Darkness pressed against the walls of the high-security command room. Cold lights buzzed faintly overhead as a cluster of black-coated officers leaned over the war table.
At its center, a frozen holographic image shimmered: a boy wreathed in crackling blue flames. His eyes were half-closed. His arm outstretched. A demon reduced to ash in front of him.
No one spoke at first.
"He awakened," muttered one general, voice low with disbelief. "Outside of protocol."
Another scoffed. "The exam was a simulation, not a spark for Armageddon."
"He wasn't supposed to react at all," added the head scientist, calmly adjusting his glasses. "The Inferno Drive rejection rate is still 100% in his case."
"Then he's useless."
"No," the scientist said, almost smiling. "He's more than useful. We built him to destroy the divine and the damned. A living countermeasure. A final flame."
"Too unstable. We can't deploy what we can't control."
"And yet," the scientist said softly, "we can't kill him, either… can we?"
Murmurs passed like wind.
Someone at the far end of the table cleared their throat. "Perhaps he doesn't need to be alive to serve his purpose."
No one answered.
"He's never been normal. No Drive, no compatibility, no anchor. Just a name… and that fire."
"Don't forget the girl," someone else added. "Eira. She shielded him. Perfect Drive sync. She's top of her unit."
"She showed promise. But she can't anchor him."
Then—
Footsteps echoed through the chamber.
A voice followed. Calm. Unshaken.
"Then let me train him."
Heads turned. The Vice Captain stepped into the light — expression unreadable, face half-shadowed beneath a high collar.
"You?" the scientist asked. "You think you can guide that thing?"
"I'm not guiding a weapon," the Vice Captain replied. "I'll let the boy prove himself."
---
White light spilled through half-closed blinds, casting soft lines across Azren's resting form. The infirmary was still, the air thick with antiseptic and silence.
He lay motionless, except for the faint movement of his chest.
Beside him, arms crossed, face redder than it should be, Eira sat stiffly in the chair. Her eyes flicked toward him every few seconds before snapping away again.
Then, a murmur.
"Mom… Umbren… I'm sorry…"
Her gaze snapped back.
Azren trembled faintly in his sleep, his fingers curling slightly into the sheets. A tear slid slowly down his cheek, vanishing into the pillow.
Eira leaned in, startled. Her lips parted—but no words came.
What happened to you...?
She didn't know what she was feeling. Pity? Curiosity? Something gentler?
The faint glimmer of his blue hair caught the sunlight. Somehow, it made him look… almost peaceful.
He's kind of pretty, she thought, annoyed at herself. Too pretty for someone who just scorched a demon like a firestorm.
Then—
His eyes opened.
They stared directly into hers.
"Please be gentle… it's my first time," he said, voice still half-dreaming.
"Wha—!?" Eira yelped, leaping back, her face crimson.
"W-Wait! It's not like that! I was just—!"
Azren slowly sat up, wincing. She instinctively lunged forward.
"Be careful! You might be injur—"
Her voice caught in her throat.
Azren's upper body, partially exposed by the bedsheet, was laced with long, faded burn scars. Some looked old. Some disturbingly fresh.
Her breath hitched.
"These aren't demon claws," she whispered. "They're… from flames?"
His own flames… What is he?
Azren noticed her gaze and quickly crossed his arms over his chest.
"Do you mind not ogling my body? It's making me a bit… uncomfortable," he muttered.
"Y-You stupid puppy! Who the hell falls asleep after calling someone mom?!"
He looked down.
"Did I…? I don't even remember what she looks like."
That shut her up.
A moment passed.
No matter what he is… he's still my puppy. Yes. My blue puppy.
She reached out and gently patted his head.
Azren blinked. "What are you doing?"
"Just petting my dog."
"…Woof."
"…Why did you bark?"
"You started it! I don't know what weird things you're into!"
She grabbed his ear and pulled. "You wanna bark like a mutt? Then get treated like one!"
"OW OW OW—!"
From the hallway window, unseen by either of them, a figure watched with a faint, ghostlike grin.
Good to see you can still smile…
---
Back in the war room, chairs scraped gently as the generals stood.
The vote was about to begin.
"All in favor of placing the boy's future under the guidance of the Vice Captain?"
Hands rose, one by one.
It was unanimous.
The head of the table turned.
"Then it's settled. His fate is now in your hands… Vice Captain Kael Renvar."
Kael said nothing.
He turned away and walked out, his coat trailing behind him like a shadow untethered.
---
End of Chapter 4 – A Weapon with a Smile