In the north foothills of Fire Island, there's a winding stretch of headlands.
Medea stood in the shallows, her delicate feet sinking into the fine, soft, white sand as waves splashed against her fair calves.
Even in the cold seawater, the burst of her Flame Ability wouldn't reach dangerous high temperatures in a short time.
Aske cautiously touched her face, then recoiled like a bolt of lightning.
Medea just felt a buzz in her brain, as if an endless tide of negative emotions surged up.
This time, her consciousness didn't fall into a coma as it did during previous bursts, yet some memories sealed deep within her mind resurfaced in her brain.
"Do you understand?" a female voice asked in her mind.
"So... that's how it is," Medea replied.
"Next, leave it to me," said the female voice.
In front of Aske, Medea, standing in the water, began to burn.
Flames rose from her feet, the seawater unable to quench them.
