Resonance Unbound

A sharp, searing pain jolted Ezra out of his focus, forcing his eyes open. The air around him was thick with the acrid stench of charred wood and ash. He blinked, disoriented, as his surroundings came into view—or what was left of them. The shelter was gone, reduced to nothing more than a heap of blackened, smoking rubble.

Everywhere he looked, the landscape bore the same destruction. The ground was scorched, darkened to a brittle black that cracked under the faintest breeze. The devastation stretched out in every direction, as far as his eyes could see—at least a kilometer of utter ruin. Nothing had been spared.

The trees, once tall and sturdy, were now skeletal remains, their branches twisted and broken, as if reaching toward the sky in a final plea before being consumed. Scattered across the expanse were faint outlines of animals, their lifeless forms barely recognizable, burned down to brittle remnants.

Ezra staggered to his feet, his body aching, the pain in his chest still lingering like a dull ember. He turned in a slow circle, trying to piece together what had happened. His mind raced, but every question hit the same wall of confusion.

Did a fire happen?

The thought felt absurd, even as it crossed his mind. When he'd last closed his eyes, there had been no hint of smoke, no warning signs—nothing to suggest the destruction now surrounding him. Fires didn't just erupt out of nowhere, not like this, not with such complete annihilation.

A fire-breathing monster, maybe? The idea was ridiculous, but it lingered. Then again, why would he be alive if something like that had attacked?

A forest fire?

It seemed more plausible, but the devastation was too controlled, too precise. No natural fire could scorch everything to this degree in such a short time. His gaze swept over the horizon, searching for anything that could explain the desolation.

An electrical wire? Maybe something shorted and—

He snorted, cutting himself off. "Yeah, right, electrical wires out here in the middle of nowhere. Great theory, genius."

Crossing off one possibility after another, Ezra scratched the back of his head, frustration bubbling up.

"A fire-breathing monster… maybe. But then, why am I still alive? If it attacked, it'd have torched me too, right? Or at least taken a bite." He smirked faintly, shaking his head. "Everybody wants a piece of me these days, huh?"

But something didn't sit right. This wasn't random destruction. It felt deliberate, like the devastation had a source—a center.

He took a slow breath, scanning the wasteland again. "Speaking of forest fires… where the hell is Shirley?"

His stomach tightened as he scanned the expanse more frantically now. There was no sign of his mentor—no footprints, no outline, no gruff commentary breaking through the tension.

And then he heard it.

A faint sound, almost lost in the crackling remains of what was once the shelter. A low groan, followed by the unmistakable sound of something shifting beneath the rubble.

Ezra's pulse quickened, and he turned sharply toward the noise. His chest burned with the effort, but he ignored it, stumbling over the charred ground toward the source.

"Shirley?" he called out, his voice rough but tinged with urgency.

The groan came again, louder this time, followed by a string of muffled curses that could only belong to one person.

Ezra let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him as he quickened his pace, already bracing himself for whatever sarcastic remark Shirley would throw his way.

"You bastard, you little white gremlin!" Shirley's voice rasped as he emerged, coughing and wheezing, from beneath a collapsed beam.

Ezra crouched to help, a smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. "Let me help you up first."

"Help my ass," Shirley retorted, spluttering as Ezra hauled him free. "Is this payback for earlier? You trying to burn me alive, you little shit?"

The older man coughed, waving away the ash as he sat upright. Miraculously, he didn't seem to have a single injury—apart from the dust and soot coating his tattered clothes.

"Burn you alive? Why would I do that? I'm way too nice for that." Ezra's voice carried a teasing lilt as he glanced at Shirley.

Shirley shot him a sharp glare, jabbing a finger at the charred wasteland around them. "Look around, genius. See what you did."

"What I did?" Ezra echoed, his brow furrowing. "Oh."

Realization dawned as his gaze swept over the devastation once more. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but Shirley's words left no room for doubt. Whatever had caused this… had come from him.

Ezra's smirk faded, replaced by a growing knot of unease. "This can't be…"

Shirley sighed heavily, running a hand through his soot-streaked beard. "Kid, you've got a hell of a lot to learn. Starting with how not to burn everything within a damn kilometer next time you decide to meditate."

Ezra stared at his mentor, his mind reeling. The flame—the light—it had felt like a part of him. But he hadn't thought it could do this.

He took a shaky breath, glancing at his hands as though expecting them to burst into flames again. "I didn't mean to—"

"Yeah, well, intent doesn't change the fact that you turned this place into a wasteland," Shirley interrupted, coughing again. His tone softened slightly, though his irritation was still clear. 

Ezra's jaw tightened. "How am I supposed to control something I don't even understand?"

"That's the first smart thing you've said all day." Shirley stood, brushing ash from his clothes. "You're not gonna figure this out on your own, which means you're stuck with me until you do."

Ezra blinked, surprised by the rare hint of sincerity in Shirley's voice. "So… what now?"

Shirley grunted, gesturing to the destroyed landscape around them. "Now? Now we move. There's nothing left here, thanks to you."

Ezra opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. He looked around one last time, the weight of what had happened settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Let's go," he muttered, following Shirley as they began to make their way through the scorched remains of the forest.