The morning sun spilled over the academy's towering walls, casting elongated shadows onto the cobblestone paths. At its grand entrance, two figures stood—one preparing to leave, the other struggling to let go.
**"Take care, Dawn."**
Sunny's voice carried a weight that neither of them could ignore.
Dawn grinned, shaking his head. **"You too, Sunny. But cheer up—it's not like I'm vanishing forever. It's just a couple of weeks."**
Sunny exhaled sharply, shifting on his feet, the words caught in his throat.
**"I know, man, but—"**
Dawn raised a hand, silencing him. **"No buts. We'll meet again—stronger, sharper, survivors. Elite warriors in this world. Got that? No matter how far we're separated, we both know—"** He paused, gaze unwavering. **"We'll find a way to survive."**
For a moment, neither spoke. Then, a smile tugged at the corner of Sunny's lips.
**"Alright, man. But don't forget—you still owe me."**
Dawn chuckled, throwing a lazy wave behind him as he turned toward the sprawling city ahead.
Sunny remained at the gates, watching as his friend's silhouette grew smaller and smaller—until he could no longer see him.
An hour later, Dawn stood before the outskirts' towering border wall—the crude, unrelenting structure that separated chaos from order, captivity from freedom.
His fingers traced the worn metal, the harsh cold biting at his skin.
**_It makes sense that I'd come back here._**
It was here that his nightmares had begun. And now, it was here that his journey would continue.
**"Here goes nothing."**
Summoning his flames, he directed them toward his hands and feet, feeling their heat surge through him. The sensation was intoxicating—power flowing through his limbs, urging him forward.
With calculated movements, he scaled the wall, adjusting to the newfound strength coursing through his veins.
A final pull—and he was over.
For the first time in his life, he had left NQSC behind.
Ahead, the wilderness sprawled like a breathing entity—wild, untamed, waiting.
He stepped forward, the weight of his decision settling in his bones.
The air was thick—poisonous, suffocating. The pollution clawed at his lungs, pressing in like an unseen force. He coughed, but didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Not yet.
He pushed forward, deeper into the unknown, until he came upon a clearing.
The trees—though alive—looked anything but. Their bark was splintered, their leaves wilted, their trunks twisted as if caught in some eternal battle against decay.
**_Even the land itself is fighting to survive._**
Dawn placed his bag down, surveying his surroundings.
Inside, he had only the essentials—a few changes of clothing, basic tools for survival, a sleeping bag, a tent, and a handful of supplies.
It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
He set up camp, lighting a fire before sitting down, cross-legged, before the flames.
**_Every comic I've ever read says the same thing._**
**_Look inward._**
**_Seek the soul sea._**
Closing his eyes, he steadied his breathing.
And soon, something shifted.
It was subtle at first—a deep pull at his consciousness. Then, as if gravity itself had inverted, he was falling.
Dawn stood at the center of his soul sea, surrounded by vast waters that stretched into eternity.
Above, there was only darkness—a boundless sky, void of stars.
Yet, at the heart of it all, something pulsed—brilliant, radiant, **alive**.
His **soul core**.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the moment.
For the first time, his emotions did not burn inside him.
There was no sorrow. No rage. No fleeting hope. No helplessness gnawing at his sanity.
Only silence.
Only **clarity**.
Finally, he could focus.
**_A divine aspect will always triumph over a blade._**
Though he would still wield a sword, he knew now—his true strength lay beyond steel.
He reached his hand toward the core, its flames dancing at the edge of his fingertips.
And then—something stirred.
From the depths, a presence emerged.
A flame.
Soft, fluid, flickering with consciousness.
It did not burn him.
It **embraced** him.
Dawn watched as it curled around his arm, gentle in its touch.
**"What are you, buddy?"**
The flame pulsed in response, as if excited by his mere acknowledgment.
**"Are you born of my core? Or… my aspect?"**
Something deep inside him whispered the answer.
**_Aspect._**
Dawn's grin widened. **"So, do you want to see what we can do together?"**
The flame practically **jumped** at his words, its energy overflowing.
Summoning the **Dawn Breaker**, his katana manifested in a storm of crimson sparks. He wrapped the gentle flame around the blade, curious if he could ignite it, enhancing its presence.
But instead, the fire surrounded **him**.
White-orange light outlined his form, pulsating like a second skin.
His body surged with raw power.
**_This is… insane._**
Strength coursed through him, magnified beyond reason.
But he felt it—a pull at his essence. A slow drain.
Too soon. Too much.
He ordered the flame to stop.
The energy faded.
Dawn exhaled.
**"That was unexpected."**
A grin curled at his lips. **"But definitely welcomed."**
He wasn't strong enough yet.
But when he was?
**_I'll be a monster._**
The flame responded to his thoughts, retreating into his soul, waiting.
**"You and I are going to make a great team."**
The fire bounced excitedly in response.
**"Can you hide somewhere? Stay close?"**
Eager to display another trick, the flame slithered up his arm, tickling his cheek before slipping into his **eyes**—completely disappearing.
Dawn blinked.
**"Okay. That's weird. But I kinda like it."**
At his command, the flame flickered back into his palm, emerging from his eyes.
Dawn laughed, watching the fire twist playfully between his fingers.
By the time he looked up, the sky had darkened.
**_I got distracted._**
But this was good.
For the first time, his mind was **his own**.
His thoughts were not muddled. His emotions were not clawing at his sanity.
And more importantly—he understood now.
The **Dawn Fire** was not merely a ability.
It was **a partnership**.
**"What do you think, gentle flame? Let's grow strong together."**
The fire crackled in response, like laughter.
Dawn entered his tent, lighting a lantern.
For the first time in years, he lay down and slept—**peacefully**.