$XAN THE FLAME THAT WALKED 🜂
The night forest burned with more than fire—it burned with purpose. Xan stepped through the blaze as if it were mist, embers swirling around their shoulders like tiny red ghosts. Each step left molten prints in the earth, heat rippling outward in waves.
Somewhere ahead, the hunters waited.
Traps set.
Crossbows loaded.
Fear rising.
Xan could smell it in the smoke.
A shadow lunged from the treeline—fast, silent, certain. Xan flicked a hand, and a ribbon of fire curved through the air, striking with surgical precision. The attacker flew backward, crashing into a tree that burst into flame on impact.
Another hunter fired.
Another mistake.
Xan spun, flames coiling around their arm, and released a blazing arc that split the air like a comet. The bolt disintegrated mid-flight. The hunter followed.
The forest roared. Sparks spiraled like falling stars. Heat shimmered, distorting the world into a battlefield of red and gold.
When the last hunter staggered into view, trembling, $XAN stepped forward—eyes glowing like the heart of a volcano.
“You lit this fire,” Xan said softly.
“I let it grow.”
A final flash.
A scream swallowed by flame.
And then—quiet.
Xan walked on, the burning forest parting for them like a living, blazing crown.
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