Day Five begins with a smell.
Iron.
Sweat.
Dried blood baked into stone.
And something worse — the stale smoke of torches that warm nothing.
Time doesn't exist inside a cage.
There's only pain.
And noise.
Boots on wood.Students whimpering.Blows landing.And sometimes…
the silence right before someone stops breathing.
Three of us share this prison.
Me.
Oryn.
Rhaen.
Our arms are tied above our heads. The ropes have burned our wrists raw. Our knees press into wet stone. If we shift, the rope bites deeper. If we breathe too hard, blood pools into our fingers.
Oryn is shaking.
Not metaphorically.
His jaw snaps sometimes, like his body refuses to admit fear.
"They won't kill us," he whispers, staring at the ground.
Rhaen keeps scanning the camp.
Always searching.
"Shut up," Rhaen hisses. "You'll get us noticed."
Oryn swallows.
"Did you hear… yesterday?"
We all heard.
The screams.
The executions.
The sound of bodies dragged across dirt.
This isn't a base.
It's a slaughterhouse.
Through the bars I see students.
Some sit, hollow.
Some lie down, too still.
Sometimes a soldier walks past, picks someone, and leaves with them.
No one comes back.
The worst part?
They're not rushed.
They do it calmly.
Like it's routine.
A soldier stops in front of a nearby cage.
A boy begs.
The soldier fires.
One dry crack.
The body slumps.
Oryn stifles a sob.
Rhaen's face drains of color.
I don't look away.
If I do, I'll break.
Boots approach.
Two soldiers.
They stop in front of us.
"That one," one says.
Pointing at me.
Oryn whispers:
"Brask…"
They drag me out like livestock.
My knees slam into stone. My shoulders burn.
Inside the largest tent, the air is thick.
Hot.
A man waits.
Not a regular soldier.
An Earth Warrior.
His presence is heavy. Controlled. Dangerous.
"Name."
"Brask Helor."
"Class?"
"1B."
He smiles faintly.
"A child."
He circles me.
"Why are you on the island?"
"Survival test."
He laughs.
"Lie."
He stops behind me.
"Your Academy doesn't send children here to survive. It sends you to die."
Silence.
"What are the Fire Kingdom's objectives?"
"I don't know."
He punches me in the ribs.
Air leaves my lungs.
He grabs my hair.
"Again."
The earth rises beneath my knees.
A thin spike pushes slowly into my skin.
Pain — sharp and deliberate.
He wants me alive.
"For now."
"What are your plans?"
"I don't have any—"
The spike presses deeper.
I scream.
He crouches.
"You Fire types… all passion. No discipline."
He slaps me.
"You'll talk."
And I know he means it.
We've been moving for hours.
Mud clings to our boots. Hunger gnaws. Fear never leaves.
Kaïros raises a fist.
We freeze.
Patrol.
Five soldiers pass, laughing.
Serah's fists tighten.
We move again.
A student's body lies ahead.
Throat opened.
I force myself to look.
Then I keep walking.
The sun lowers.
Finally—
Torches.
The camp.
Palisades.
Armored silhouettes.
"Found it," Kaïros murmurs.
Serah swallows.
"What now?" Selene whispers.
"We observe. We wait."
We circle.
Shadows. Rocks. Silence.
Then—
Click.
Selene's foot triggers a mechanism.
A flare rockets into the sky.
The ground collapses beneath her.
She screams.
Ten soldiers burst from the camp.
"There!"
Kaïros mutters, "Damn."
I feel it settle inside me.
No hesitation.
Just decision.
"Serah, support. Kaïros left. I take right."
Serah inhales.
Her fire compresses into arrows — sharp and precise. They whistle through the air and detonate against shields.
Two soldiers roll back, burned but alive.
Kaïros moves.
Celestial Fire wraps his hand.
He flows through two opponents in a single motion — thrust, cut, kick. His blue fire doesn't roar.
It consumes.
I summon Carmine Fire.
Both hands.
Two blades.
Red.
Silent.
The hesitation in their eyes lasts half a second.
I take it.
First cut — abdomen open.
Second tries to flank.
I pivot — sever his forearm.
Finish with a clean throat cut.
Then—
Pressure builds in my chest.
Mana condenses.
Harder.
Denser.
Without my command.
Carmine Fire spreads beyond my hands.
It climbs my torso.
Forms.
An unstable breastplate of red fire.
Imperfect.
But real.
Heat presses against my skin like living armor.
Kaïros notices.
Surprised.
Serah too.
"Aydan…?"
No time.
An Earth technique rises — stone walls attempt to trap me.
I cut.
They split.
Selene struggles in the pit.
A soldier aims at her.
Serah's flaming arrow pierces his shoulder.
"Get out!" she shouts.
Kaïros burns through another blade until it warps, then kills its owner.
But he's breathing harder now.
Mana draining.
Mine too.
The Carmine armor trembles.
I cut down another soldier.
Pull Selene free.
More boots.
More shouting.
"They're coming," Kaïros says.
Serah gasps, exhausted.
"I can't—"
"Neither can I," Kaïros admits.
I stare at the camp.
The cages.
Brask.
Oryn.
Rhaen.
I tighten my blades.
"We go anyway."
Shouts erupt.
Students hear the fighting.
And among them—
Brask lifts his head.
He feels it.
Someone came.
And night hasn't even fallen yet.