The dawn broke over Ember Ruins, painting the sky in shades of blood-orange and gold. Smoke curled lazily from the small village, rising like ghostly fingers toward the clouds. Birds that had once sung here now fled in silence, leaving only the whisper of wind through scorched timbers.
Ryo Kazanari crouched in the rubble, his hands pressed against the earth. His chest burned—not from the fire around him, but from the fury and pain that clawed at his very soul. He had seen his village, his friends, his family, all reduced to ash.
A crackling heat surged through him. It was instinctual, uncontrollable. The Phoenix Essence within him stirred. A deep, primal energy he didn't fully understand coursed from his core, up through his limbs, into his veins.
He screamed—not in fear, but in defiance.
The flames erupted. They weren't ordinary fire. They shimmered with a spiritual glow, red and gold, flickering with shapes that resembled wings. They licked at the scorched earth, searing the shadowy remnants of Kurojin Akabane's divine assault.
Ryo's vision blurred as the flames expanded, scattering the tendrils of shadow creeping from the ruins. He could feel them, these remnants of essence, clawing at his life force—but with each heartbeat, the fire within him absorbed their energy, twisting it into something new, something terrifyingly powerful.
When the smoke finally settled, the village lay in ruin, yet the shadow tendrils that had threatened to devour him were gone. Ryo fell to his knees, panting. His hands were blistered, his chest heaving, and a strange, heavy fatigue pressed on his mind.
But he had survived. And something else had survived too—the Phoenix Essence. A fire now awakened in him, and it would not be denied.
Above him, the sky shimmered faintly, as if the world itself had taken notice. This was only the beginning.
Ryo Kazanari, scarred and trembling, whispered into the empty air:
"I… will never let this happen again."
The first seed of a hero was planted in the ashes.