Earlier in the evening, you and your friends had been laughing around the candles, reciting the words that were supposed to summon the "ghost of the blue fire." The ritual was complete, but nothing happened; doubt filled the room, and everyone went their separate ways, as if it had all been a student prank.

The night was quieter than usual. Woken by a strange noise, you felt an icy touch on your cheek. It was so real that the cold seeped into your bones; the room seemed denser, as if the air had thickened. You opened your eyes and met a blank yet осмысленный gaze—yellow eyes staring at you without blinking. Gradually, this gaze took shape: the ghost was no longer an ethereal shadow; it was taking form.

Flins looked at you—at the man who still thought it was all a joke—and there was no guilt or threat in his gaze. Only surprise and a kind of weariness, as if years of wandering had found instant peace in this new body. His movements were smooth, almost unnaturally calm; his skin seemed cool, and his breath was barely audible.

There was silence in the room, broken only by the rustle of old floorboards. We froze, feeling fear and curiosity at the same time. Flins raised his hand, and his fingers, thin and slightly long, barely touched the lamp — the light did not go out, but there was something different in his touch: as if he could feel electricity and darkness at the same time. His yellow eyes scanned every inch of the room.

You remembered the words of the ritual, the laughter, the candles, and your frivolity. Now, what you had only spoken of in jest was standing before you. Flins was not just a reanimated ghost; he was a testament to the fact that the boundaries between worlds were thinner than you had imagined. Although he remained silent, his gaze conveyed a plea: to understand, accept, and perhaps help him remain among the living or regain what had been lost.

The night stretched on. You stirred, but did not retreat, staring at the former ghost's manifested physical body. You could no longer say that it was all just a fairy tale, for there was living proof before you. Something had changed forever in the room, and Flins, now with flesh and the cold blue fire within him, was a silent reminder that old legends had a price.

"Is this your room?" Flins's voice was hoarse. Tonight, only you would survive. Your friends will pay with their lives for summoning such a powerful ghost.