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"I mafiusi de la Vicaria"

Part II

The world showed itself with a clarity that made him dizzy. Despite the darkness, Giotto had the impression everything was luminous, that every detail was somehow visible and apparent.

The man gritted his teeth, and without thinking, he lunged towards him with an outstretched arm and a clenched fist. Giotto blinked; in those moments, it seemed to him that his opponent was moving slower than usual, so much that he could see his future movements.

No, it wasn't. The speed was the same; it was his heightened senses that saw him that way.

Without overthinking, the teen dodged the attack more quickly than he thought possible. Taking advantage of the momentum his enemy carried, Giotto held his arm, pulled him down, and with a wave of his hand, hit him in the neck, causing him to lose consciousness and fall to the floor in a noise that echoed through the room.

Yet, a part of Giotto's mind was screaming it wasn't enough. Just knocking him out wasn't enough, not after what he had done, not after the way he threatened, not after the shot, not after all.

The fire in his hands grew and decreased in a kind of constant flashes. His hands trembled. It was the same as that time three years ago: a sort of energy so strong he wasn't sure he could master, one that was spiraling out of control and that needed to bring out, release and-

"Even the resolution itself has its limits," he heard a voice, and then, a hand rested on his shoulder. Giotto turned and met Sepira's blue eyes; she looked at him with a half-smile, "Will without reins is dangerous too. Especially for someone with so much inside of him."

"I..."

"Be calm," Sepira said. "Do not forget your purpose, but not obsess over it. You control the flames; you control the state, not vice versa. I assure you it is not necessary to be on the verge of death to do so."

Resolution.

Will.

And control.

Every time he had entered that strange state, it had been an extreme situation, every time, it had been like an explosion, a giant flare full of energy, but that disappeared in a short time. There was power, yes. But there was no control.

Over his shoulder, Giotto could look at G's face, who, he was sure, was near to having a panic attack. He was worrying him, and it was something he always regretted doing.

Giotto forced himself to try to breathe, forced his mind to stop playing the same scenes in his head, forced himself to try to think more clearly. They were still in danger. They were still in enemy territory; he couldn't get back to normal, not yet. But at least the most imminent threat had passed, and there were more important things to worry about.

Flavio. He was hurt; they needed to get him out of there and heal him.

Piero, and the impending attack on his house.

Giotto gasped, and from one second to another, the fire in his hands disappeared. However, his eyes remained the same vivid orange; his senses remained just as keen, the flame on his forehead still shining, this time, more stable than ever before.

"You learn quickly," Sepira commented while tilting her head. "You are someone of instincts, from what I see."

"Flavio!" ignoring the rest, Giotto ran to where the boy was with his sister, leaving Sepira with her hand extended. The woman blinked, but instead of getting angry, she laughed. Unable to help it, a warm feeling settled in her chest:

Faith.

The world was not so dark, nor human so horrendous. They were complex, and that was their outstanding quality.

"Please let me see him," Giotto asked. Elena looked at him suspiciously, not daring to let go of her little brother, who seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. "I assure you-"

"Do your brother a favor, and let him, little princess," G interrupted, behind him, that unknown young man was looking around with obvious nervousness and rubbing his wrists. G himself looked a bit nervous too, with one hand in one of his pockets and playing with something inside it, but he controlled it well enough not to cloud his mind. "He knows what he's doing."

"But-"

"Look, I'd rather not air my life with people like you, but I suppose saying it will help," G sighed. "Giotto was the one who saved me from bleeding to death from a gunshot wound years ago. Dramatic encounter, not such a nice story. Now, would you let him check Flavio? We didn't save him years ago to watch him die now."

Elena looked at G, and then at Giotto, still with some doubt on her face, but nodded slightly. Giotto sighed in relief and leaned over to look at the boy, who the most he could do was give him a weak smile.

"However, I have to say-"

"Do you still doubt us?" G thought about it for a few moments. "Okay, valid doing it. But even so-"

"No! I mean-"

"The bleeding has stopped," Giotto spoke loudly, not believing what his eyes were seeing, but there it was: The wound was cauterized, closed as if a fire...

Fire.

He understood and turned to see Sepira in amazement. She smiled at him.

"When you touched him. You also closed the wound."

"It would have been more useful and less... visible and risky if my element were another, but who possessed it no longer is here," Sepira said wistfully. "I think it worked."

"It helps," Giotto explained and gave her a half-smile of appreciation. "However, the best thing would be to take him to another less dirty place and check the wound. He may have received more damage than it appeared and-"

"I'm dreaming, am I not?" the strange young man said, bringing his hands to his head. "I'm dreaming; this doesn't make sense." Then, confused, he turned to see G. "And you didn't have something in your hand when you burned the ropes? It was like a ri-

"Shut your mouth."

Suddenly, a thunderous sound interrupted. One that G and Giotto knew quite well, one that made Flavio end up swooning from sheer fear at the memory of the past (and made Elena worry even more about him and even shake him a bit in an attempt to wake him up). One that made everyone froze.

There was no doubt at all:

Shots in the distance.

"W-what happens now?" Elena stuttered.

"It is..."

"An attack," G said, more for himself than for the others. "Someone is attacking. But..." he left the sentence incomplete, turning to see Sepira with suspicion. The woman opened her eyes, showing surprise at the implied accusation.

"I assure you that I have nothing to do with it," she clarified. "When I arrived, there were few men, that's why it was not so difficult to go through them. And-" G growled, doubting even more. Sepira raised her hands and moved them nervously. "When I arrived, there was nothing like that! Although... there were strange sounds... and if you think carefully, it was to be expected considering there weren't a lot of men outside, isn't it?" she bit her lip. "Uh, did I forget something again?"

"What do you mean by forgetting something?!"

More explosions were heard, closer this time, and followed by what could be considered as voices.

G grumbled something under his breath, crouched down, and searched the unconscious man's clothes insistently, almost cursing to find only a broken razor in one of his pockets. With a tic in his eye, he turned to see Giotto, who smiled nervously.

"I shouldn't have broken the gun, right?"

"It would have served a lot if not," G replied, "But come on, how could you know that your hands surrounded by magic fire were going to melt the fucking cannon?"

"In my defense, I really didn't know."

"Don't tell me."

"Wait, wait, attack?" Elena asked in a panic, her lip trembled, and only the concern she felt for her brother was what kept her sane enough not to scream, "Whose attack? Why?"

"God knows," G answered frankly. "An enemy group of the one that kidnapped us, perhaps. The why can go from various reasons since you offended them until they don't like the color of your clothes," he sighed, almost with resignation. "Or perhaps someone told another person that he was short, who knows?"

"What?" Elena blinked. "That sounds very..."

"Stupid? I know."

"It's a chance to go out," Giotto spoke. Although he felt a little nervousness, like a kind of tickling that ran through him, his mind was clear. "Let's use the distraction the attack is to leave. And quick, before the whole battle gets here. Miss," he went to Sepira, who cocked her head with some curiosity, "How long does this state last?"

"Are you not going to doubt me?"

"I have my doubts about how you got here and how you know about the flames," he answered sincerely. "But I don't think you are a bad person."

G snorted. "Understood, understood. If she knows how to defend herself and fight, she can help us get out of here. But after this, I want a good explanation of everything."

Surprised, Sepira turned to see G. He looked angry but without doubts.

She discovered another new emotion that was very difficult to see in those times (and would continue to be challenging to see in the future, she was sure).

Trust.

He trusted Giotto's words. He trusted his judgment to stop doubting her.

A unique pair, those two.

"I will help in what I can," she said, "And the time depends on you. Everything is inside you, remember?"

"Are you sure you can handle it?" G asked skeptically. The look of mistrust made the young man unable to help but open his mouth to complain.

"Of course, I can. It's just carrying a child; it's not that difficult."

"Well, you look like-"

"I'm older than you, why so much doubt?"

"I'm sorry. The fact that during the entire time we've been together, you haven't done much more than speak incoherent words while dying of fear doesn't get out of my head."

"Of course, I did! Who would not be afraid in this situation?! Well..." he hesitated, "Apart from you."

The plan was a simple one: Escape without attracting attention, preferably. Everyone would move in a group, with Giotto and G at the head, Elena and the young man (who was in charge of carrying and taking care of Flavio) in the middle, and Sepira behind. The woman had no problem when they explained how they would move, and even...

She even seemed somewhat excited, which made them wonder what her life was supposed to be like for something like this to exhilarate her.

"Sorry for the inconvenience." Elena apologized to him and made a small bow. She was pale, her face reflected weariness, and her eyes had lost some of the light they had. Something understandable, considering the situation, "If you want, I..."

"Don't worry!" He hastened to answer, "I have a little sister; I don't even want to imagine how horrible you must feel now."

"Oh? And what is her name?"

"Nicoletta," he answered, "Although she is not as young as him. She's even... she's a little older than you, I think."

"And speaking of names, what is yours?" Giotto interrupted, and then, he gave an apologetic smile. "We have been together this time, and we are going to do something too dangerous. It seems to me that the best thing would be to know each other, right?"

"Giotto, could you save the courtesy for later?"

"But G!"

The young man blinked a few times and returned the smile sheepishly.

"I'm Guido," he introduced himself, "Guido Cervello."

"Then we are counting on you, Guido," Giotto encouraged him. The young man nodded, still feeling lost at the sight of that teenager with flashing orange eyes and a flame on his head. It all seemed more like a kind of dream than reality.

G rolled his eyes and directed his steps towards the exit of the room. The red-haired teen checked the surroundings for the last time (no one else had been entered apart from that undesirable man, to whom the courtesy of tying his hands and leaving him unconscious had now been returned, but it didn't hurt to verify that they were alone). He made a sign and left. Giotto followed seconds later.

Elena froze for a few moments. She shook her head, almost furiously, and ran after them.

"Do not stay so far behind; you have my brother, remember!" she yelled. She was discouraged, scared to death, but one of her unique characteristics was that her stubbornness kept her from giving up so easily.

Despite what he had said earlier, Guido could not move as quickly as he expected. Even taking a step was causing him trouble. And that was embarrassing to him. Those two, almost children, carried on with such serenity that the one who seemed to be younger was him. And it was stupid; how could he be so useless?

"Fear is not a bad thing," Sepira's sweet voice took him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see her. "Come on; you're not alone. They look after you, and I too will look after you from behind."

"I'm not as brave as you, miss," he answered honestly. "The courage with which you did face that man, I would never have."

"Courage can also be reckless stupidity," she laughed with shame. "It is something that an acquaintance of mine tells me very often. And he has a good reason for doing so. Worry, fear, all that is also necessary; it is what makes humans and differentiates them from other beings, isn't it?"

Guido cocked his head, then gave a little laugh. Inexplicably, those words reassured him.

"Nice way of saying it's okay to be a coward once in a while."

Another thing that differentiated humans was that they could also be quite fast when it came to running away, as Giotto and G soon discovered when the door to the exit opened, revealing two men who looked both tired and desperate.

"Hey, Carlo, the enemy is almost here! We need to get the hostages out and- What the hell?"

"The hostages got loose!"

Giotto reacted almost automatically, and it didn't take him long to reach the first man in a couple of seconds, who could only open his eyes in surprise before being knocked out by a direct blow to the head. While that was happening, his partner had time to draw his pistol, but before he could even aim, Giotto took advantage of the momentum he was already carrying to turn around and, with the energy gathered, kick him in the legs and made him fall. The gun fell to the ground, and before the man could reach for it, Giotto kicked it and threw it straight to G, who took it and smiled.

"Thanks for not melting it this time."

"I no longer have the flames in my hands. It is not necessary that you-"

"Don't get distracted, fool!"

G shot. The bullet passed Giotto's side and hit the hand of the man who had stood up and held a knife with which he intended to attack. The stranger screamed in pain, and in the next moment, Giotto punched him in the stomach, knocking him out of breath and unconscious.

"Hey..." G blinked. "You're moving very fast, and you have much more strength than usual, is that because of-"

G didn't finish what he said, as he noticed how Giotto staggered and fell to his knees as he brought his hand to his mouth. Without thinking, G ran to him, alarmed.

"Giotto! What's going on?! Did they reach you with a bullet or-"

"G," Giotto whispered, "I feel like I'm going to vomit..." He commented with a nauseous expression that looked almost comical considering the strange state gave him an aura of seriousness. "I think I ran too fast. Is it normal to see that there are two of you?"

G felt a vein throbbing in his forehead, and he restrained the urge to hit his friend on the head.

"Of course, you got dizzy, idiot!" He scolded him, "I understand that you are a... I don't know, a war machine in that state, but your body is not used to that!"

"But-"

"Do I have to remind you how you ended up the other times?!"

"It doesn't cheer me up!"

"It's a shame because-"

"G, watch out!"

Giotto pushed his friend to the side as he moved backward, just in time to dodge a kind of knife thrown at them.

A few meters away, where the exit door was already open, another new enemy glared at them. The man made a gesture of wanting to pull another weapon out of his clothes, but before he did, a most curious object ended up crashing into his face, causing him to have to close his eyes for a while a few seconds to recover from the blow and curse while covering his face.

"Permission is requested before entering!" Elena yelled angrily and with different shades of red adorning her face.

Giotto blinked, and with surprise, he noticed that the girl had thrown her shoe in the man's face. And to his bad luck, it seemed the heel had hit him directly in the nose, causing it to bleed. Giotto couldn't help laughing.

G took advantage of those moments to stand up, and angrily, he kicked the man hard in the abdomen, stopping his complaints and causing him to fall to the ground along with his companions.

G, like Giotto, wasn't of murdering people but simply leave them unconscious. The only times he used his gun was just to stop someone or make them drop a weapon. Just because his family wanted to make him a murderer when he was a kid didn't mean that now when he grew up, he really would have to be one.

Then, a new explosion. And this time was so close that even some of the dust from outside entered through the door. G clicked his tongue.

"From what they shouted, the battle has been going on for a long time. That's why neither Flavio nor that woman found people watching here. And they had sent that charlatan to move us," he grumbled. "But, even if the explosions were recent, how come we did not realize the battle was already so close?"

"The warehouse is designed with thick walls to prevent people from easily entering to steal the merchandise that is supposed to be here," Elena explained. "Maybe that's why we didn't hear anything until it was too close... By the way, can you pass my shoe?"

A sudden laugh made the three of them turn back. Sepira laughed out loud, while Guido seemed to be debating whether to stand there or run backward.

"You guys are incredible!" she commented with amusement.

"Giotto, tell her not to laugh."

"Why me?"

Sepira shook her head and walked forward without stopping until she reached the door. Then, she cocked her head.

"It wasn't like that when I arrived. Or at least I didn't notice... What a shame."

"Miss," Giotto approached her. "It is dangerous to be so close to the door. Maybe we should go back to-"

"No, no. Wasn't it you who said it was best to take advantage of the distraction?"

"However, with the battle a few steps away and more men coming this way…"

"Let me give a little help for that," she smiled. "After all, I was not aware something like this would happen. I must redeem myself."

Redeem herself? Why should she feel guilty about something no one knew would happen?

Before Giotto could say anything else, Sepira continued forward and passed through the door. Giotto and G looked at each other in confusion. Both widened their eyes in fear and ran after her while letting out a high-pitched scream. Be out as if nothing happened was very risky!

"W-wait, please-"

Giotto stopped, and G did the same. As soon as they went out into the open field (because that warehouse was in a wooded part, far from the city), they ran into a wave of people running. There was a part of the wave that seemed to flee, which turned back from time to time to shoot with guns to their attackers; there was another one attacking, the one that was chasing and was winning that impromptu battle.

It was, in every sense of the word, a battlefield. One that moved and went straight towards them.

"I still haven't fully recovered from the trauma of years ago for them to do this." G complained dejectedly.

Sepira inhaled, closed her eyes for a few moments, and clasped her hands. Giotto felt a chill run through him, felt as if the energy of the environment changed. Inevitably, his gaze fell on the woman.

Sepira opened her eyes again and spread her hands, placing them in front of her.

There, Giotto confirmed that, without a doubt, she was someone more special than anyone in the world.

A kind of wave, a visible one in orange, like those that form in water, emerged from her hands. It didn't burn; it wasn't aggressive; it was smooth. Too bad the same couldn't be said for its effects.

The wave advanced, and when it touched several of the men running toward them, it made their movements stop, their skin turning gray, and their body stiff.

She had turned them to stone.

Giotto brought one of his hands to his mouth, thus stopping an exclamation of surprise. In fear, he turned to look at his other hand, no flames in it but trembling. What had that been? Could he do the same? That was somehow scary. What if he did something like that by accident? What if-

"Do not worry. They are not dead," Sepira reassured him and turned to see him with a smile. "The type of flame I used is not the necessary one for them to stay like this forever; it is only to stop them. In a time-"

"Watch out!" G yelled.

Sepira felt her arm being pulled by G, just in time for a kind of shot of green flames not to hit her, right at her head. Although she managed to evade the main attack, a part of it brushed past her cheek, making a cut from which blood began to flow.

As if it were a dream, Sepira brought one of her hands to her face, and when she felt and saw the blood, the first thing she thought was the sensation was strange, unpleasant because of the itch that still lingered on her nerves.

This was wrong. In many, many ways. The pain, people using flames so easily and attacking with them. Flames weren't something that all should know about. They were too dangerous, as much as to-.

"Miss!"

Sepira looked up and saw Giotto and G's concerned faces. The sound around her seemed louder now, as did the screaming.

She was beginning to understand why her partner said that being with humans would be dangerous. It would be a waste. But even so, when she saw those two in front of her, they gave her a different feeling.

She remembered it was why she was there, wasn't it? Because of all humans, there was someone who could take care of a part of the power that now, neither she nor her companion could guard anymore, someone she could trust, someone who would not take advantage of it.

She wanted to know if he was worthy. And for that, the best thing was to observe him.

Sepira shook her head, smiled at them, and as if nothing had happened, pointed forward and said:

"You should also be careful."

Before anyone could say anything, G was tackled by a man running at full speed, sending him straight to crash into the warehouse wall. Giotto turned and tried to go with his friend, but a series of shots made him move in the opposite direction.

Seeing that another person was going towards the entrance of the warehouse, where Guido and Elena had hidden (neither of them had weapons or knew how to fight, it was a wise decision), Sepira stretched her leg and made the man in question trip and fall face down to the ground. Then she calmly used her flames, turning him into a kind of stone mat, headed for the warehouse, and screamed loud enough so Giotto and G could hear her.

"I've done my part! Now it's up to you to finish this. Don't worry, respecting the original plan a bit, I will stay to take care of the others, and you will be the main offensive."

Fear could do many things. One of them was to have you try to catch one of your targets by carrying him like a sack and then flee with him in your arms because, oh look, your side was losing in an improvised battle in which another group attacked.

G screamed in frustration and nudged the man who had somehow accomplished the feat of carrying him, taking advantage of the fact that he had been confused by the blow against the hard rock of the warehouse. The man lost his balance and fell to the ground, taking G with him.

G felt the blow against the ground, which made him even angrier and ended up punching his enemy in the face, knocking him unconscious. He snorted and took the gun that had been dropped from his hands by the unexpected attack. At that moment, he felt a threatening presence beside him, and he turned with the pistol pointed straight ahead. A shot was heard, and a man's body fell to the ground instantly, while a red stain spread across his chest at high speed.

G stepped back. He hadn't been the one who shot. He avoided vital points at all costs.

Doubtfully, he looked straight ahead, and there he saw another man with a gun pointing in his direction, an unexpected and unwanted savior. One of the attackers, undoubtedly. His body tensed, and he prepared to have to exchange shots, but that man only saw him for a few seconds, smirked, and turned around, continuing his mission to kill other people.

Ignoring him.

What did that mean?

"G!" Giotto called. G turned, and by that time, his friend was already at his side. "G, there is something strange. Some of them not-"

"They are not attacking us," he completed. "They are... protecting us? God, that sounds so bad."

"The ones who are attacking, they recognize us. And maybe came for us," Giotto agreed. "But why? We don't know them. And how did they know that we had been kidnapped? "

"None of this has- Down!"

G and Giotto dove to the ground, dodging a torrent of green flames. Most of those who did battle used standard weapons (dangerous in themselves), and from the looks of it, there were also a few who used the flames.

Those were also quite dangerous.

Both got up and noticed annoyed and frustrated men almost surrounded them—all in less than a second.

Another confirmation they were the target. To one side, they were valuable hostages that they had been fortunate to obtain easily. To another, they were... what were they?

Valuable people, maybe. Too bad those around him were on the other party that had kidnapped them and might as well take them back with a few gunshot holes in their bodies.

"Do you still endure the state you are in?" G asked.

"I do," Giotto answered, "What is your idea?"

"I took their weapons and distracted them. You go straight to them and knock them out. With that speed you have, it will be easy for you," he sighed. "Be careful with those who have flames, if you can, with them also use yours."

"Are you telling me to go straight without thinking? I never thought I heard that."

"I never thought I'd let you fight in the front line without weapons, but you see now," G snorted. "I'll cover you."

"I know," Giotto said before running towards the men in front of him. G wanted to yell at him to wait, but in the end, he just grumbled and took aim.

With Giotto, waiting was not an option.

Giotto pounced on them. His eyes searched for the weak points G had taught him all people had, points that would serve to stop them, to leave them unconscious without severe damage.

A jump, a blow to the neck. Dodge, run, a low kick to make them fall. Take a few steps back, and lunge. The world was spinning. It was slow and fast at the same time.

Giotto could hear G's constant gunfire behind him, clearing his way. G shot, disarmed, or distracted them, left them defenseless, which Giotto took advantage of to hit them and knock them out of action.

Despite the synchronicity they had, despite having some experience (if you could call what had happened four years ago "experience"), Giotto and G were still somehow new. Sometimes they could not dodge as fast as they would like, or they didn't notice the attack until it was late, since, second by second, several shots were grazing them, opening wounds that little by little began to stain their clothes with blood.

On the other side of the field, the other party that attacked the group made the sea of people Giotto and G had to face less. And while it was useful, it gave them a bad feeling.

Who likes to have help from those kinds of people?

"Gun!" G yelled at him.

Giotto punched a man in the stomach, knocking him out. He grabbed his weapon before it hit the ground and launched it at G, who caught it and wasted no time in firing at another enemy who was going to stab Giotto. The man recoiled from the shot, and Giotto jumped so he could hit him on the head.

At that moment, he barely had time to move back to dodge another torrent of green flames that swept past him, tearing at his shirt sleeves. Giotto fell to the ground and looked in the direction from which the flames had come.

He was a big, burly man who, as might be expected, wore a ring. One of the few flame users, the one who had tried to shoot Sepira, the one who had tried to shoot them more than once. That guy seemed to have trouble breathing well; he looked too tired.

Perhaps the flames' very use had him that way, making him unable to battle continuously—something helpful to Giotto.

Giotto turned to see G, and G, after a few seconds, nodded.

It was an implicit exchange of words.

"I need no one to come near here, I'm counting on you."

Giotto inhaled. His hands shook.

Being in that state was one thing. Using flames that magically came out of his hands, flames that could burn, flames that could petrify, flames that he wasn't sure he could control, was another.

It was resolution. It was will.

But it was also control.

He had to protect them.

He had to finish the situation.

And he had to stay conscious because it wasn't the end. There was still a long way to go.

The man inhaled and returned to use his flames, green, flashing as the teen had not seen before. Giotto dodged and advanced.

His concentration made him see everything in slow motion. The man opened his eyes but smirked. The ring flashed, the man screamed (a kind of war cry, of confidence), and another torrent of flames came towards him.

Giotto placed his hands in front of him. He had to do it; he had to achieve it. He couldn't be afraid because if he was, he might lose everything.

They had to be strong; they had to be big; they had to expand. Giotto needed those flames to stop the attack. His heart raced, and he felt the energy flow through him.

The flames came out. Giotto's hands were surrounded by vivid orange fire, which looked more like a kind of shooting star in the dark of night. Some sort of makeshift barrier. Flames against flames.

The man recoiled in surprise, causing his attack to diminish in strength and, moments later, to end abruptly. Giotto took advantage, and still with the flames in his hands, he ran towards his enemy and hit him with force directly in the face.

The man was thrown backward and hit a tree. Giotto fell to his knees, and before he could move to see how G was doing, he felt his body stop reacting in the usual way.

A blue cloak spread out in front of him. His eyes began to weigh.

No.

He turned. He was there, the one who had captured him and G. He had used those blue flames again. And what was happening? Were those flames eating his? The fire on his hands was disappearing, and that caused him to panic.

The man looked at him pityingly, shook his head, and pointed a gun at him.

Giotto tried to move, tried to bring the flames back to him, but couldn't. Everything felt so slow, so meaningless. He noticed how the man was about to pull the trigger, and then...

Then a shot, and seconds later, the man screamed as his hand, along with the gun he carried, were engulfed in red flames. Bright red, scarlet red, devouring red. Red flames that had been launched in a kind of shot that came from the right.

Giotto turned, and there he saw it: G was on his knees, trembling, and next to him was a discarded gun from which it seemed to come...

Flames.

G had tried shooting flames through a gun.

His flames.

Giotto could not help but felt anger towards that man. He felt his world turn red.

Because he knew that G didn't like flames of that type. He understood they meant a painful past. He understood that every time G saw them, he would somehow relive everything (Giotto still remembered the scared face G had when he found out the flames he had were like his father's, he remembered his trembling body, his teary eyes).

Giotto felt anger. He felt frustrated.

It was the second time that, because of him, G had to use the flames.

Something was burning inside him.

It was a red world.

In that red world, the energy returned. It spread throughout his body, and it came out uncontrollably.

Action chapter! As I always comment, it is extremely difficult to be able to write action well without feeling that everything is very repetitive and following a stable rhythm, but I hope it turned out well.