Ash blanketed the ruins, clinging to what little remained of the village. Homes lay shattered, reduced to skeletal frames. The air reeked of burnt wood, of death. In the center of it all sat a white-haired boy, crouched low. His hands gripped a snake. He tore into it, unflinching, blood smearing his pale face. Around him, silence.

A girl with hair as white as his stepped closer, her figure barely visible through the smoke. Her footsteps were careful, hesitant, as though afraid to disturb the stillness. She stopped a few feet away and spoke, "Why don’t you look sad? Your village... it’s gone."

He looked up. Slowly. His grin was sharp, his eyes bright with something that wasn’t sorrow. "I survived," he said, "So I have to live on. I have a goal. And I’ll pursue it with everything I have."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The girl blinked, surprised. For a moment, the smoke swirled between them, carrying embers like dying stars. Then she spoke again. "Would you like to come with us?"

He tilted his head, studying her. The grin didn’t waver. "Will that help me realize my dream?"

She extended her hand, fingers outstretched. "That’s up to your capability."

He stared at her hand, his grin deepened. "Interesting," he said, taking her hand.

As she helped him stand, ash stirred around them. Behind them was the remnants of a destroyed village. But he didn't look back. His red eyes gazed forward, to the unknown. To whatever came next.