Relics: The Ashes of a Lost World

The cold no longer gnawed at Nur's skin the way it had when he first arrived on the island. The biting winds and endless snowfields felt distant, muted. It wasn't that the island had warmed—it was Nur. His relic, Aso Ina, had become a constant, subtle presence, surrounding him with a faint aura of heat. The flames no longer erupted chaotically or unpredictably; instead, they pulsed in harmony with his will.

As Nur trudged through the snow, he tested the limits of his control. A small flicker of fire danced at his fingertips, extinguished, then reignited as he walked. He had discovered how to channel the relic's energy outward, forming a faint heat dome around him. The goggles seemed to enhance his focus, allowing him to maintain the warmth without actively thinking about it.

"Better than freezing," he muttered, the steam rising from his footsteps like smoke signals.

The heat wasn't just a shield against the cold—it was a reminder of his progress. Each day on the island, he had pushed himself to adapt, honing his survival instincts and his newfound powers. Every Mercha he encountered became a lesson, every moment of isolation a test of his resilience.

The terrain shifted again, the endless white broken by jagged ruins emerging from the snow. Nur paused, studying the markings etched into the stone. They resembled the symbols on his goggles, faintly glowing as if alive.

"Another dead end," he muttered, adjusting the goggles. The island's shifting geography made mapping a nightmare. Every time he thought he'd made progress, the landmarks changed, leaving him chasing shadows.

Nur woke early, his body attuned to the island's rhythm. The heat dome around him had kept the frost at bay during the night, but the island's eerie silence pressed against his senses. His stomach growled, a reminder of how scarce food was, but survival on the island demanded constant motion.

Melting snow with fire from his relic had become second nature for water, but food was a different challenge. He had scavenged a few berries from sparse bushes and managed to catch a small hare earlier. It wasn't much, but it kept him going.

He resumed his journey toward the light at the center, each step deliberate. The closer he got, the more the island seemed to resist. Merchas had become more frequent, their patterns less predictable. He moved with caution, his focus sharp.

The sound of crunching snow behind him made him stop. His instincts flared, and flames flickered faintly in his palm as he turned.

A figure emerged from the treeline, shivering and hesitant. She was young, with a fragile frame that seemed ill-suited for the harsh environment. Her coat hung loosely around her shoulders, and her face was pale from the cold.

"Please… wait!" she called, her voice trembling.

Nur narrowed his eyes, lowering his hand but not extinguishing the flames. "Who are you?"

"My name's Savannah," she said, stepping closer. "I just woke up here. I don't know where I am or what's happening."

Nur's gaze flicked over her, assessing. Her movements were unsteady, her breath visible in the icy air. She looked vulnerable, out of place—but something about her made him hesitate.

"Where are you headed?" she asked, glancing at the light in the distance.

"Forward," Nur replied curtly, turning away.

"Wait!" she pleaded, scrambling after him. "I can't survive out here alone. Please, let me come with you."

Nur sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Stay out of my way," he said, continuing his path.

The silence between them was tense as they traveled. Savannah struggled to keep up, her footsteps unsteady in the deep snow. Nur maintained his pace, keeping his focus on the horizon.

"Do you know what's going on here?" Savannah asked after a while, her voice breaking the quiet.

"No," Nur said flatly.

"Do you have a relic?" she pressed.

Nur glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Why does it matter?"

Savannah hesitated before replying. "Because… I don't. And if you do, maybe you can keep us safe."

Nur didn't respond. Something about her questions put him on edge. He had no interest in sharing his relic or his plans with a stranger.

As the hours passed, Savannah's persistence grew. She asked about the ruins, the Merchas, and the island's shifting landscape. Nur answered sparingly, his responses clipped and deliberate.

"You've been here longer than me," she said at one point. "You must have some idea of what's happening."

"All I know is that the island keeps changing," Nur replied. "And the only constant is that light."

By mid-afternoon, the ruins gave way to a narrow canyon flanked by icy cliffs. The air grew heavy, and Nur's instincts prickled.

"They're coming," he muttered, his flames flaring faintly.

"What?" Savannah asked, her voice laced with fear.

Thud. Thud.

A Mercha emerged from the shadows, its insect-like frame gleaming in the dim light. A second followed, larger and more menacing.

"Stay back," Nur ordered, stepping forward.

The first Mercha lunged, its claws slicing through the air. Nur dodged effortlessly, countering with a burst of fire that scorched its legs. The machine staggered, its movements jerky and erratic.

The second Mercha targeted Savannah. She screamed, stumbling backward as it closed in.

Nur turned, sending a fireball hurtling toward it. The flames struck its side, forcing it to redirect its attention to him.

"Get up!" he shouted at Savannah, who scrambled to her feet.

As the fight continued, Nur's movements became more fluid, his attacks more precise. But something about Savannah's reactions felt off—too deliberate, too measured.

The second Mercha lunged at her again, its claws glinting dangerously. Savannah raised her hands, and flames erupted from her palms, identical to Nur's.

Nur froze, his eyes widening. "What—"

The Mercha faltered, confused by the identical fire. Savannah struck it with a concentrated blast, forcing it back.

When the machines were finally defeated, Savannah's form shimmered. Her frail, shivering appearance melted away, replaced by a confident figure with sharp eyes and a faint smirk.

"Who are you?" Nur demanded, his flames flaring.

Savannah adjusted her stance, unbothered by his anger. "Just someone trying to survive. Same as you."

"You tried to decieve me," Nur growled.

"I did what I had to," she said unapologetically. "My relic mimics others, but I can't sustain it without seeing them in action."

Nur's gaze hardened. "You could have started with that."

Savannah tilted her head, her smirk fading. "You wouldn't have helped me if I'd told you the truth."

Nur thought to himself... This is not worth dealing with.

"You know what... go your own way." Nur said coldly.

Savannah hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But don't think you can do this alone. You'll need allies."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the shifting landscape.

Nur stood there for a moment, reflecting on what just happened. He adjusted his goggles and resumed his journey, his resolve unshaken. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford... Yet... he would still make the gamble.

—day 6