Warm light poured across the village path. Children laughed in the distance. Chickens clucked lazily, and the air carried the smell of fresh bread and firewood.
Matsu blinked.
He stood in the center of the farm village, barefoot, clean, whole. He turned — and there they were.
"Jinto!" he called out, grinning. His old classmate turned and waved.
"Rika! Lolo!"
They laughed together like no time had passed at all, like it was still a normal day.
His heart swelled.
He turned and ran up the hill, wind pushing at his back. His boots didn't drag. His chest didn't ache. Every step felt light, free.
The scent hit him before he even reached the house — something delicious. Was that… meat stew?
"Matsu!" a familiar voice called from ahead.
He looked up.
Grandpa Salatin stood on the porch, arms crossed, his smile warm and wide. "Took you long enough."
"I'm finally home," Matsu breathed, tears threatening behind his smile.
He ran toward him — faster, faster.
But then—his foot caught.
He stumbled, falling forward with a gasp.
The ground rushed up to meet him. His eyes shut.
The laughter was still there — Salatin's, all of them — echoing warmly through the air.
Matsu's eyes snapped open—
Fire.
Flames crackled around him. Heat pressed against his skin. Smoke filled the sky. The village — their farmhouse — was ablaze. The same fields he just saw alive were now burning husks.
He lay on the ground, ontop of the hill, mouth agape.
His wide eyes reflected the fire.
"No…" he whispered.
The wind howled. The same wind that once carried laughter now screamed through scorched air.
His grandfather's laugh.
"A fire!!?. His eyes widened
His eyes widened; his chest rose and fell as he stared out over the valley below. The scene before him was something out of a nightmare.
The village, his family's farm—their farm—was engulfed in flames.
The inferno lit up the night, turning the familiar landscape into a scene of destruction. The fire, a bright, searing orange, stretched across the fields. It devoured everything in its path against the deep black sky. The crops, which swayed in the breeze yesterday, now stood as blackened silhouettes. The fire had swallowed them.
But his mind shifted to something more important.
Grandpa
He galloped down the hill, forcing Caesar to go as fast as he could. He felt the heat as he came closer. Coughing smoke that would go straight to his face. But he could only think of one thing: his grandpa.
He arrived close to the inferno, too close for Caesar to continue; he dismounted and ran on foot. The ground was hot. Smoke filled his lungs, making it hard to breathe.
He was now where their gate used to be; flames struck him, threatening him not to come any closer.
Grandpa! he screamed, hoping an answer would come.
"Grandpa, everyone, come out!" he screamed, trying to barge into the wall of fire, but he kept getting denied.
With desperation in his eyes, he tried to put out the fire with his hands, pitifully swatting at the flames. He then tried to use his shovel, but that too would not bring him success.
He stared hopelessly as the raging flames destroyed his beloved farm, all of his friends, his home.
He had to do something, but what?
His mind scrambled when an idea struck him.
My powers, the powers I somehow attained and used against that captain. It did stop that bastard's flame for a moment; it could help me now.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and envisioned that same feeling he felt before. It was a chaotic, electric, and alive energy. Come on, he urged without speaking, trying to feel that familiar hum beneath his skin. Just let it flow.
But nothing happened. The air remained still, charged with his unspoken desperation. He clenched his fists. Trying to channel all his willpower to summon a hidden force. The flames danced around him. They mocked his failure. They whispered doubts that seeped into his mind.
"Why would it not work?" he bit his lip in frustration as tears appeared in his eyes.
"Why!?" he screamed. Clenching his head tears running down his cheeks.
He collapsed, kneeling before the fire, almost begging it to release his grandpa.
Exhausted, he felt the smoke strangling him. As burn marks started to appear on his body.
He looked down at the ground. As a tear fell to the ground, another one followed. It kept pouring tears onto the ground. It was then that he would start feeling them at the back of his head.
It started to rain.
The rain kept pouring down, extinguishing the flames of its wrath. But the rain would come too late for when the fire started to disappear and the smoke to clear. Was the boy horrified to see that everything was gone? The whole village, the house they lived in, the farm they worked a. It was all gone. It felt like the rain taunted him, that when the rain finally came, it was to late.
Then he saw it, the one thing that crushed his entire world.
A ring.
His grandpa's wedding ring, the only thing that wasn't burned down, the thing that grandpa cherished the most.
He got up from his knees, taking back the breaths he lost. He began to walk, dragging with every step, toward the shining item. Grandpa must have dropped it, he had to get it for him.
It felt like the ring was hypnotizing him, telling him to come closer. He was about to grasp in when he took another step, when he tripped on stone, collapsing with a thud, burrowing his face to the ground, clutching the ring in his hand.
He was waiting for his grandpa to appear, to hear his laugh.
A sob tore through him, sharp and raw, the kind of sound that came from somewhere too deep to name.
"Grandpa," he whispered, his voice breaking, barely audible as it mixed with the dirt. His fingers clawed at the earth, pulling at the dry, cracked soil that once had been rich under his grandfather's care. It finally hit him. Now it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers—his hands couldn't hold anything, couldn't save anything. Not even the farm. Not even him.
The tears came harder now, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. His face stayed pressed into the dirt, uncaring that it stung his eyes, that it filled his mouth when he gasped for air. His chest ached, the sobs shaking him violently as he cried, but it wasn't enough to release the pain. It was too much. It was so frustrating, so unfair. Why would this happen, why would this happen to them of all people? They didn't have much to begin with, and now it was all taken away.
His breath hitched as the sobs overtook him, leaving his lungs gasping for air in shallow, panicked bursts. His body convulsed, pressing harder into the earth as if the ground itself could hold him together But the world felt too heavy, the burden too much. The edges of his vision blurred, narrowing into dark, wavering tunnels. His fingers clawed the dirt one last time before they fell limp. The boy's world faded to black, his body giving in to exhaustion and grief.
***
When he finally stirred, it wasn't the comforting scent of earth or the whisper of rain that greeted him. Instead, there was something rough binding his wrists, biting into his skin. His head throbbed, his vision blurry as he blinked himself into consciousness.
The first thing he noticed was the cold—a sharp, metallic chill against his cheek. He was lying on a floor, and it wasn't dirt. It was stone, unforgiving, and slick with moisture. He tried to move, but his arms were tied behind his back. Panic surged through him, his chest tightening as the memory of the fire, the farm, and his grandfather's absence crashed back into him. His fingers twitched, feeling for the ring he had clutched so tightly.
It wasn't there.
He wasn't here
The boy lay still on the cold stone floor, the weight of his grief pressing him deeper into the unyielding surface. His body felt leaden, unresponsive as if it had given up along with his spirit. He stared at nothingness, his eyes unfocused, dulled by the emptiness that had hollowed him out. The fire, the farm, the memories—all gone. And now even the ring, the last fragile tether to his grandfather, was lost.
His lips parted in a shallow gasp, his breath barely audible, as if he couldn't muster the strength to draw in enough air. His chest rose and fell, but it felt meaningless. The world around him was dark and cold, but it was no colder than the void inside him. He wanted to cry again, to scream, to rage, but his body wouldn't allow it. The tears had dried, leaving behind only a crushing numbness.
For a moment, he thought about staying there forever—letting the stone beneath him become his grave, letting the memories of what he'd lost bury him entirely. What was the point of getting up? There was nothing left to return to, nothing to fight for. He thought of his grandfather's laughter, but instead of comfort, it brought a fresh wave of agony. It was like a wound being torn open again and again, but he couldn't even bleed anymore. He was spent, empty, a husk.
His fingers twitched again, almost involuntarily. The phantom weight of the ring still lingered, an ache in his palm where he'd once clutched it so desperately. He let his hand go limp again, the effort too much. The ring was gone, just like everything else. What was the point in holding on to anything if it could all be taken away so easily?
How could he let this happen, the only thing he wanted in life had been snatched away. He had no breathtaking goal or dream. The only thing he wanted, was to live at the farm with his grandpa.
Why was he so weak? If he was just stronger then he would have been able to protect everything.
His mind was engulfed with regret, that he didn't notice the man confronting him.
"how pitiful"
that voice.
He gazed upwards to see where the voice came from.
A cold set of eyes met him, looking down on him, mocking him, just like those flames.
At that moment he understood everything that happened.
It was him, wasn't it. His motionless face hid away the rage.
He was the one who burned it down, him down…..
MY LIFE DOWN!
He jumped up to his feet the chains barely containing him..
They exchanged glances, the boy burning his eyes into Erber, his eyes doing the talk, not even needing to say a word.
Erber didn't falter staring back with his emotionless cold eyes, until he turned around and walked away, closing the cell door behind him, as he felt the stares on his back.
Outside the two lackeys met him, both saluting him. Erber didn't acknowledge them, continuing to walk away. Catching them off guard.
"Wait! But what about our orders?!!
"Yeah, shouldn't he be up for a public execution?"
" He is not worth the time"
"then by you–
" HE is not worth it"
Erber simply said walking away. Leaving the soldier confused.
"Tch, the captain is pretty strange sometimes isn't he" Oldot said looking at Babel who was quite.
"Ehh?, what's the matter," he asked, annoyed.
" Nothing, it's just…. Babel said, his voice was filled with shakiness.
"At the farm, when we retrieved the boy, did you see IT?
"mmh?, see what?" Oldot said confused, not entirely interested.
A hole, no… like a crater, there was a crater in the earth, almost like something came from—
"I didn't see any damn crater, you are probably imagining things, have you gotten no sleep lately"?" Oldot reassured him.
"Yeah, yeah I guess," Babel said, scratching his head.