The school campus was even more beautiful at night. In Leiston, the big white orb and flecks in the sky shone brighter than other cities, mainly because of the loss of air pollution. ISL High was especially gorgeous, with its moonlit halls and windows and its gracefully pale rooftop. But what really caught the eye of the boy in all black was the cafe right next to it — did that say "Renald's" on it?

The grass was ever so dark and pelted with morning dew. The boy walked across on the stone pathway that led to the cafe. He had unfinished business to deal with — and no one was going to stop him from completing it.

He crossed the pathway and opened the creaked door. The cafe was just as beautiful as everything else. But soon, the boy thought to himself, it wouldn't be. He took a last glance at everything and grinned — it was only fitting that the last sight of the cafe was a good one. His grin morphed grotesquely into an ugly scowl. This cafe was the very same day that he'd lost everything. He'd lost everything right here — everything that mattered and everything he'd ever loved. These were the very places his shins had crushed upon as he screamed, wept, and cursed at the same time when he was merely twelve-years-old. Others may have moved on. But the boy was ever so magnificent when it came to holding grudges.

If there was one thing he excelled at, it was anger.

The boy's hands took form of a fist and shook as he opened the new, but for some reason, creaking door. It was dark, but the moonlight and another source showed him everything he needed to see.

That other source was a candle.

A candle seemed to be floating in the darkness, lighting a small area around it. The eerie, yellow light's glow lit another fire in the boy. More anger. As though he needed it.

The mere sight of the cafe was enough to send his teeth chattering with fury. The candle swam around the air for a little longer before resting in the boy's palm. Out of instinct, he jerked his arm away, but the candle followed. He held his hand out so the candle would fall, but it stayed, stubbornly stuck — like a scar, he'd have to wait for it to disappear, but until then it was a memory of something he wished he'd forgotten.

Far quicker than usual, the wax melted, but the fire was still alive and burning in the boy's hand. He could command it.

This was power.

He could finally finish it — finally do what he'd been wishing to do for a very long time.

He could destroy his memories. He could erase any trace of what had happened the night he'd lost everything.

So the boy raised his hand, breathed, threw it down, and ran.

Once he was outside of the cafe he grinned at his work.

He left Renald's in ruins. It was flaming red, orange, and yellow, burning down so fast it was as though the fires were eating it. The next day, locals and normals started on that same stone path to find their favorite cafe gone, all save for a few circular tables and a huge pile of gray, smoky-smelling ash.

The Fire of 1978 was truly awful, and definitely something that would be remembered forever. But not just because of the process of its burning. But what the boy had said once he had been caught three years later.

"You won't forget me!" he'd shouted. "I'll live on in the heart of Leiston! My job isn't over! You will rue the day when I come back in the form of my descendants! It will be most unusual when they show up, dear friends... And they will finish what I've started!"

Since then, Leiston had never been the same. It had never been the same since "Jarring Jason Andrews" had left that cursed message upon them forty-two years ago.

Forty-two years ago. In fact, he'd told them "They will finish what I've started" the very same day that Aiden Donovan Andrew's parents and grandparents had opened their company. The same one that had lost its touch and brought them to Leiston.