Flames. Cursed flames were everywhere. The smoke blotted out the night sky, and the ash fell like rain. It was a scene straight out of the apocalypse, as if the very mouth of hell had opened and unleashed its misery upon the Earth.

Through it all stumbled a young red-haired boy, his golden eyes held a haunted expression. If anyone had witnessed the sight of the youth struggling, they would have been horrified. Barely eight years old by most people's reckoning, he struggled to stay alive in this accursed hellscape and only did so through a warped survivor's instinct taken to the extreme. The cursed flames subtly influenced him, robbing him of his emotions, and taking all his memories since birth.

His hatred held him back from going forward? He cast it into the hungry maw of the flames.

His sadness, which made him want to turn back? The flames were given that emotion next too.

His despair, which made him want to fall to his knees? It was its turn for the flames.

Happiness, fear, anger, all of it was torn away, leaving a hollowed existence in its place.

As the flames demanded more from the boy, whispering insidious thoughts and clawing at his sanity, he started to slow down. Time slowed to a crawl for the young boy, as if the very laws of reality were being warped and twisted by the malevolent fire.

As the flames danced and roared with a twisted delight, the young boy still marched onwards, desperately trying to evade death. But, alas, his legs could not bear to walk an inch further and he collapsed backward, staring face up at the sky.

The accursed flames howled their joy to the blackened heavens, and suddenly raced towards the downed boy, intending to consume him as it had done to many other countless poor souls.

However…

"That boy is not yours to do with as you please, little god."

The flames surrounding the boy slowed to a crawl and then stopped, as ice began to glacially consume the cursed fire. Then with a sudden snap of fingers, the ice shattered into tiny specks of ice that quickly melted away, leaving behind only wet ash and debris.

The sound of boots crunching on loose gravel and debris echoed outwards, as a lone male figure marched out of the gloom, clad in futuristic armor. The unknown male slowly lowered his hand, turning his head this way and that, scouring the area for more threats to the young boy's safety.

Finding none, the male quietly kneeled down beside the red-head, gently grabbing one of the boy's hands while taking a deep breath. When the armored male exhaled, he started to slowly fade away as Light surged from the man to the boy in a whirl of prismatic color. Soon enough, the man was gone leaving behind a small necklace of a tree flanked by two wolf heads. Then it too, faded away, but in a small rush of flame that consumed the boy.

When the flames had faded, they revealed the boy was unscathed. But spiritually… only time would tell.

A few minutes later, the sound of more boots echoed in the silence as two more armored figures appeared from the darkness. By the design of their armor, one was male, and the other was female.

Both soldiers, for what else could they be, rushed forward in a desperate effort to save at least one life from this hell.

"EDI, vital signs please." came the female figure's voice, sharp with worry. With a small flash of light, a small drone-like construct the size of her hand appeared on her open palm.

"Right away, Ayra." EDI said in an equally feminine voice, but in a calmer tone, as she glided away and directed a small beam of light at the young boy. Her shell, which was a Last City shell, was colored a midnight black with gold trimming on its edges.

"Is he the one we're looking for, Joker?" the male figure said in a deep voice, to seemingly no one, until another Ghost appeared next to him. This Ghost had a matching shell to the other one, but with the coloring reversed.

"Yes I believe he is, Beregon." came the reply, in a chirpy male voice, which made the armored figure feel old. "I'm just glad we made it in time."

"We weren't the first ones to make it here," EDI interjected with worried shock. "Seems like someone else beat us to the punch. Whatever they did to the boy is fighting against what was in those cursed flames; it's keeping him stable for now. And by the way have you three noticed? The ground in this area is wet around here."

"You don't mean someone used…?!" began Ayra.

"That someone used Stasis on the Cursed Flames in the area?" finished EDI. "Yes they did, and it was someone powerful, too."

Just at that moment, the four of them heard someone shouting out into the night. Both Ghosts quickly hid themselves, fading away into motes of light. They didn't want to be a target to someone unknown and possibly hostile. The remaining two listened carefully to the cries.

"Hello?! Is anyone still alive out there?!" came the desperate cries of a broken man. "Please! Give me a sign!"

"How are we going to explain ourselves?" Ayra hissed over her helmet's comm relay to Beregon. "If it's the first responders, we're going to have a lot of problems!"

"No, I don't think it's them," Beregon replied calmly over the channel. "I think I know who it is as well."

"Oi! Over here! We've got a live one, but we need some help to stabilize him!" Beregon suddenly shouted out over his helmet's speakers, the tone so loud he startled Ayra into jumping a foot in the air.

"What are you doing?!" Ayra yelled in panic over the channel. "Are you insane?!"

"It'll be fine, trust me," was Beregon's short but calm reply.

A few seconds later, a man in a black coat flecked with ash came running into view. He skidded to a stop a few feet in front of the others, and his haunted obsidian colored eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the two armored soldiers.

"Beregon?!" The shock in the man's voice was clear as a bright summer's day.

"It's been a long time hasn't it, Kiritsugu?" Beregon casualty said to the worn out man.

"Yes, it are you even here?"

"You both can catch up later! The boy needs medical attention!" EDI said in a panic, coming out of hiding. "His vitals are starting to flatline!"

"WHAT?!" Ayra, Beregon, and Kiritsugu shouted in near unison.

Moving so quickly he appeared as a blurry shape, Kiritsugu soon stood next to the young red-headed boy, whose eyes were slowly starting to close.

"No, hold on!" the black haired man said in a panic.

There was a sudden brilliantly golden light, as Kiritsugu held his arms in front of his chest, and a sheath of the finest quality, colored gold and royal blue came forth. Then carefully the man gently placed it over the young red haired boy's chest and the sheath slowly faded into golden particles that sank into the youth's slowly dying body.

"Whatever you did is working!" EDI said happily. "He should make a full recovery, along with some medical attention from the professionals."

"I don't know about you guys, but I need a nap." Ayra said, yawning widely inside her helmet.

"Aye I could do the same," Beregon said in reply, nodding in agreement. He turned to Kiritsugu and said, "We'll talk later, ok? Just focus on getting the kid to the hospital."

Kiritsugu nodded and raced off towards where the noise of sirens could be heard. Beregon and Ayra, meanwhile, disappeared in a flash of pure white light, leaving no evidence of anything behind, save for the wet ash, and debris as the fire slowly faded away as dawn approached.

Took me a while to properly get this chapter up to snuff, and not to post it immediately. As for my other story, The Sword of the Wyrm Gods, I will be doing a rewrite of it sometime in the future.

As always please like/subscribe if you loved it and also please leave a review!

I'll see you Starside.