly.
He coughed, trembling.
"You… you monster."
Tylon stared at him, emotionless.
"No. I'm not a monster, just far from your reach."
He raised one hand — black flame condensed into a small sphere.The orb touched Ranzar's chest, and in a whisper of light, everything vanished — no explosion, no sound, just flame turned to dust.
The battlefield grew quiet again. Only the faint hum of distant fire remained.
Tylon looked down and noticed a fallen Pyro Corps badge half-buried in the ash. He picked it up carefully, his flame dimming to a soft blue-black flicker.
"I told you I'd protect everyone… but I still failed."
The embers drifted upward — each glowing faintly before fading out.
Flashback
The roaring flames faded into the soft light of morning.
A much younger Tylon stood in the Pyro Corps training ground — fists clenched, breathing heavy. Around him, recruits unleashed bursts of flame — red, blue, orange — lighting up the entire field. His own flame sputtered, unstable, black smoke twisting from his palm.
From the sidelines, a senior instructor whispered to another soldier.
"That one… he's dangerous. Black flames never end well, he gives me the creeps."
Laughter followed, but Tylon didn't respond. He simply closed his hand, drawing his fire inward. It flickered once — then steadied, small but alive.He lifted his gaze toward the sky, eyes full of quiet defiance.
One day they'll stop seeing the flame… and start seeing me.
The memory faded — and the scene returned to the silent ruins.
Tylon stood alone amid the smoke, his coat swaying with the dying heat. The Pyro Corps insignia on his shoulder glowed faintly. He fell on his knees filled with despair.
"I'll keep burning… until there's nothing left to burn."
He clenches to the insignia filled again with determination, he stood up,turned and walked away, his shadow disappearing into the flame-lit mist.