The world didn't end in fire.
It ended in Mondays.
Aurelius Kael sat at the far corner of the college cafeteria, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, watching the steam rise from his untouched cup of coffee. Around him, the clatter of trays and low hum of laughter filled the air — the usual chaos of campus life. But none of it seemed real to him. Everything felt slightly off, like the world had been repainted overnight in colors that didn't belong.
The caffeine did nothing to pull him from the fog that had settled in his head since morning. He rubbed his temples, trying to recall what day it even was. He had missed his morning lecture — again. Jace had called him twice, then texted:
> "Bro, u alive? U blanked out again last night."
Again.
That word echoed in his mind like a curse.
Aurelius stared at his phone's dim screen, watching his own reflection flicker against it. He looked older somehow — not physically, but in the eyes. Like someone who had lived through centuries and just happened to wake up in a college dorm.
He didn't remember what he dreamed about, but the smell of burning metal still haunted him.
---
By the time Jace found him, Aurelius was halfway through pretending to study his philosophy notes, though his mind wasn't processing a word.
"Man," Jace said, plopping down across from him with his usual grin, "you look like a corpse that forgot how to die."
"Good morning to you too," Aurelius muttered.
Jace chuckled, but it didn't hide the concern in his eyes. "You had another blackout last night, didn't you?"
Aurelius hesitated. "I… think so."
Jace leaned forward. "You were outside at like 3 a.m., just standing in the courtyard — staring at the sky. I called your name twice before you even blinked. Then you said something weird."
Aurelius frowned. "What did I say?"
Jace hesitated, his voice dropping. "You said, 'The fire remembers me.'"
The words sent a chill down Aurelius's spine. He forced a laugh, trying to shake it off. "Sounds poetic. Maybe I was dreaming."
"Maybe," Jace said, unconvinced. "But you've been off lately, man. Zoning out in class, forgetting stuff, and those marks on your arms—"
Aurelius pulled his sleeves down quickly. The faint sigils — those same strange patterns that pulsed beneath his skin — had returned during the night. He'd tried to scrub them off in the shower, but they only faded slightly before glowing again when his emotions spiked.
"Just some ink," Aurelius lied. "I was messing around with that glow paint thing."
Jace gave him a look. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Kael."
But Aurelius knew Jace didn't believe him.
---
The day dragged on in fragments. In between lectures, Aurelius found himself drifting — staring out windows, caught in flashes of images that didn't belong to this life.
A burning city.
A throne wrapped in chains.
A woman's voice, whispering his name as though it belonged to another world.
Every time he blinked, it was like reality rippled. Once, in the hallway outside his sociology class, the lights flickered — and for a second, the posters on the walls changed. Instead of club announcements and charity drives, he saw banners written in a language that burned with golden letters.
Then it was gone.
Just a hallway again. Just the world pretending to be normal.
By afternoon, his head throbbed so badly he almost skipped his last class. But Jonah dragged him along, insisting he'd "lose his attendance points again."
---
The lecture hall was cold. Professor Mendez was rambling about human identity, memory, and consciousness — a cruel coincidence considering Aurelius's condition.
"Memory," the professor said, "is the thread that stitches our identity. Without it, the self unravels. You could wake up tomorrow and not remember your name, and you'd be a stranger even to yourself."
Aurelius's pen froze. The words hit him too deeply. His heart started to race.
He glanced down at his notebook — only to find he had written the same phrase repeatedly without realizing it:
> Find me before the world burns again.
The letters were carved deep into the paper, like they'd been written by someone else through his hand.
He slammed the notebook shut. His breathing grew shallow.
"Kael?" Jace whispered beside him. "You good?"
Aurelius nodded quickly, forcing a tight smile. "Yeah. Just tired."
But when he looked up again, Professor Mendez wasn't at the podium anymore.
For a moment — a fleeting, impossible moment — a man in black armor stood there instead, his eyes burning like molten gold. He looked straight at Aurelius.
Then Mendez blinked back into view, adjusting his glasses as if nothing had happened.
Aurelius clutched the edge of the desk, trying not to lose it in front of everyone. His pulse pounded in his ears.
---
That night, he couldn't sleep.
Jace had gone out for food, leaving Aurelius alone in their small dorm room. The walls felt too close, the air too still. Every sound — the hum of the fridge, the ticking of the clock — was amplified until it became unbearable.
He got up and splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror.
The man looking back wasn't the same one who'd started the semester. His eyes seemed darker, sharper — like they were remembering things he hadn't lived.
He touched his arm, tracing the faint blue glow of the sigils beneath his skin. The symbols pulsed once, responding to his heartbeat.
And then the mirror flickered.
For an instant, it wasn't his reflection staring back — but the same man in black armor. The same burning eyes. The same voice from his dreams whispered through the glass:
> "Aurelius… the ashes remember."
The bathroom light shattered.
Aurelius stumbled backward, crashing into the sink. The glass cracked further, fragments falling to the floor. When he dared look again, the reflection was normal. Just him — pale, terrified, breathing hard.
He gripped the counter, his chest heaving. "I'm losing my mind," he muttered. "I'm actually losing it."
---
Jace returned an hour later to find him sitting on the floor, still awake.
"Bro," Jonah said cautiously, setting a takeout bag on the desk. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost."
"Maybe I did," Aurelius whispered.
Jace crouched down. "Kael… listen. Maybe you should talk to someone. Like a doctor. These blackouts, the visions — whatever they are — they're not normal."
Aurelius shook his head. "It's not that simple."
"Then what is it?"
He hesitated, then lifted his sleeve. The blue sigils glowed faintly in the dim light.
Jace's eyes widened. "What the hell— Kael, that's under your skin. Is that real?"
Aurelius nodded silently. "They appear when I dream. When I… forget."
Jace stared at him like he was staring at something unreal. "You're scaring me, man."
"I'm scaring myself," Aurelius admitted softly.
Jace sat down beside him. "Look, whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Maybe it's a condition, maybe it's some chemical imbalance, I don't know. But you're not alone, alright?"
Aurelius nodded, but his thoughts were far away. Because deep down, something in him knew this wasn't just an illness. This was remembrance — something older than science, older than reason.
---
He tried to sleep again that night, but when he did, the dreams returned — more vivid than ever.
He was standing in a city of ruins, its skyline burning beneath a blood-red sky. Armored figures knelt before him, whispering his name. At the center stood a throne of black stone, and on it, a crown of fire waited.
Aurelius reached for it — and as his fingers brushed the flame, he heard a woman's voice once more:
> "You promised me you'd never vanish again…"
He woke up gasping. Sweat drenched his sheets. His heart pounded like thunder.
But this time, when he looked down at his hands, they were glowing — faintly, softly — with light that refused to fade.
He pressed his palms together, trembling. The air shimmered faintly, bending like heat.
And in that moment, the walls around him pulsed — the same sigils appearing faintly across the surface, glowing in response to his presence.
Jace stirred from the other bed, half-asleep. "Bro… turn off your lamp…"
Aurelius stared at his hands, whispering, "I didn't turn it on."
The light faded just as suddenly as it had come. But sleep would not return that night.
Outside the dorm window, lightning cracked across the city sky — though the weather report had promised clear skies.
And somewhere in that storm, for just a heartbeat, Aurelius thought he saw the faint outline of a city — black spires and burning towers — reflected in the glass.
---
By morning, Jace was gone for class. Aurelius sat alone, staring out the window, watching the world wake up.
He didn't know how much longer he could keep pretending this was normal. Every blackout, every dream, every glowing mark brought him closer to something he didn't understand — and yet, it all felt too familiar.
He opened his notebook again. The same phrase had reappeared on the page, though he hadn't written it this time.
> Find me, my emperor. Before the world burns again.
Aurelius traced the letters with a shaking finger. His reflection in the window seemed to smile faintly — not cruelly, but knowingly.
He whispered to himself, "Who am I really?"
And though there was no answer, the air seemed to hum in reply.