“I told you I’m fine!” I was agitated and nervous.

The doctors had diagnosed me with Ignition hysteria. They thought my flame was unstable and put me in the solitary ward for the night.
What did they know?
They weren’t there in that world with me. They weren’t the ones who died over and over again.

I did!

They were the ones who were insane if they thought one could come back from death multiple times and still be sane. They were the ones who needed to be locked up in the ward.

Not me!

I was not in the mood to stay in the bed, locked up, caged. They had tied my arms and legs tied to the bed. I couldn’t move. They even dared to plug me to a catheter so I could relieve myself right there like a dying patient. 

“Sir, you have just experienced an ignition event. It’s recommended that you don’t fight the procedure.”
The nurse urged me while also poking fluid lines into my arm. “Isolation is mainly a precaution to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or others. It’s only for the night. You can leave tomorrow if you don’t have an accident.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need these tubes in me.”

“Sir, please. Let me do my job.” The nurse said.

I understood the procedure. I knew she was right. But I was scared, really scared. I was afraid of what I might say if I stayed in the hospital for too long. They recorded everything. 

Many machines beeped on both sides of my bed, showing all kinds of graphs in real-time. One kept an eye on my heartbeat and blood pressure, sugar, and hormone levels. Another connected directly to the N-Chip on the back of my ear recorded my brain activity, my moods, my thoughts, my highs, and my lows. The third one, the biggest one showed a thermal image of my whole body, recording my core temperature.

That was how they determined the temperature of one’s flame. I still had no flame according to the machine. Which had baffled the doctors because I had an ability. I had brought the shield along with me from the other world though the system was unresponsive. I felt it in my body, the warmth from the flame that I had yearned for all my life. It was there.

This was the true reason behind my isolation.

They wanted to study me. Figure out the reason behind my anomaly. I was a tool for them.

What happens if they figure out the truth? What happens if they learned the things I knew?

I couldn’t call the status, but I had carried my instincts from the other world. They were blaring at me, warning me. Telling me to make sure, I was in the right place. That the world wasn’t just another loop, which would play out once I die for the first time. To stay vigilant and be ready for the worst.

Unfortunately, I could only endure. The doctors had the right to keep me in the hospital for one day. That much was within their jurisdiction.

I glared at the nurse. She was young, with caramel brown skin and grey eyes. An asher. I didn’t know her kind worked in the hospitality industry. But then again it made sense. What else were they, those who didn’t ignite, supposed to in this ability-driven world. Here even the chefs needed to have some form of flame control to work in professional kitchens.

She was too calm, too polite. I couldn’t help thinking if she was jealous of me.

An asher, her fuel burned to ash, she would never ignite, never become a lighter. She would never get her wings. Never get to experience the world in the light.

I knew I would have been mad at the world if I as in her place if I had failed to ignite after waiting for twenty-nine years. Hell, I was mad at the world at one point in life. When I believed everyone at the agency was my enemy. That was until I realized that nobody cared about me. That no one stood against me. I was my biggest enemy. I was blocking my way, my road to success. I was the one in the wrong.

“Is he giving you trouble?” The feminine voice ripped me out of my thoughts.

My eyes opened wide; my head snapped in the direction of the voice. The love of my life stood at the door. My fingers itched to hide the pale band that had come to replace the ring that once covered it. She didn’t take her ring when she divorced me, but she returned the ring I had given her. She didn’t take anything actually, only my heart and the peace of my mind.

Her finger wasn’t empty, however. A beautiful diamond ring rested there. She was already married and I was jealous.

She held a caramel jacket in her hands and wore a beige wool sweater. Two water drop earrings hung under her ears that glowed blue and green in the light when she stepped inside the room. She watched me with her leaf green eyes, wearing the smile on her face that I liked, that I missed. She looked like she hadn’t aged a day in the last six years. Really, how did I fuck it up? Seriously,

“I’m going to take your blood. It’s going to sting. Don’t tense up your muscles or the needle might puncture your vein. Okay?”

I didn’t hear a word of what the nurse said. I was too engrossed in maintaining eye contact with April. Resultantly, I got surprised when she stuck the needle in my arm.

“What!” I cried out from the sharp pain. I would have punched her if my hands weren’t tied to the bed, which would have extended my reluctant stay in the hospital. 
“I told you it might sting.” The nurse said pulling the needle out. She sprayed healing gel on my arm before removing the blood-filled capsule from the injection before disposing of the rest.

“Are you done stabbing me?” I asked the nurse.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the tray to leave.
“Don’t let him out of the binds, even if he insists.” The nurse instructed April on her way out.
April smiled at her knowingly. “I know. We’ll keep it quiet.”

The nurse shook her head. “I’m being serious. If he escapes we’ll have to inform the Flash agency and then he’ll be in trouble.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. He’s an agent himself.”
The nurse couldn’t believe her. In awe, she said, “But he just ignited!”

April looked at me with the same fire in her eyes that had made me fall for her in the first place. “Well, he was always a very special person.”

The nurse peered at me in awe on her way out. She collided with the door and left carrying a blush.

“I think she has a crush on you,” April said.

I raised my arms to show her the straps, snickered, and shook my head. “She is too possessive.”

April smiled lightly; it really suited her. Perhaps, I was staring because she looked away and started measuring the room as if it was her first time seeing it. Well, it probably was. The wards were no different from confinement cellars in the age she ignited. Many things have changed in the two decades since then.

“You finally ignited, huh?” She said, shy like it was her who had won the lottery.
“Yeah,”
“So what’s your flame? 29 years; it must be pretty powerful.” She looked at the screen hovering on the wall right behind my bed, then her face constricted.

“Why isn’t the thermal imaging showing anything? Is the machine not connected? Your eyes haven’t changed color either.” She started adjusting the thermal imager in panic.
She was a scientist. She worked with a thermal imager and knew it was working perfectly, and since it wasn’t showing anything that meant I hadn’t ignited. Hence, her panic.

“No, I did ignite. I am a lighter. I can feel it.” I told her politely, confidently. “It’s just the flame isn’t showing up on the imager.”

She stopped and turned to me. Out of breath, her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. She watched me quietly for a moment. Whether studying my expressions or making up her mind, I didn’t know. But her breaths calmed down resultantly. As for why her brows furrowed— maybe it was because I had a smirk on my face and she didn’t like it. I wasn’t making fun of her. I was just glad that she cared still, even after six years of our separation, even after remarrying to someone else, even though she was the one who left.

April fought through a myriad of thoughts before calming down. Finally, she asked, “What does it feel like, your flame?”

“Like my chest is on fire. Every few seconds a ripple expands out from it and rallies my emotions. I feel panicked and anxious.” I told her how I felt seeing after such a long time. She took me seriously.

“That’s odd,” She whispered and crossed her arms, and dropped her chin. That was her go-to pose whenever she needed time to think. It told others to stay away; helpful in times of need.

Suddenly she raised her head and looked at me. “How did you get here?”

“Apparently, my shadow called the hospital when it detected the smoke. I think it saved my life. I should treat it to a meal.”
“I bet it’ll love a change of oil.” She smirked.
I raised my eyebrow. Did she just make a joke?
“You have changed,” I told her.
She had changed, not only in but also in temperament. Only I was stuck in the past.

She shrugged her shoulders and approached my bed carrying a smile that reminded me of the old days. A chair unlocked from the docking station by the wall and hovered to a stop behind her. She grabbed and pulled it close to the bed and took a seat.

We both laughed when the seat bobbed up and down to balance her weight.

“Did the hospital call you?” I asked her after she had settled down.
“Apparently,” She said copying me, “Your shadow still has my number saved as next of kin. It called me right after calling the hospital.” She said nervously. I could detect it in an instant. Her fingers had trouble resting and staying still when she gets nervous. I found them twirling my fluid lines, which I found very amusing.
It made me laugh.
“I don’t think you should play with them,” I told her.
She was confused at first then saw her hands and hurriedly pulled them away from the lines and grabbed my hand.
“You are fine, right?”

Our eyes met.

If only she could stay. I wanted to hold her. Maybe John’s memories were affecting me. Perhaps, I was just fucking jealous of him. I wished with my whole heart she would return to my life.

Then the machines panicked behind me as my heart rate shot through the roof and blood pressure climbed to cloud nine.

Her lips parted, but just then, Jenson, her husband barged into the room carrying a bouquet of roses. His big and worried eyes stared at me from behind his large numbered glasses before he put his hands into the air and laughed.

“It finally happened!” He yelled enthusiastically.

My lips twitched. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“How can you say that? You ignited! If that isn’t news worth taking time off work then I don’t know what is.”

He was a friend and I hated him. We weren’t enemies, he was just April’s new husband. Well, he wasn’t so new; six years is long enough time for a marriage to be considered old. April hadn’t waited long after our divorce to marry him. In a sense, she didn’t give me a chance to settle down after the divorce. In other words, she betrayed me.

April couldn’t keep her smile down when she was with him. That was the case then and that was the case now. Jenson didn’t bait an eye upon seeing us holding hands, pulled a seat, and sat beside April.

“Are those for me?” I said looking at the bouquet.
He stared at me confused for a moment before remembering he was carrying the flowers and laughed. “Of course, here,”
He saw the binds on my arms and hesitated. “They finally locked you up, huh.”
“What can I say? I’m not a very likable guy” I looked at April and she… wasn’t impressed.

She took the bouquet from Jenson’s hands and put it on the bedside table. I was sad when she released my hand, but I was actually sadder while she was holding it. I had felt Helna’s warmth and love for John through her hands when I was dying. From April’s hands, I felt nothing.

“What took you so long?” April asked Jenson. Now she held his hand, fingers interlocked, piled one on top of the other like my dead hopes.
Jenson gave a great sigh. “I thought he was in the general wing. I went there and they told me he was in the solitary ward. You know it’s not easy getting into one of these rooms.” He turned toward me and asked, “Did you beat up a doctor while being carried here? They don’t put just anyone here you know.”

“I might have,” I said.

I didn’t remember what I did or said on the way to the hospital. I woke up on the bed with m hands and feet tied to it.

“Well, your vitals look good. As for your flame…” He had the same reaction as April. I repeated the same explanation I had given April, but he didn’t react the same as her. Instead of caring, he suspiciously started looking at my body with beady eyes trembling in excitement behind the glasses.

“You are scaring me, dude,” I told him.

He ignored me.

It wasn’t the first time I was seeing him acting like that. He was just inspired, engrossed in his work. I was like him once. He was a scientist. They both were. They worked in the same company and he was her boss. He was there when I was ignoring April. Then I fucked up and she got busy and started coming home late. Her late evening turned into late nights. Then there were nights she didn’t come back home from work. I knew then things were falling apart between us, but I didn’t do anything about it. I wanted to be alone because we fought every time we were together. I got used to her absence until one day she decided not to come back home anymore.

Jenson soon stopped ogling my body, but he couldn’t sit straight for more than a second and asked me, “What did you get? What’s your flame?”
“Why do I feel like you are more excited than me?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? We know the flame‘s temperature depends upon a person’s age. You are the oldest person to ignite in the whole world, my friend. You are a scientific enigma.”
“You don’t have to shout,” My plea fell on deaf ears.
Excited, Jenson continued. “Do you have any idea of your value to the scientific community? For all we know, you might be the missing link to our answers!”

“You want me to become a lab rat?” I let out with a snort. Somehow, I was finally able to put an end to his cynicism.

“I came out too strong there, didn’t I?”
“I was afraid I would have to cook for another person tonight,” April added from the side.

I wanted to agree, but Jenson was still not done with me.

“So what’s the element of your flame?” Jensen said. “You must have tried igniting it, right?”
“Is it for personal knowledge?” I asked him in seriousness.
He looked around in understanding before pushing his face closer to my face. “I promise not to tell anyone.”
“What’s with all the secrecy?” April asked, curious.
“You didn’t meet the guys in black coats outside?” Jenson asked April.
Her burrows furrowed. “Did the agency send people to keep an eye on you?”
“What else would they do?”
“Really? Now even I’m interested.” April said. “You didn’t jump categories and became an overnight sensation did you?”

She stared at me with intensity. I wished she hadn’t because her stare was caused by love, but scientific curiosity. She had really changed. Jenson had rubbed his curiosity in her. Now I was in a dilemma.

“I--” A brief pause for attention and then bam, I told them the truth. “--Can create shields.”
“Shields?” They looked at eachother.
“That’s what you got after 29 years of torture? No way.” Jenson didn’t believe me. “You must have at least gotten control over an element. Nothing less would make sense!”
“That’s a category five flame, you know.” April reminded Jenson seriously. “It takes people decades to get that far in their practice.”

She stared at me with a pair of dazed eyes, her pupils blown up. Her green irises had turned into two rings of power surrounding two dark wells of curiosity. For a second, I wanted to tell her everything about the time loops, the revivals, the murders, Helna and Elissa. It was only when she blinked and the spell broke did I remember that the truth would not do any good to them or me.

Perhaps, one day I would tell someone, but not now. When I myself did not have any answers. I still didn’t know why the system had taken me to that place and forced me to save a tiny little girl who carried the dying embers of an evening sun inside her eyes?

“How about a demonstration?” I said and they cheered up like they were seeing a horse for the first time in my life.
I called a shield and turned to April. “Now try to kiss me.”
She frowned. I knew she would, but I didn’t expect Jenson to sacrifice himself for the sake of science.

“How about I do it?” Jenson puckered his lips and leaned toward me despite the visible repulsion on my face. I sighed in relief when the invisible shield stopped him. He had pressed too hard and planted his face on the invisible shield. Ripples on the shield's surface brought it to life and hid his flattened features from my eyes, which I was very thankful for.

“I lost the chance to make fun of you,” I told April who sat stunned on her seat staring at the rippling shield that hovered a few feet above me.

Jenson pushed off the shield and fumbled his glass onto his eyes.

“Whoa, it’s real!” Jenson said and carefully touched the shield with his bare hands. A small ripple originated from the point of impact, bringing a blurry thing out of the void.

“There is still nothing on the imager,” Aril said from the side. “How is that possible?”

She was looking at the thermal image hovering in space behind my bed.

“Apparently that’s why the doctors can’t measure my flame, because according to them, there is nothing there to measure.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Jenson said, suddenly emotional.
“It’s very practical for someone in your line of work,” April said in relief. “Now maybe you can have that promotion you have been looking for all these years.”

I knew she had the good for me in her heart. She wasn’t wrong. The shield could do wonders against most lighters. Now that I was level ten and the shield's defense had doubled, I was sure it would be able to handle gunshots. Although it still would have no real value against most well-trained lighter, so didn’t many other agents. At least in my case, I wouldn’t end up dead if I ever blundered.

April and Jenson stayed for another hour before leaving for the night with the promise to get together again soon. They both had to go back to work.

Once again, I was alone, left to my thoughts. The conversation repeated in my mind.

I didn’t think my flame was to conjure a shield. Shied was a skill I had received from the system, which I had gained after dying in the Nightmare. I would have been right to believe that the system was a product of my flame, but then again everyone in that world had a system.

My flame might not have shown up on the scanner, but I knew its color. I had sensed it burn hotter and hotter before getting whisked away into the Nightmare. The scanner couldn’t pick up the temperature of my flame because it wasn’t designed to pick up anything beyond the color purple. I had a black flame. And I had a suspicion that I might not be the oldest person to ignite, but the youngest, because I had black eyes from birth. 

The color of the flame determines its strength, with red being the lowest temperature and indigo being the highest because no one had a violent flame.

Every lighter had a different ability, a different flame. Some could light things on fire; others could make things cool down in a matter of seconds. Many could call winds, but anyone over yellow fame could produce their own wind, fire, dirt.
   
Elemental flames were the most common. Beside them was the flame of life, which could improve the growth rate of everything living. Really, lighters with the flame of life were highly valued everywhere. Even a talentless jock could save lives. A single green flamer could cultivate plants at an amazing speed and the brighter their flame the faster the growth.

Most of them were active in Africa, trying to convert the land into an irrigable continent by the W.F.O, the World Flame Origination. It was an initiative to eliminate world hunger and it was working.

Sighing, I laid my mind to rest for the night. I was too tired to think about things that didn’t concern me. I closed my eyes to let the night take me, but sleep didn’t come easy to me. For one, I found it uncomfortable to sleep on my back. Secondly, I couldn’t turn the lights off. The darkness reminded me of the nightmare and I didn’t want to fall back into it, not again, not if I had a choice.

However, I knew that the world wasn’t done with me yet. It would call for me again.

“You have some very nice friends.” An old and husk voice awoke me.

I raised my head in a hurry and looked in the direction of the voice. I found a middle-aged man standing at the door, flipping through my diagnosis. He walked toward me; his footsteps clicked solidly against the tiled floor. They were even, deliberate, belonging to a man with a motive. He wore a yellow coat and a brown hat, an agent of the agency. I knew the agency would look for me, but to think they would send an agent in the hospital, I didn’t expect that.

“Especially that lady friend of yours, she is very elegant.” The man lit a cigarette with a flame that grew on the tip of his finger, didn’t smoke it, and let it burn between his fingers.
“Who are you?” I asked, vigilant and susceptible.

Did they know? That was my first thought. Why else would an agent of such a high caliber pay me a visit in the middle of the night at bedtime?

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I want instead?”

He took a seat near the wall and got comfortable. Perhaps, he noticed my nervousness and worried about me attacking him. Perhaps, he was just being sensible by giving me space. I appreciated the distance anyways.

He was old, middle-aged. In his early forties, a clean face that was heavier at the chin and narrows at the top, a bow nose, small ears for his head, and piercing red eyes that totally stole the limelight in terms of his features. Eyes are the window to the soul. His red eyes represented his ability to control fire.

“All right, what do you want?” I said as my heart pounded faster.

“I want you to tell me something that I don’t know about you.” He crossed his legs and finally put the cigarette in his mouth. “Forgive for not asking. I can smoke, right?”

Was he deliberately trying to get on my nerves or was it the effect of the cigarette smoke? Whatever the reason, I didn’t like him. The cigarette, the question, it was all mind games. I knew. He had only asked the question to let me know that he had read my file. The agency had everything on me, on all the gents, on everyone. What one could get their hands on was a simple matter of privileges.

He was dangerous, not just because of his strength and the power he represented, but also because of his mentality. He was shrewd.

“Perhaps I should let the doctors know you are stressing me and it won’t be my responsibility if I lose control over my flame or whatever.”
“Then I’ll charge you with insubordination and obstruction of an ongoing investigation. You wouldn’t want that, right? Not with your kind of record.” He exhaled a smoke ring that floated toward me; it struck my shield and exploded into a cloud of smoke.

The smoke brought my shield to his view, and faint as it might be, it earned me the man’s attention.
A corner of his lips turned up into a grin. “That’s a nice toy,” He said.

I ignored the comment, but the word record made me chuckle.
“What’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” I shook my head. “You reminded me of something my chief one said to me. Kind of makes me wonder if everyone at the top reads through the same manuscript or something.”

For some reason, the man looked stunned at me. “Did you throw your lunch at someone’s head?”

“Well-well, looks like someone didn’t pay attention when they were reading my profile.”
“Tch--”

The agent fought with the pockets on both sides of his coat before pulling a pen-shaped device from the inner pocket. He pressed the top button —like you would a click pen— which brought bright rays of light from its two ends and produced a holographic screen where they met mid-air.

That was a holographic projector, an old one, actually. The newest model didn’t have light rays blinding its user and was small enough to be worn over the ear like an earpiece.

The projector was directly connected to his N-chip allowing him mental control over it with his thoughts. He flicked through some files and documents until he found the one he was looking for – he had my file on his device. That was a bit disconcerting.

The whole thing actually reminded me of the system messages. It made me wonder if they were also a product of some kind of technology that could send pictures directly to one’s mind. Although that kind of technology was not far from us, it was still a long step away. It was impossible that the natives of that world could have created it.

“Well, you fucked up big time. I can give you that.” The agent said. He powered off his device and put it back in the inner pocket of the coat. “But still, Hank Fields? What did you do to antagonize that man? Did you kick him in the balls when he was a kid? Did you steal his girlfriend or Burnt his hair? I can’t think of anything else.”
“No,” I shook my head, a demeaning smile growing on my face. I didn’t want to say it, but I couldn’t stop myself from admitting it either. “He didn’t like my black eyes.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“Well, I have never heard a more absurd reason to put someone on the blacklist for life.”
“He what?” I didn’t know that.
“You know, it’s a list of people that the agency keeps their eyes on. Maybe you have wondered why you were stuck in the same department for so long. Well, now you know.”

Motherfucker!

“So,” The agent said puffing out another smoke ring.

He deliberately threw it in my direction and nodded in glee like a child when my shield blocked it and turned opaque for a few seconds. He was annoying.

“Can it stop a bullet?”
“I haven’t tried that yet.”
“Very nice flame for an agent,” He pushed through without giving me time to react. “So, what’s your secret, Christopher? How did you suddenly ignite a flame after misfiring for 29 years?”
“I guess my time came up.”
“Did you take something? Something that you weren’t supposed to take; something illegal? Did someone approach you with something like that? A drug, perhaps?”
“No?” I was confused for a moment until I remember what my SIMP had told me the other day. “There are drugs that can make one ignite?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know about that. But there sure are drugs that can make you feel so good you lose control over your flame and cause an accident. I think you took the drug and it ignited your flame.”

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. This person was mad.

“What do you think? Does that jog your memory a bit?

I gulped the words that had risen to my throat. Nothing good would have come from calling him a psycho. I relegated my words.

“That’s very… imaginative,” I told the agent.

“Is that so?” He said taking another puff of the cigarette. No rings this time, he blew out a plume of smoke directly into the air.

“I know when people are lying. Some people are so good at lying they can even control their heartbeats. Others… not so much. And you Mr. are, unfortunately… not lying.”
“Or you are just reading my monitors,” I said looking on my left at the projections hovering beside me that displayed every one of my bodily signatures like a snitch.

The agent scuffled off the seat, stubbed the cigarette between his two fingers, and pocked it. Then he approached me.
Maybe I showed signs of worry, and fear or my monitor snitched again because the agent concerted me when he stopped by my bedside. “Don’t worry. I only want to see your arms.”
 
He checked my arms and the soles of my feet for needle punctures and dead veins and looked sad when he didn’t find any that weren’t recorded on my sheet.

“Everything looks good. Other than that, your eyes are still black. They should be blue or indigo considering Shield is an ability of the water element.”
“I know. The doctors couldn’t find the temperature of my flame either.”
He looked at the thermal image projection hovering behind me. “You are very bizarre, Christopher.”

“Did you just call me a freak?”

We had another short conversation next about ethnic violation, before the agent left without saying anything else. The door closed gently behind him, a silent reminder of the world at large and the power people held.

The night passed quietly, but I couldn’t sleep. The darkness that swept me whenever I closed my eyes kept reminding me of the void I always ended up in after dying in the Nightmare. I ended up spending the night worried and anxious, counting the seconds until sunrise so I could leave the morbid room.