In the dead of the night, it was everything but dark. A building up in flames, an orange signal in the night. A man stumbled, both hands in front of him, away from the burning building. His hands searched in the darkness only he saw, struck the pole of a streetlight and groped it wildly, clinging to it. Behind him, a block away, the flames raged and raged, but to him it was only noise. His mind was a wild panic, unable to cope with the trauma of losing his eyesight. Blood trickled down his face from his eyes, but he hardly noticed it. His mind screamed.
(NOTE: It is recommended you read Poetry In Motion before this.)
The fire raged around him and trapped him inside. Dmitri jumped back as a pillar fell in front of him. He covered his mouth from the smoke, but it seemed useless. Ignis stepped through the flames, facing Dmitri. He dashed at him, one of his arms raised, green fire fingers ready to strike. Dmitri watched helplessly as the flame creature pounced on him.
July, 2. 8:00 A.M.
A white-haired young man stood in the middle of a big room. He wore a form fitting green suit, with a darkened arrow on his chest, pointing towards his head, and two arrows pointing downwards sprouting from it, each on a different leg. His eyes were the same shade of green as the suit.