Ashes and Embers

The warehouse is fully engulfed when Soo-Yeon Lee arrives.

Flames pour from every window, orange and hungry, reaching toward the night sky like desperate fingers. The heat hits her through the fire truck's windshield, and she's already pulling on her gear before they come to a complete stop.

"Dispatch says there's someone inside!" Captain Reyes shouts over the roar. "Upper floor, northeast corner!"

Soo-Yeon doesn't hesitate.

She's through the door before anyone can stop her, mask on, axe in hand. The smoke is thick and black, visibility near zero, but she's been doing this for eight years. She knows fire. Knows how it moves, how it breathes, how it kills.

This fire is different.

It's too hot. Too bright. The flames seem almost alive, twisting and dancing in patterns that shouldn't be possible. And the color—

Some of these flames are gold.

Not orange. Not yellow. Gold, like molten metal, like sunlight condensed into fire.

She pushes forward anyway.

The stairs creak dangerously under her boots. The building is old, abandoned for years, and the fire is eating it alive. She has minutes at best before the whole structure comes down.

"Hello?" she shouts. "Fire department! Is anyone here?"

Nothing.

Then—a sound. Not a scream, not a cry for help. Something else. Something that sounds almost like... singing?

She follows it to a room at the end of the hall.

And stops dead.

There's a man in the center of the room.

He's not burning.

He is the fire.

Flames pour from his skin, wreath his body, rise from him like wings—actual wings, she realizes, wings made of pure fire, spreading fifteen feet on either side. His eyes are open, and they're gold, pure gold, and he's looking right at her.

"Run," he says, and his voice sounds like crackling embers. "You shouldn't be here. Run."

Soo-Yeon doesn't run.

She steps forward.

"I'm here to help you," she says, and she has no idea why she's saying it, no idea why she's not terrified, no idea why every instinct is telling her to stay.

Something flickers in those golden eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or wonder.

"You can't help me," he says. "I'm dying."

"Then I'll carry you out."

"You don't understand. I'm dying. This is how I die. In fire. Always in fire."

The building groans. Somewhere below, something collapses.

"Then die somewhere else," Soo-Yeon snaps. "Because this building is coming down in two minutes, and I'm not leaving you here."

She reaches for him.

The moment her gloved hand touches his arm, everything changes.

The fire—all of it, the whole infe...