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Fire.

An endless expanse of fire.

Golden-red flames spread to the horizon, burning the entire world into the same color.

The heatwave rolled in, the air distorted, and everything in sight trembled.

The sky was a bizarre and distorted mess of colors, like a shattered palette, with various colors mixing, separating, and floating like clouds and smoke.

Black, massive, Ruins -like spikes and architectural Ruins stand all around.

They surrounded the place, making it resemble the depths of hell.

A young man kneels in the middle of the sea of fire.

His body was bound by golden chains, one after another, from his arms to his waist, so densely packed that they almost wrapped him up like a cocoon.

The other end of the chain plunged into the sea of fire, and forces from all directions pulled him along the black spikes, rendering him unable to move.

But he was struggling.

He gritted his teeth, his golden eyes trembling.

Arms tense, shoulders shrug, back arches and then presses down.

With each exertion, the chains would make a faint sound, and fine cracks would appear on his body and the chains.

Golden sparks burst forth from the cracks, scattering in the air like Fire Fly before being swept away by the heatwave.

The cracks are increasing.

The light spots became increasingly dense.

It'll be soon.

It was so close.

Just then--

A figure emerged from the flames, appearing abruptly before him, as if it had always been there, only previously concealed by the fire.

The man looked down at him.

He was holding a knife.

The cold, bluish-purple blade stood out starkly against the backdrop of the intense red Kakkō.

The young man raised his head.

Their eyes met.

No words were spoken.

The man raised his knife and pointed it forward.

Setsuna, with a flash of light, the golden shackles seemed to have been stripped of their souls, instantly losing all their luster.

The chains snapped, and debris flew everywhere.

Countless fragments of chains shattered and transformed into a shower of golden light, falling in profusion.

The young man knelt on the spot, his hands supporting him on the ground, panting heavily.

My shoulders are trembling.

His back was heaving.

Just then, the flames around him suddenly seemed to be pushed aside by something, and quickly retreated in all directions.

Where the flames receded, something emerged from the ground.

First came the tender green buds.

Then there are the slender stems.

Then came the layers upon layers of petals.

Peony.

Large Peonies burst forth from the ground around him, one after another, cluster after cluster, blooming across the newly cleared land in the blink of an eye.

The fragrance of flowers and the smell of burning heat mingled together in a strange and wonderful way.

The young man slowly straightened up, supporting himself on his knees.

The moment he stood up straight, the peonies seemed to receive some kind of signal and spread wildly in all directions.

It swept across the land.

Wherever it passed, the flames did not go out.

They simply grow interspersed with peonies.

Golden-red flames licked the edges of the petals, but the Peony still bloomed passionately.

They intertwine and intertwine, blooming beneath the cliffs and around the Ruins.

It will become a new landscape in this world.

The outline of his armor emerged, solid and tangible.

In the Kakkō, the red was so vivid it looked as if it had been stained with blood, echoing his fiery red hair.

The bare feet and the man holding the blade simply watched silently.

The person dressed in red robes finally raised their head and met his gaze.

There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes.