The night had been consumed by flames.
Not from the sky... but from the forge.
Rendhal hammered the metal with his mechanical arm, shouting instructions.
The place was a sanctuary of pain and purpose.
The walls vibrated with every hammer blow. The embers flickered as if breathing.
Everything here seemed to have a soul... and judgment.
"Again!" Rendhal roared.
I gritted my teeth and raised the sword for the fifth time, feeling the blade burn against my palm.
It was as if it was testing my will itself.
Ken trained in silence, repeatedly cutting the air with his new double-bladed katana.
Zayen could already move fragments of earth with a simple flick of his ankle.
Rhok placed blocks on his shoulders to strengthen his resistance while muttering curses under his breath.
But me... I was the only one who spoke with fire.
"Your soul doesn't yet beat to the rhythm of the metal," Rendhal said, sharpening an igneous core on his manual lathe. "The day that happens... you won't need to use the sword. It will do it for you."
I collapsed onto a bench, sweaty, trembling.
"Why did it choose me?"
Rendhal approached slowly, his articulated body resonating with each step.
He didn't walk like others.
He wore a mechanical exoskeleton attached to his torso and back, a structure that allowed him to stand and move even though his legs no longer responded.
The machine supported him, but the fire still pushed him.
"The Keys are delivered directly by the Dark King after long training," he said, still not looking at me. "But this one... this one is different. Its last wielder decided to rebel, not to follow the orders of the Dark Empire. That's why the sword chooses whoever can bear the weight of those who die along the way."
He fell silent. Then he stared at me.
His left eye glowed like an ember.
"Now tell me, Nilo... what is your purpose?"
"I want to know more about my past. If you can read minds, do it with me."
"You don't remember much about that night, do you? But I can't read just anyone's mind. I can only do it if there's a direct intention towards me. If someone attacks me or thinks of doing so, I can foresee it. But if they plan to attack you first, I won't know... unless they come for me afterward."
He sighed.
"Besides, those memories aren't there. When I connected to your mind that day, I saw that you don't have them. They're like a black hole in your memory."
I felt that loneliness again that had pursued me my whole life.
I took a deep breath.
"I understand. I'll keep looking for answers."
⬛ Interlude – The Echoes of the Empire
Far away, in a tower submerged in liquid shadow, a figure covered in black folds contemplated a burning map.
"The Sword of Fire has awakened... That rebel changed its purpose," a hoarse voice whispered. "And a new Chosen One lives."
A guard, dressed in obsidian armor and the symbol of a devoured moon, knelt.
"Should we activate Prime Squadron?"
The figure didn't answer.
He only turned to a pillar where four symbols hung: Water. Earth. Wind. Fire.
One glowed.
The others... slept.
🛠️ Back at the Forge
That night, as we healed wounds with salt water and improvised bandages, I spoke with Ken.
"We must form a Baika squadron. Search for the other wielders. Or those who could be."
Ken nodded.
"Each Key responds to a different will. There will be those who don't want to join. Or who have already been consumed."
Rhok sat beside us, chewing stale bread.
"If there's a war coming, we'd better form an army. Even if it's an army of madmen."
Zayen raised his fuel can in a toast.
"Let them be madmen... but with purpose."
I understood it at that instant.
We weren't just fugitives.
We weren't just warriors.
We were something new.
Something born between ash and steel.
I looked at Rendhal.
"Will you help us gather the squadron?"
He smiled, for the first time in a long time.
"I will train them... but the flame must come from you. I will only teach you not to extinguish before the end. But you must divide. Zayen and Rhok must stay a little longer."
I stood up. I looked at my companions. I looked at the sword.
I felt its heat, its weight, its judgment.
And then I said:
"From now on... our Baika Club, our brotherhood... will be known as The Fire Swords."
That night, under the stars, we sealed the oath.
We weren't mere motorcyclists.
We were shapers of destiny.
We were fire.
We were Swords.