[ A hero's death isn't silence — it echoes inside the hearts of those who loved him. ]
… And now he's gone.
This morning was his funeral. The courtyard was overflowing with people — every eye red, every breath heavy. Cries filled the air like a storm, yet something felt painfully clear: not a single person there was a stranger to him. Everyone loved him.
His photograph was framed with white flowers. His eyes — those familiar eyes — looked as if they still held life. When I stepped forward to place my flowers, I felt a strong hand on my shoulder… firm, protective, familiar. I turned instantly.
No one was there.
Only the weight of disappointment in my chest.
I couldn't stay long — who could stay still at their best friend's funeral? Memories kept crashing into my mind, dragging me back to the days when we were young. I could see him clearly, just as he was then… Ignis, smiling.
I remember the first time we met. He was brave, confident, calm — the kind of person who instantly steals attention. I hated it. I was jealous from the very first day.
And why wouldn't I be? When a new student snatches the topper's spot, jealousy is inevitable… no matter how hard you pretend otherwise.
But he never cared about that rivalry. He treated me like a close friend from day one. Sometimes he even called me his best friend — and I always laughed it off. But deep inside… I knew he meant it.
He wasn't just a teammate. He became family.
There was something unusual in his eyes — we called it the Devil's Eye. It allowed him to see what no one else could. To the world, it was a gift. But to him… it was a curse. Pain followed him wherever he went, as if fate took pleasure in breaking him again and again. Yet he never complained.
He accepted every wound with a gentle smile.
He taught me how to smile after suffering. How to care while putting himself in danger. How to keep walking after losing everything.
He was a true legend.
Everything began the day he awakened his powers in Winerose City Hospital — the day he first faced Nocturo. From that moment on, he hunted hellbornes relentlessly. He saved countless lives… and lost countless pieces of himself in return.
In the end, he changed the world. He made it a place where people no longer fear the monsters in the dark.
And now, tonight… under the dim glow of a single candle, with silence wrapping around me like a shroud, I can feel him beside me. His warmth is faint, but still there — reminding me that legends never die.
They simply rest.
Thank you, my friend. Thank you for standing beside me… until the very end.
His name was Ignis Karlon. May his soul rest in peace — and may his fire never fade.
Just as I finished writing these words, a sudden gust blew through the room.
The candle — which hadn't flickered in hours — went out.
And then… I heard a whisper.
Soft. Familiar.
"Run."