Xanxus looked towards the sky and grasped his fists in a clenching motion. Several months had past since he had been defeated by the 'worthless' Sawada Tsunayoshi. The Sky Ring had rejected him and on top of that, his flames were temporarily sealed. At request from the 9th, Xanxus and the rest of the Varia were pardoned for their crimes. The only condition was for the Varia to remain loyal to the Vongola. But at the same time, that did not mean they had to be loyal to the 10th.

The pale moon reflected in Xanxus' red eyes and created a beautiful effect. He was not smiling or showing any emotion. He would not show it, no, he would defiantly never tell anyone, that the battle had changed him to an extent. His heart burned with a passion consumed by the rage of before, but it was much more calm. The calmness of his inner being refined his anger and polished it, creating a fiercer flame. But at the moment, Xanxus had not the strength to scream, his injuries far too much. He could still hardly move the hand that the Ring had rejected, but he had been told it would heal if he was lucky.

Reaching for the glass of Wine nearby, Xanxus took a long sip and stared into the glass. The liquid was red as blood and his face reflected into the glass. Seeing himself like this angered him greatly as he gritted his teeth and took a step back, letting the Wine glass fall unto the rough stone of the deck of his mansion. Who was the man he saw in the glass… and why did he look so sad? This was not Xanxus. He cursed Tsunayoshi for turning him into this pathetic creature wallowing in his own self pity, gritting his teeth and slamming his injured hands into the ground.

Fire had begun to seep from his hands as a spark caught fire to the garden near the deck and within minutes, the entire mansion was caught on fire. Standing up one more time, he heard the screams of his body guards being burned by his own flame, as they could not put out a flame of his level. Xanxus stared into the flame and saw himself reflected in it, he realized something as well. It doesn't matter. He was still himself and his flames of Rage will never be extinguished. The fire spread on until his Mansion was nothing more than ashes. His clothes were burned and his face was charred, but he was alive. And so was his flame.