Kyren's hands were still shaking.
The morning after the inheritance, he stood barefoot on the food cart's warped floor, staring at the pot of soup he hadn't yet dared to touch. The surface barely rippled, but he felt heat radiating from it anyway—like the pot remembered what had happened the night before, and was just waiting to explode again.
His arms still glowed faintly, marked with curling lines of red light that throbbed with each breath. Every so often, the patterns shifted slightly, rearranging themselves like they were trying to tell a joke he hadn't learned to understand yet.
Jamo sat on the counter, chewing dry cereal out of the box.
"You've been staring at that pot for twenty minutes," he said. "You gonna eat or fight it?"
Kyren didn't answer. His thoughts kept looping. The spear. The sky. The voice.
The fight.
His ribs ached where the assassin's blade had grazed him. The blood was mostly dry now, but the memory was still raw.
"I'm not hungry," Kyren said quietly.
Jamo squinted at him. "You look like you haven't slept."
"I didn't."
"Is it the spear? Or the... thing inside it?"
Kyren didn't reply. The voice hadn't spoken since the fight. It had gone silent, like it was waiting for something. Or maybe it was just watching.
Jamo jumped down from the counter. "Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, but you should know—your name's on every backchannel board in the stacks. Some people think you're blessed. Others think you're a glitch."
Kyren finally looked at him. "And what do you think?"
Jamo hesitated. "I think I don't like how that thing looked when it moved on its own."
"The spear?"
Jamo nodded. "It moved like it had something to prove."
Kyren looked back at the pot. "It probably does."
The day dragged. People came and went in the alley below, but no one came near the food cart. Not since the sky had called his name. Not since the glow.
Kyren sat on the roof, arms crossed, trying to slow his breathing. Every few minutes, the spear—now leaning against the wall like it owned the place—would vibrate slightly, and he'd feel it in his bones.
> "You're ignoring me," the voice finally said.
He froze.
> "Bad idea. I don't get bored easily, but I do get loud."
Kyren winced. "What do you want?"
> "You already know. You just don't want to admit it."
"I didn't ask for this."
> "No one ever does. Not for something that matters."
Kyren stood. "What are you?"
> "The part of you that stops laughing when it hurts. The part that moves when everyone else freezes. I'm the pattern that breaks patterns."
"That doesn't mean anything."
> "It will."
The voice faded again.
She arrived at dusk.
Kyren was bent over the workbench, trying to repair a broken burner, when a knock rattled the metal door.
"Jamo, you expecting someone?"
"Only the debt collector. And I told him I already gave him a kidney."
Kyren opened the door.
She stood tall, lean, a short staff slung across her back and her coat open just enough to show the hilt of something sharp beneath.
"Kyren Omari?" she asked.
He nodded cautiously.
"I'm Chiyo. Your trainer."
"My what?"
She stepped inside like she belonged there. "Your spear broadcasted a claim. That means you inherited something dangerous. Someone has to teach you how not to blow your own head off."
Kyren blinked. "Did the spear tell you that?"
"No. The bounty board did."
She dropped a printed page on the table. It showed his face. Red overlay. Text in bold:
> KYREN OMARI – LAUGHING FLAME
REWARD: 450,000 CREDITS
CONFIRMED INHERITOR – RANK UNSTABLE
Kyren swallowed.
Chiyo sat down. "Lesson one: don't read your own wanted poster before breakfast. It ruins your appetite."
They relocated to a nearby warehouse Chiyo claimed was "only haunted by real estate failures." It smelled like rust and oil and old prayers.
Kyren stood in the middle, spear in hand.
Chiyo circled him.
"Show me what you did when they attacked you."
Kyren hesitated. "I didn't think. I just... moved."
"Good. Thinking gets you killed."
She moved first. No warning. Just a blur of motion and a strike aimed at his shoulder.
He blocked it—barely. The spear resisted, jerked, then corrected.
"Better," Chiyo said. "Again."
They moved. Danced. Fought.
Kyren kept up for five seconds. Then she tripped him and knocked the breath from his lungs.
He gasped on the floor. "You're fast."
"You're slow."
She offered a hand. "But you'll get better."
By the second hour, Kyren's arms were numb and the glyphs on his skin were glowing brighter.
His breath came in ragged bursts.
The spear trembled in his hand.
> "Almost there," the voice said. "Don't stop now."
Chiyo came at him again, fast and sharp.
This time, he didn't think.
He turned. Pivoted. Let the spear move first.
It swept in an arc and cracked the training dummy in half.
Kyren stumbled back, panting.
Chiyo looked at the pieces. Then at him.
"That wasn't bad," she said.
"It wasn't me," Kyren whispered. "It was the spear."
"No. It was both of you."
That night, Kyren sat by the window, wrapping his wrists.
He blinked—and the world shifted.
He saw himself. Or someone like him. Standing on a tower of ash. Holding the same spear.
But his face was blank. No laughter. No light.
Just silence.
Then it was gone.
Jamo walked in. "You okay?"
Kyren nodded. "Yeah."
He didn't tell him about the vision.
Not yet.
Chiyo shook him awake before sunrise.
"We have company," she said.
They climbed to the roof. A figure stood on the opposite ledge, dressed in gray, holding a curved blade.
"You're the Laughing Flame," the stranger said.
Kyren raised his spear.
"I'm a scout," the man said. "Not a killer. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true."
Chiyo stepped forward. "You have five seconds to leave."
"Or what?" the scout smirked.
She moved.
The fight was short.
The scout lasted four seconds.
Kyren didn't need to raise his spear.
Later that day, the bounty board updated again.
> KYREN OMARI – DESIGNATION CONFIRMED
CHYO TANAKA – ASSOCIATE, COMBAT LEVEL 2
Kyren stared at the screen.
"They've added you," he said.
Chiyo shrugged. "Then they know what I am."
Kyren turned away.
Jamo leaned in. "What are you?"
She didn't answer.
That night, Kyren stood by the window again.
The spear leaned beside him.
"You're not afraid," the voice said.
"I am," Kyren admitted. "But I don't have time for it."
> "Then we're in agreement," the voice replied. "Let's keep moving."
Kyren closed his eyes.
And the city kept watching.