Ash's body *ignited*.
Not just hands. Not just arms. *Everything*.
Flames spiraled up his legs, wrapped around his torso, consumed his neck in ribbons of orange-red fire that *lived*. The heat slammed into Sable like a physical wall—thirty feet away and his skin was already tightening, the moisture in his eyes evaporating.
Ash's head turned.
Through the smoke. Through Bang's explosion-residue hanging in the air. Through the *rubble* Sable was crouched behind.
Directly at him.
*He can see me.*
"Thermal vision," Malvric said beside him. His voice was clinical. Detached. Like observing an interesting specimen. "He's tracking body heat."
Sable's blue eye cataloged the impossibility: *Ash's burnt eye socket—weeping blood, tissue destroyed—but his other eye glowing faintly orange. Like coals.*
"That's a problem," Sable muttered.
Across the yard, Bang was *struggling*.
No grin. No manic energy. Just grim determination carved into his face—jaw tight, silver eyes focused, movements economical instead of explosive.
He kicked.
**BOOM.**
Ash sidestepped. *Easy*. Like Bang was moving through molasses.
Threw fire. Baseball-sized. Trailing smoke.
Bang twisted midair. The fireball whistled past his ribs—close enough that his shirt caught. Flames spreading across fabric.
He hit the ground. Rolled. The fire went out.
Stood. Breathing hard.
*We're losing.*
Sable's analytical mind ran calculations: *Bang's exhausted. Malvric's support-class. I'm barely standing. Ash has multiple Graces and he's absorbing his own flames to heal.*
*We can't win this.*
"Ellaya." Sable grabbed her shoulders. His hands were shaking. "Listen. You need to—"
**BOOM.**
The explosion shook rubble. Twenty feet away. Concrete cracking.
"—you need to stay *back*. Find cover. Deep cover. Don't move until—"
"I can help—" Her small hands clutched Second against her chest. The bird was puffing up, feathers standing on end, eyes tracking Ash with predatory focus.
"You *can't*." Sable's voice came out harder than intended. His fingers dug into her shoulders. "This isn't—you can't fight this. Just *hide*. Please."
Brown eyes. Wide. Scared. But trusting.
She nodded.
"Okay."
"Good. Go. *Now*."
She ran. Thirty feet back toward the lamppost. Behind deeper rubble. Out of immediate range.
Sable turned back.
Bang dodged another fireball. Barely. His left boot—barely holding together, sole flapping—caught on debris. He stumbled.
Ash's hand came up. Fire building.
*Fuck.*
"BANG!" Sable screamed. "DOWN!"
Bang dropped.
The fireball sailed overhead. Hit the rusted shipping container behind him. Metal *shrieked*—superheated, warping, glowing orange.
Bang rolled. Came up. His chest heaving. Sweat and blood mixing on his face.
No smile.
Ash raised both hands. Not aiming. Just—*preparing*. Fire spiraling around both fists now. Growing. The flames *eating* his charred forearms but the burns were *healing*. Slowly. Visibly.
Fresh pink tissue forming beneath black char. Then charring again. Then forming again.
Endless cycle.
"He's absorbing the heat," Malvric observed. Still casual. Still clinical. "Flame absorption Grace. Uses his own fire as fuel."
"*How many does he have?*" Sable's voice cracked.
"Six confirmed. Fire emission. Force projection. Pain tolerance. Regeneration. Thermal vision. Flame absorption." Malvric's black eyes tracked Ash like a scientist observing data. "Possibly more. Grace hunters tend to accumulate—"
Ash's hands swept *wide*.
Not aiming at Bang anymore.
At *everything*.
Fire sprayed in an arc. Covering the entire yard. No precision. No targeting.
Just *area denial*.
"SCATTER!" Bang screamed.
Malvric *dove*. Behind rubble. Disappeared into shadow.
Bang kicked sideways. **BOOM.** The explosion launched him fifteen feet left. He hit concrete. Rolled. Safe.
Sable threw himself right. Hit the ground. The fireball whistled *over* his head—heat searing, close enough that his hair singed.
He came up on one knee. Gasping. Checked positions automatically—
*Malvric. Cover. Safe.*
*Bang. Twenty feet left. Standing.*
*Ellaya—*
His working eye found the rubble pile.
Found the small figure.
Standing.
Not behind cover.
*Running toward him.*
"SABLE—"
*No.*
The fireball caught her center-mass.
The impact lifted her small body off the ground. Threw her backward like a rag doll. She hit concrete. Hard. Bounced once.
And *burned*.
The flames spread. Not gradually. *Instantly*. Consuming her grey dress in seconds—fabric turning black, curling, *disintegrating*. Finding skin underneath.
Finding *flesh*.
Her scream was—
There were no words for that sound.
High. Broken. Primal. The sound of a seven-year-old child being *murdered* by fire.
Sable's body moved. Legs pumping. Running. Thirty feet. Twenty-five.
*Move faster.*
*FASTER.*
Ellaya's small hands beat at the flames. Trying to stop them. Trying to *push* them away like they were physical things she could fight.
The fire didn't care.
It *ate*.
Her regeneration Grace *activated*.
Sable saw it. Saw fresh skin forming on her arms—pink, new, *whole*—
The flames consumed it.
Faster than it could heal.
Creating a cycle. Death. Resurrection. Death. Resurrection. Death.
Over and over in the span of *seconds*.
Her screams got *worse*.
Not quieter. Not ending.
*Worse*.
Higher. More desperate. The sound of someone being killed repeatedly in the same eternal moment.
Second was *shrieking*. Circling overhead. Wings beating frantically. The bird dove toward Ellaya—trying to help, trying to *do something*—
The heat drove him back.
Too intense. Too close. Even Second's loyalty had limits against physics.
Sable was fifteen feet away when Ellaya's hands *stopped moving*.
Ten feet when her regeneration *slowed*. The pink tissue forming slower. Thinner. Struggling.
Five feet when the flames started *winning*.
She looked at him.
Brown eyes. Wide. Wet. *Terrified*.
Seeing him. Recognizing him. Understanding he was *right there* and still too far.
"Sable—" The word came out strangled. Bubbling. Her lungs filling with superheated air. Her throat blistering from the inside. "—it *hurts*—"
His throat closed. The words wouldn't come. Just a choked sound that might have been her name.
"I know—" His voice broke completely. Shattered. "—I know I'm *coming*—"
Three feet.
Two.
Ash's fireball hit him center-mass.
The impact was a freight train made of heat and force. Sable's feet left the ground. His body flew backward—ten feet, fifteen—crashed into concrete hard enough to crack ribs.
Air left his lungs in a rush that tasted like copper and char.
He rolled. Gasping. Choking on smoke and failure.
Looked up.
Ellaya was *silent* now.
Not because the burning stopped.
Because she couldn't scream anymore.
Her mouth was open. Her chest heaving—lungs trying to pull air that was too hot to breathe. But no sound came out.
Just wet, rattling sounds. Like drowning on dry land.
Her regeneration was *failing*. Skin forming and burning and forming slower each time. The pink tissue giving up. Surrendering.
Her small body convulsing. Hands twitching. Eyes rolling back.
*Dying.*
Sable's blue eye tracked it all. Cataloged every detail with medical precision.
*Third-degree burns. Full body. Muscle exposure. Organ failure imminent. Regeneration Grace insufficient. Time to death: thirty seconds. Maybe less.*
His brown eye just *saw*.
Ellaya. Small. Broken. *Alone*.
Burning alive while he lay thirty feet away with broken ribs and empty hands.
Across the yard, through the flames and smoke—
Ash was *smiling*.
Not grinning. Not manic.
Just a small, satisfied smile. The expression of someone who'd accomplished exactly what they intended.
Regret flooded through Sable.
Not for dying. Not for the broken ribs or burnt flesh or shattered pride.
For being *slow*.
For telling Ellaya to hide and not *staying* to make sure she did.
For failing the one person who'd trusted him completely. Who'd held his hand. Who'd said *I'll always need you.*
For letting her die *screaming*.
"I'll fucking kill you." The words came out empty. Hollow. A promise carved into the space between heartbeats.
His mismatched eyes found Ash through the smoke.
And something in Sable's chest went *cold*.
**[T I M E S H I F T]**
**[RETROGRADE: ACTIVE]**
-----
Reality *screamed*.
Colors inverted—orange flames becoming blue, red blood becoming green. Sound reversed, sucking backward into silence. His organs twisted, reformed, *rewound*—
His chest was whole.
His ribs unbroken.
He stood thirty feet from Ellaya. She was still near the rubble. Still safe.
Still *alive*.
The memory of her screaming carved itself into his skull with the permanence of scar tissue.
Ash's hand swept wide.
Fire spraying in an arc—
But Sable could *see* it now.
**[TIME PRINT: ACTIVE]**
Translucent lines burned across his vision. Trajectory paths. The exact arc of every fireball from the previous timeline.
The path to Ellaya. The point of impact. The *moment* she would burn.
He was already *moving*.
Not thinking. Not calculating. Just—*running*.
"ELLAYA—"
She turned. Saw him charging. Thirty feet. Twenty-five.
"—GET *DOWN*—"
The fireball sailed overhead. Exactly where she would have been standing if she'd kept running toward him.
It hit the lamppost behind her. Metal *shrieking*. Warping.
Sable grabbed her. Lifted. His burnt arm *screamed*—tissue tearing, barely-healed wounds reopening. Blood running hot down his side.
He didn't care.
Ran.
Behind the lamppost. Behind deeper rubble. Behind a collapsed section of wall that would block thermal vision.
Set her down. Not gentle. Fast. Efficient.
His hands gripped her shoulders. Hard enough to bruise.
"Stay *here*." His voice came out raw. Desperate. "Don't move. Don't—" It cracked completely. "—don't *move*. Please. *Please.*"
Ellaya stared at him. At the terror in his mismatched eyes. At something she couldn't see but could *feel*—the weight of a timeline where she'd died screaming.
"Okay," she whispered.
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Sable stood. Turned.
His hand found the chain. *Yanked* it from his coat collar. The multipurpose tool. Sharp hook at the end. The one Elvor had used to stab his eye. Still stained with his dried blood.
His other hand gripped the metal rod.
Bang was still fighting. Barefoot now—his boots had finally *disintegrated*. Gray long-sleeved shirt burned away completely. His chest and arms covered in first-degree burns. Blistering. Red. Weeping clear fluid.
But *fighting*.
Ash was winding up. Another fireball. Both hands. Aiming at Bang.
Sable *ran*.
Not toward Ash. Toward *Bang*.
Flanking. Calculating. His blue eye tracking trajectories from the previous loop. His brown eye just seeing the target.
The man who'd burned Ellaya alive.
Who'd *smiled* while doing it.
"*BANG!*" Sable screamed.
Bang's head snapped toward him. Just for a second. Silver eyes focusing.
Sable pointed at his own eyes. Then at Ash.
*Blind him.*
Bang's exhausted face *split* into a grin.
Small. Tired. But *real*.
He understood.
His palms came up.
Aimed at Ash's face. Point-blank. Five feet away.
**BOOM. BOOM.**
Twin explosions. Simultaneous. The blast wave rolled outward. Light. Heat. *Smoke*.
Everything within ten feet became the same temperature instantly.
Ash's thermal vision meant *nothing* when the entire world was white-hot.
He was *blind*.
Sable's chain *whipped* forward.
The motion was clumsy. Untrained. His medical-student body trying to remember martial arts it had never learned.
But the hook caught.
Snagged Ash's coat. Held.
*Resistance.*
"Got you."
Sable *pulled*.
His burnt arm shrieked. Fresh blood pouring from reopened wounds. The regeneration Grace trying to work but too slow too *weak*—
He didn't care.
*Ellaya hurt more.*
The image of her burning filled his vision. Her screams echoing in his skull. The way her regeneration had *failed*—
He *yanked* harder.
Ash stumbled forward. Off-balance. One step. Two.
His thermal vision clearing. His remaining eye focusing on Sable. Recognition.
Sable raised the metal rod. Swung. Aiming for the skull—
Ash's hand shot up. *Caught* it.
Mid-swing. Mid-arc. His burnt fingers—charred black, muscle visible—wrapped around metal that should have been moving too fast to intercept.
"Nice try." Ash's voice was smoke and gravel.
His *other* hand pressed forward.
Palm open. Aimed at Sable's chest.
Force projection. Point-blank.
The invisible impact hit like a battering ram.
Sable flew backward. Five feet. His back slammed into rubble. Air exploding from his lungs.
Bang was already *moving*.
His bare foot came up. All his remaining strength compressed into one strike.
**BOOM.**
The kick caught Ash's ribs. Clean. Precise.
*CRACK.*
Not one rib. *Multiple*. The sound of bones snapping like dry branches. Like a xylophone being destroyed by a sledgehammer.
Ash flew sideways. Fifteen feet. Hit concrete. Bounced. Rolled.
Stood.
*Still standing.*
Blood poured from his mouth. From his nose. From his *ears*.
His posture was hunched. Wrong. The broken ribs visible through his burnt shirt—pushing against charred skin at angles that made Sable's medical training scream.
But he was *standing*.
"Overextending," Malvric said.
He'd appeared from nowhere. Standing beside Sable. Black suit somehow still pristine despite the chaos. His expression calm. Analytical.
He held out his small dagger.
Silver blade. Perfectly balanced. The kind of weapon that cost more than most people earned in a year.
"Ditch the rod," Malvric said. His voice pleasant. Conversational. "Take this. Aim for the temple when you attack again."
Sable looked at the blade. At Malvric's calm face. At the dagger extended like an offering.
*I hate that it came from him.*
*I hate that I need it.*
He took it anyway.
The weight was perfect. Light. Deadly.
"I'll move right. You move left." Malvric's black eyes tracked Ash. "I'll distract him for a second. You and the redhead push. Finish it when you get an opening."
"I'll be m—"
**BOOM.**
Bang was already gone. Charging. Relentless. No strategy. No plan. Just *forward*.
"You—*pest*!" Ash's hands came up. Fire manifesting despite the broken ribs. Despite the blood. Despite everything.
"*MOVE!*" Malvric hissed.
"I'm already ahead of you!" Sable hissed back.
They split.
Malvric right. Sable left. Both running.
Ash threw fire.
Once.
The fireball sailed wide. Missed Malvric by three feet.
Twice.
Hit the ground near Sable. Splashed. Flames spreading but *weak*. Dying fast.
His accuracy was *shot*. Blood loss. Exhaustion. Grace overextension taking its toll.
Bang's fist connected. **BOOM.** Explosion at point of contact. Ash's jaw snapped sideways. More blood.
Ash's propulsion Grace activated. Pushing Bang back.
But it was *weak*. So weak. Bang stumbled only two feet. Caught himself. Immediately charged again.
Sable was twenty feet away. Fifteen. Ten.
His blue eye tracked movements. His brown eye just saw the target getting *closer*.
Malvric called out. His voice cutting through the chaos like a blade through silk:
"Is your mother alive?"
His tone was pleasant. Curious. Like asking about weather.
"If so, where is she located?"
Ash's remaining eye widened.
His pupils *dilated*.
Not his. *Malvric's*.
The black eyes flooding crimson. Red bleeding from the center outward until his entire iris glowed.
Truth compulsion.
Ash's mouth opened. Words coming out strangled. Forced. His tongue moving against his will.
"On the citadel of Bacrolod—" The words tore from his throat. "—she's alive and—"
He *bit* down. Hard. His teeth punching through his own lip. Blood flowing. Using *pain* to break the compulsion.
But he'd said enough.
Understanding dawned on his ruined face. Horror mixing with rage.
Malvric's smile was *vicious*.
Cruel. Delighted. The expression of someone who'd found the exact right nerve and planned to keep pressing.
"Oh *yeah*." His voice carried genuine pleasure. "I'll make sure to stab her slowly. Just like your friends here. Just like—" He paused. Savored it. "—just like *you*."
His black eyes were still red. Still glowing. The compulsion fading but the *menace* remaining.
"I'll find her. I'll tell her about you. About what you did. About the people you killed." Malvric took a step closer. "And I'll make her watch while I—"
"I'LL KILL YO—"
**BOOM.**
Bang's kick to the stomach. All his remaining energy. Every ounce of strength left in his burned, exhausted body.
The impact was *devastating*.
Ash doubled over. Gasping. The broken ribs grinding. One puncturing through skin. White bone visible through charred flesh.
Sable's chain *whipped*.
This time the throw was better. More practiced. His body learning through repetition even if his technique was still *shit*.
The hook caught Ash's coat. Snagged deep.
Sable *yanked*.
His burnt arm tore. Fresh blood pouring. The pain was white-hot and immediate.
*Ellaya hurt more.*
The thought was automatic. True. A mantra that overrode everything else.
Ash stumbled forward. Three feet. Two. One.
Right into range.
Sable's hand came up. Dagger leading. Aiming for the temple—
Ash's propulsion Grace *fired*.
*Weak.*
So weak. Just a push. A nudge.
But enough.
The invisible force hit Sable's wrist. Redirected. Just *slightly*. Wrong angle. Wrong trajectory.
The dagger *drove*—
Into Ash's eye socket.
Not the temple. Not the brain.
The *eye*.
The blade punched through. Sclera tearing like wet paper. Vitreous humor *exploding* outward. Clear gel mixed with blood. The eyeball displaced—pushed backward by steel—hanging by the optic nerve.
Ash *screamed*.
Not pain. His pain tolerance Grace was working. His body not registering the damage as *damage*.
Just—*rage*.
Pure. Absolute. Incandescent.
His palm pressed against Sable's chest. Point-blank. Fire building around his fingers. Orange flames spiraling. Growing. The heat immediate and *wrong*—
"Shit."
**BOOM.**
Bang's kick caught Sable. Not Ash. *Sable*.
The explosion launched him sideways. Ten meters. Sable's body flew through smoke and heat. Hit concrete. Bounced. Rolled.
Stopped.
His nose was bleeding. The impact. The explosive force. Something in his face had broken.
The fireball detonated where his chest had been. Scorching the ground black. Melting concrete. The heat so intense it created glass.
If he'd stayed—
If Bang hadn't—
Across the yard, Bang was backing away. His arms raised. Defensive. Body language screaming *retreat*.
The flames were too much. Too hot. Even Bang's insane pain tolerance had limits.
His bare feet were *smoking*. The skin blackened. Charred. But he was still *standing*.
Still *fighting*.
Ash stood there.
One eye destroyed. Hanging by the optic nerve. Blood and vitreous humor running down his face in sheets. The dagger still embedded—Sable's throw, Malvric's weapon—jutting from the socket at an angle.
His broken ribs grinding. One visible through burnt flesh. White bone against black char.
Breathing hard. Each exhale producing blood spray.
Body *failing*.
But *alive*.
His remaining eye—thermal vision still working—tracked them. All three. Malvric behind rubble. Bang ten feet away. Sable on the ground.
"I'll remember you three." His voice was broken glass and smoke and hate compressed into syllables. "I'll fucking *find* you."
His hands raised. Both palms down. Aimed at the ground beneath his feet.
Fire building. Both hands. Flames spiraling higher. Brighter. The heat so intense that concrete was already cracking.
"See you soon." Ash's smile was blood and teeth. "Real soon."
**BOOM.**
Fireball.
Massive.
Both hands simultaneously. The flames exploded outward in a perfect circle. A ring of fire thirty feet across.
Heat. Smoke. Light so bright Sable had to close his eyes.
The shockwave rolled outward. Pressure and sound. Windows shattering. Metal warping.
Then—*silence*.
Sable opened his eyes.
The fire was dying. Smoke rising. Clearing slowly.
Where Ash had been standing—
Nothing.
Just scorched concrete. Glass formed from melted stone. The dagger—Malvric's dagger—lying on the ground. Bent. Warped. Useless.
Ash was *gone*.
Propulsion Grace. The explosion had been *cover*. Smoke and heat obscuring vision. Obscuring *everything*.
He'd launched himself backward. Through the smoke. Through a building. Into the wasteland beyond.
*Escaped*.
-----
Sable lay there. Nose bleeding. Body *screaming*. Every nerve ending reporting damage.
Footsteps.
Bang appeared above him. Barefoot. Burns covering his legs, his arms, his chest. Gray shirt completely gone. First-degree burns blistering across every inch of exposed skin.
But *smiling*.
Small. Tired. But real.
He offered his hand.
"Fuck." Bang's voice was hoarse. Raw. "I'm sorry, man."
"It's fine." Sable took it. Stood. His legs nearly gave out. Bang caught him. Held him steady. "Where's Ellaya?"
"I'm here."
Her small voice. Behind the rubble where he'd hidden her.
She emerged.
Face smudged with ash. But *whole*.
Unhurt.
*Alive*.
Sable's legs gave out.
Not from injury. Not from exhaustion.
From *relief*.
He dropped. Knees hitting concrete. Hard enough to crack bone. He didn't feel it.
Knelt there. In front of Ellaya. Staring at the ground.
His hands were shaking. His throat tight. Closing.
The image wouldn't *leave*—
Ellaya. Burning. Screaming. Regeneration failing. Dying in fire while he watched helpless thirty feet away.
Over and over.
The loop had erased it from reality but not from his *memory*.
Never from memory.
"Sable?" Her small hand touched his shoulder. Warm. Real. *Alive*. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry." The words came out strangled. Broken. "I'm sorry for not being fast enough."
"But I'm okay—"
"I'm *sorry*."
His teeth clenched. Hard enough that his jaw ached. Hard enough that something in his face might have cracked.
"You were—" His voice broke completely. Shattered into pieces. "—you were *hurt*. Because I wasn't—I should have been *faster*—"
"Sable, I'm oka—"
"I'm *sorry*."
He couldn't stop. The words kept coming. Pouring out like blood from a wound that wouldn't close. "I'm sorry I'm—"
Small arms wrapped around his neck.
Ellaya hugged him. Her face pressed against his shoulder. Her small body warm and solid and *real* against his chest.
"It's okay," she whispered into his coat. "I'm okay. You saved me."
Sable's hands found her back. Held her. Gentle. Careful.
Like she was made of glass.
Like she might shatter if he squeezed too hard.
Like she might *burn* if he let go.
"I'm sorry," he whispered one more time.
Into her hair. Into the space between them. Into the memory of screaming that only he could hear.
Second landed on Ellaya's shoulder. Chirped. Soft. Concerned. The bird's small head tilted. Black eyes studying Sable's face.
*Are you okay?*
Sable reached up. Touched the bird's head gently.
"I'm okay," he lied.
Second didn't believe him.
Bang stood nearby. Watching. His expression complicated. Understanding something without words—that Sable was apologizing for something that hadn't happened. Something Ellaya didn't remember.
Something that would *never* leave him.
Across the yard, Malvric was examining his ruined dagger. The bent blade. The warped metal.
He dropped it.
Looked at Sable. At the way he held Ellaya. At the broken thing wearing human skin and pretending it was fine.
His black eyes—no longer red, the compulsion faded—revealed nothing.
But his smile was small. Understanding.
He'd seen this before. In himself. In others.
Sable was still kneeling. Understanding
The weight of erased timelines.
The cost of second chances.
The realization that saving someone didn't erase the memory of failing them.
The wind picked up. Blowing smoke away. Revealing the wasteland beyond.
Empty.
Silent.
Ash was gone.
Hunting them.
Remembering their faces.
But for now—
For this moment—
They'd survived.
Barely.
Together.
And that had to be enough.