Kai didn't go home right away.
After the battle, the air still reeked of scorched bark and burning nerves. The park had been evacuated, cordoned off by a shaky wall of police tape and trembling officers. Muted helicopters swirled overhead. Sirens blared. And yet, through it all, no one dared approach him.
No one except the cameras.
He ducked into an alley as soon as the tension broke. His legs still ached, his lungs felt thin—but the fire inside him was steady now. Steady and watchful. Like it had expectations.
He didn't like that.
He wanted quiet. Not just around him—inside.
The walk to his mother's apartment in Queens took longer than usual. Not just because he was exhausted, but because the city wasn't the same. Buildings hummed faintly when he passed. Pigeons watched from fire escapes like they knew something. Every shadow felt too long.
When he opened the door to their apartment, the smell of lentils and old books met him.
"Kai?"
His mother was in the kitchen. Loose bun, oversized hoodie, dark circles under her eyes. She turned with a frown that melted instantly when she saw him.
"Oh, thank God," she whispered, crossing the room and pulling him into a tight hug.
Kai didn't hug back right away.
Then he did.
Her fingers found his face, checking for burns, bruises. "I saw you. On the news. They said... there was some kind of explosion?"
Kai tried to smile. Failed. "More like a monster."
She pulled back, eyes scanning his. "You're not hurt?"
"Not on the outside."
She looked like she wanted to say something more—but didn't. Instead, she just nodded slowly. "Sit. You're pale."
He sat. The apartment felt too warm. Too normal.
"How's Serena?" he asked quietly.
His mother blinked. "She hasn't come by since Friday."
Kai nodded.
Then, as if summoned by memory, his phone buzzed. A single text:
Serena:I saw you. You idiot. Are you okay? Also what the hell was that?
He stared at it.
Before he could reply, another came.
Serena:Meet me. After you rest. We need to talk.
He almost smiled.
Serena met him later that evening by the edge of Astoria Park. She was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, hair tied back in a messy braid. A pair of scuffed sneakers and a sarcasm-laced glare made her look exactly like home.
"You really gonna walk past me like you didn't set a tree monster on fire this morning?" she called.
Kai stopped. "I didn't set it on fire. I… bound it. Then burned it a little."
Serena rolled her eyes and pushed off the rail. "You look like hell."
"Thanks."
She hesitated, then stepped close. Her voice dropped. "You scared me."
"I scared myself."
There was a pause. Then she punched his shoulder—not hard.
"That's for not telling me," she muttered.
"Didn't know how."
"Well, start figuring it out. Because whatever this is," she gestured vaguely toward his chest, "you're not doing it alone."
He looked down. "I don't want to pull you into it."
"Too late. I'm in."
He didn't argue.
And maybe for the first time since waking the flame, he didn't feel alone.
Serena sat down beside him on the park bench, the city lights casting long shadows across the river. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet was comfortable. Familiar.
But the world wasn't.
Sirens still echoed faintly from downtown. Somewhere far off, something howled—a sound too deep, too guttural to belong to any dog.
Kai rubbed his palm where the sigil had flared. It no longer glowed, but he could feel it—like a slow pulse beneath the skin.
"What do you think's happening to the city?" Serena asked softly.
Kai looked at her, then at the dark skyline. "I don't think it's just the city."
Serena pulled her jacket tighter as the wind picked up. Across the water, the Empire State Building flickered—just for a moment.
Kai noticed. "Did you see that?"
"Yeah," she said. "Power surge?"
"No." He could feel it, faint but distinct. Like the city itself had shivered. "It's spiritual energy. Everything's shifting."
Serena leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. "So what now? Are we just going to wait around for another tree monster to show up?"
"No."
"Good. Because I brought snacks."
Kai raised a brow as she pulled a crushed pack of granola bars from her bag. "Very heroic."
She offered him one. "You burn things. I bring carbs. It's a team effort."
He almost laughed. Took it.
Then his phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Serena.
UNKNOWN:We saw what you did.
UNKNOWN:You're not the only one waking up.
Kai felt his spine tighten.
"What is it?" Serena asked, noticing the shift in his expression.
He showed her the messages. "I think things are about to get a lot more complicated."
As if on cue, a low rumble echoed from behind them. Not thunder. Not traffic.
A tremor.
They both stood. Around them, streetlights dimmed, then sparked to life again.
Kai reached out with his senses. His flame pulsed, alert. A presence was near—untrained, raw, but powerful.
They weren't alone.
A figure stumbled from behind a dumpster across the street. A boy, maybe seventeen, dressed in a hoodie two sizes too big, eyes wide with panic. His hands glowed faintly green.
Kai moved before thinking, crossing the street. "Hey! Stop!"
The boy flinched. "I—I don't know what's happening to me!"
His energy flared wildly, pulsing outward in erratic bursts. A mailbox melted. The sidewalk cracked.
"Serena, back up," Kai said, stepping forward.
"Got it." She moved quickly, pulling bystanders away.
Kai approached slowly. "What's your name?"
"Ezra," the boy choked out. "I—I didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"You won't," Kai said. "Just breathe. Try to anchor it."
"I can't control it!" Ezra's glow surged. Glass shattered in nearby windows. A car alarm screamed.
Kai felt his own flame rise in response. He didn't want to fight this kid.
So he did the only thing he could.
He opened his palm.
"Focus on me," he said. "Match your pulse to mine. Feel it slow down."
Ezra's breath caught. He stared at Kai's palm.
One second. Two.
Then the glow receded slightly.
Just enough.
Kai stepped closer, placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder.
"I've been where you are. This doesn't have to control you."
Ezra collapsed forward, sobbing.
Kai caught him.
From across the street, Serena watched. Her eyes said what her mouth didn't:
Things were changing. Fast.
From the rooftop above, a small mechanical drone blinked to life—its camera lens whirring as it tracked the trio below. Half a mile away, in a darkened apartment lined with cables and flickering monitors, a woman in a patched leather jacket watched the screen.
She wasn't surprised to see another Awakened.
But she was surprised to see him.
"Looks like the firestarter's real," she muttered.
Behind her, a man with a thin scar across his cheek leaned forward. "Ezra Carson. He's on our list."
She nodded. "And now he's not the only one."
Her gaze lingered on Kai's image. She didn't know his name yet. But something about the way he moved, the way he calmed the chaos, set her instincts off.
More were coming.
And they were running out of time.
Back in Queens, Kai jolted upright as his phone vibrated again.
UNKNOWN:There are more. Some close. Some very far. Some not so human anymore.
He stared at it. Serena leaned in. "What does it mean?"
Kai stood slowly. "It means Ezra wasn't the start. Just the signal."
Serena looked toward the window, toward the skyline.
"Then what's next?"
Kai didn't answer.
Because in his bones, he felt it: a current rising, ancient and wild. And above all… not waiting.
As Kai lowered the phone, his thoughts raced. Ezra's arrival had been chaotic—raw, untrained—but it was proof of a larger pattern. This awakening wasn't isolated. It was a ripple in a rising tide.
Serena picked up the granola wrapper and sat back down. "I think we need to figure out how many others there are. And fast."
Kai nodded slowly. "We're not the only ones. I can feel them—sparks lighting across the city."
In Chinatown, Mara Jinsong knelt beside a screaming man on the sidewalk. Her fingers hovered near his temples, lips moving in a silent mantra. He convulsed. Cried. Around them, the crowd dared not approach.
She stood up, eyes distant.
She remembered everything. So did he.
On the upper floors of a Harlem apartment building, firefighter Ezekiel Stone watched smoke curl from his halberd. It wasn't real metal—just the shape of it, summoned from memory and soul. His nickname on the crew had always been Ash Saint. Now, it wasn't just a name.
He walked toward the fire line with slow, practiced steps, a ghost of purpose trailing in his wake.
Lia Moreno spun through the center of a frozen fountain in Central Park, her laughter tight, unsure. The storm she summoned shimmered around her in wild spirals. She tried to rein it in.
It laughed back.
And deep in the Bronx, beneath the bones of an old boxing gym, Harlan Vesk—half-man, half-lion—stood before a dozen kneeling figures. His voice growled with authority.
"The world is finally remembering what power means. And we're going to make sure it remembers us."
Kai didn't know their names yet. But their stories were coming.
Morning crept in through Kai's apartment windows, a pale gray light that barely touched the warmth inside. Ezra was still asleep on the couch, curled beneath an old quilt. Serena had passed out in the armchair somewhere around 3 a.m., her head resting on one fist, her other hand loosely holding a notepad covered in chaotic scrawl.
Kai stood at the window, shirtless, muscles sore, eyes locked on the skyline.
"Again," a voice said behind him.
He turned. Ilia stood near the kitchen, arms folded, gaze sharp as ever.
Next to her, Daemon was casually leaning on the counter, sipping tea from a chipped mug that most definitely did not belong to him.
"Your flame flow is messy," Ilia said. "Too wild. No grounding. It will devour you if you're not careful."
Kai rubbed the sigil on his chest. "You think I don't know that?"
"You don't feel it. Not fully."
Daemon raised a hand. "Alright, fire boy. Let's speed this up. Ilia and I are leaving."
Kai blinked. "What?"
"There's movement on the other side," Daemon said. "Not in your Earth—around it. Someone's pushing boundaries they shouldn't. We're the only ones who can stop it."
Ilia nodded. "But we won't be gone long. Hopefully."
Kai's brow furrowed. "So you're just leaving? Now?"
"Not without giving you tools," Ilia said. She stepped forward and flicked her fingers toward him. "Brace."
Pain lanced through his chest. The sigil glowed, expanded slightly, and a pulse of power surged through him. He gasped but stayed standing.
"You now have access to Flame Echoes," she said. "You'll understand them when you need to."
Daemon finished his tea and added, "And we left something in your basement. You'll find it when the time's right."
Kai stared at both of them, stunned. "That's it? No scroll, no final training montage?"
Ilia allowed herself the faintest smile. "This isn't the end, Kai. It's your beginning."
With that, they stepped through the thin shimmer of a portal and vanished.
Kai stood there for a long time.
Behind him, Ezra stirred. "Was that a dream?"
Kai turned back toward the window. "No. Just another damn Tuesday."