The Hall of Shadows was colder than the rest of Daesan Academy , colder than anywhere should be in late summer.
Sung Min stood before its towering doors just before midnight, heart hammering. The wood was warped and dark, carved with old protective runes that no longer glowed. He could feel the air shift around him , thick with silence, like the world was holding its breath.
He pushed the door.
It opened without a sound.
Inside, the hall stretched long and hollow, lined with cracked pillars and shattered lanterns. Moonlight spilled through broken windows in narrow shafts, illuminating the dust that danced in the air like slow-falling snow.
The note had said to come alone.
So he did.
"You're early," a voice said from the shadows.
Sung Min turned quickly, fists clenched, heart racing.
A girl stepped out from behind a column , older than him by a year or two, with sharp eyes and a silver-threaded braid that shimmered as she moved. Her uniform bore a crest he didn't recognize , not one of the school's current houses.
"You wrote the note?" he asked.
She nodded. "Name's Ara. And you're Sung Min. The boy who lit wildfire without meaning to."
His stomach dropped. "How do you,,,,"
"News travels fast," she said, cutting him off. "Especially when it involves blue flame and a boy who was supposed to be Void."
She walked past him, into the center of the hall. With a flick of her wrist, a small crystal floated from her sleeve, casting pale light across the stone.
"You touched the pillar, didn't you?"
Sung Min hesitated. Then nodded.
"I thought so," Ara murmured. "Only someone connected to the Fifth Flame could have found it. Let alone survived."
He stepped closer. "What is the Fifth Flame?"
Ara looked at him, serious now. "It's not fire the way others know it. It's older. Wilder. It burns through illusion. Through memory. Through time. And once it touches you..."
She raised her hand. Her fingers shimmered briefly with blue fire. The same kind as his.
"...it never lets go."
Sung Min stared. "You… you have it too?"
"I did. Once." Her voice dropped. "But not anymore."
"What happened?"
Ara's expression darkened. "That's why I brought you here."
She gestured toward the center of the hall , toward a cracked circle in the stone floor, etched with faint glyphs in a language that made Sung Min's head ache just to look at.
"This was the trial chamber. For initiates of the Fifth Order. The Echoes of Flame."
He stared at the markings. "Why me?"
"Because it chose you. The flame. The voice. The stone. You're its heir, whether you want to be or not." She took a step forward, lowering her voice. "But that power , it draws things. Things that were sealed a long time ago."
As she spoke, the temperature dropped again.
And then the glyphs lit up , faintly at first, then brighter, searing blue.
Sung Min gasped. "I didn't do anything,,,,"
"It's reacting to you," Ara said. "The Hall remembers."
The air thickened. Shadows on the wall began to move , not with the wind, but with intention. One of them detached from the others and stepped into the circle.
It had no face, no voice , just the shape of a man, made from smoke and hunger.
Ara swore under her breath. "You awakened an Echo."
"What do I do?"
She looked at him grimly. "You pass the trial."
The shadow lunged.The shadow lunged.
Sung Min barely had time to raise his arms before it was on him — cold as winter rain, fast as lightning.
It didn't strike like a creature of flesh. It passed through him, a wave of unbearable cold and a flood of memories that weren't his.
Screams. Fire. A boy crying in a burning field. A voice whispering, "He is the flame reborn."
He staggered back, choking, clutching his chest. The blue fire beneath his skin flared to life, lighting up his veins like cracks in glass.
Ara moved then, fast and sharp. With a whispered word, the crystal above her hand flashed, casting a shimmering shield between them and the shadow. It hissed — a sound like steam escaping a dying engine — and retreated a few steps, flickering at the edges.
"You're not controlling it," Ara said. "You're feeling it. Let go."
Sung Min fell to one knee. "It showed me things. I saw—"
"You always see, when it touches you. That's what Echoes are. Fragments of those who came before. Of those who failed."
The shadow circled now, slower, more cautious. It seemed to watch him.
Ara dropped beside him, voice low. "This isn't a battle. It's a memory trying to decide if you belong. You have to show it.""Show it what?"
She met his eyes. "That you remember."
Sung Min blinked. The burning in his chest throbbed again — and this time, he didn't resist. He closed his eyes and leaned into the fire.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, a shape formed. Not the Echo. Not Ara. Something else.
A figure in blue flames. A man with a scar down his face, holding a burning blade, standing in this very hall, a hundred years ago. He wasn't afraid.
He commanded the fire.
The flames whispered: "We are not destruction. We are truth."
Sung Min opened his eyes. The Echo lunged again.
This time, he didn't flinch. He stepped into the shadow, hand raised — and the fire met it.
Where shadow touched skin, blue flame bloomed outward like ink in water. The Echo gave a soundless cry, and for a second, it had eyes — wide, human, grateful.
Then it vanished in a shimmer of ash and light.
Silence returned to the Hall.
Sung Min swayed on his feet. Ara caught his arm before he fell.
"You remembered," she whispered, almost like she hadn't expected him to. "You really remembered."
He looked at her, chest still heaving. "What... what was that?"
"Your first Echo. The first of many." She stood slowly, helping him up. "The Fifth Flame doesn't give power. It gives truth. But truth isn't free. It demands memory. Pain. Sacrifice."
He stared at the cracked glyphs beneath them. They'd gone dark again.
Ara turned away. "Come on. If you survived the first trial, others will feel it. We don't have much time."
"Others?"
"Echoes," she said grimly. "And worse."
Sung Min followed, the fire inside him still burning, no longer wild — but watching.
Waiting.