Several days passed in little Ren's life, quiet and simple. A life filled with warmth—his mother's soft humming while cooking, his father's strong arms lifting him into the air, and his sister's constant chatter about weapons and dreams. For Leon, watching these memories, it was a kind of perfection. A world so far from his own broken body, it felt almost sacred.
But that sacredness shattered one night.
Little Ren's peaceful sleep was torn apart by screams—sharp, panicked screams—and the crackling roar of flames. His small eyes shot open, only to find the world around him engulfed in fire. The ceiling groaned. Smoke filled his lungs.
"Mother! Father! Sister!" he cried out, his voice thin, trembling.
He climbed out of bed on his shaky legs, stumbling toward the door, but—
THUD!
