Nathan sat slumped against the wall of his cell, eyes closed, his body pulsing with an intense, simmering heat that felt as though it would boil him alive. The sensation was relentless—a fire, not of the flesh but of something deeper, primal, raging within him, threatening to consume him from the inside out. Sweat drenched his skin, every breath burned, and his muscles felt raw, as though stretched taut over white-hot coals.
In the corridor outside, the murmur of two GRA agents filtered through the heavy steel door, their voices low but edged with urgency.
"Have you seen his readings?" one of them whispered. "It's like he's got a furnace inside of him."
"Yeah, but here's the thing," came the other's reply, dripping with disdain. "He's still contained. Might be breaking a sweat, but he's still a caged animal. No different than the others."
Nathan's hands clenched, knuckles turning white. The fire surged in response, and he welcomed it, fed off it, even as it scorched his nerves with every spark.
Just then, the door slid open with a faint hiss, revealing Dr. Castor—a lanky, cold-eyed man with the smug, clinical precision of someone who dissected emotions as much as bodies.
"How's our patient today?" Castor's voice held that same detached amusement, as though he were addressing a mildly interesting experiment rather than a person. He held up a scanner, eyeing Nathan with professional disdain. "Feeling a little… feverish?"
Nathan looked up, smirking despite the pounding heat. "You should try it sometime, Doc. Might thaw that ice in your veins."
Castor's lips twisted in something resembling a smile. "Cute. But let's keep the banter to a minimum, shall we?" He aimed the scanner, frowning as he studied the readings. "Fascinating… your internal temperature's climbing, almost at the edge of what's physically possible. How are you still conscious?"
Nathan held his gaze. "Guess it takes more than a little heat to break me."
Castor chuckled, almost impressed. "Is that what you think? You're at the mercy of forces beyond your comprehension, Mr. Wilson. The GRA has seen this before—you're not the first anomaly we've had the pleasure of containing."
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Contain? More like torture."
"Perspective," Castor replied coolly, pocketing the scanner. "Call it what you will, but in the end, it's about control. Now, the question is, are you about to burn out… or break down?"
The remark lingered as Castor left, the cell door locking with a harsh metallic thud. Nathan tried to force the rising anger down, but it bubbled up, mixing with the heat inside him until he felt his skin prickling, burning.
Hours drifted by in a feverish haze. The walls of his cell seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, and the fire within him grew, fierce and unyielding. He couldn't tell if the visions were worsening or if reality itself was slipping through his fingers, but he could see the flickers of flame in the corners of his vision, crawling along the cell walls, their shadows dancing in his mind.
Then, suddenly, he felt himself pulled again, his consciousness dragged into that blistering, fiery landscape. The cracked ground stretched endlessly, its obsidian surface glowing like embers. And there, in the distance, the fiery being watched him, a figure of immense, blinding light, a creature that looked as though it had been born from the heart of a star.
Who are you? Nathan tried to shout, but his voice dissolved in the heat, consumed by the roaring inferno that filled the air. He could feel the entity's gaze, a weight pressing on his soul, a raw, ancient force that seemed to recognize something within him.
The creature extended a hand, and a wave of fire surged forward, barreling toward Nathan, but he didn't move. He couldn't. He stood, helpless as the flames engulfed him, searing through his skin, his bones, straight into his core.
He jolted back into his cell, gasping, his body drenched in sweat. His skin tingled, the sensation of flames still licking at him from within, refusing to leave him be. His vision swam, and he struggled to focus, only to catch sight of the faint glow on his palm. He lifted his hand, staring at the subtle red sigil that had appeared there, pulsating like a heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of the fire inside him.
The fire will break you, or you will break it.
The message flashed across his mind, an echo that made his jaw clench. He felt his fingers curl into a fist, the mark on his palm flaring with heat. If this was some kind of twisted challenge from the System, he was ready to face it. The GRA wanted to break him, but he'd show them what it meant to endure.
The door opened abruptly, and two guards entered, one of them flashing a mocking grin.
"On your feet," the first guard said. "You're getting a little upgrade, again.The GRA's moving you to a heat-resistant chamber. Don't want you burning up on us."
Nathan glared but complied, his body aching as he stood. The guards led him down a series of sterile hallways until they reached a larger cell. The walls were reinforced with some kind of heat-reflective material, the cold shine of it almost mocking.
One of the guards leaned close, voice dripping with amusement. "Looks like someone thinks you're special. But let me tell you something, Wilson—just because you burn a little hotter doesn't mean you're any different. You're still just an experiment, just a test subject."
He fought the urge to retort, focusing instead on steadying his breathing. The guards shoved him inside, the door slamming shut with a jarring finality. Nathan stood alone, the cold sheen of the walls a stark contrast to the smoldering fire that twisted within him.
He let out a slow breath, feeling the fire flare, reacting to his anger, his frustration, his unyielding need to fight back. The sigil on his hand pulsed again, a steady, rhythmic glow that seemed to whisper, to taunt.
Hours stretched on, each one dragging Nathan deeper into exhaustion, yet the fire inside refused to die. It clung to him, feeding on his emotions, burning brighter every time he thought of Castor, of the guards, of the GRA's cold, clinical methods, stripping away his humanity piece by piece.
As he sat, the System pulsed to life in his mind, a single, cryptic message appearing before his eyes.
Endure the flames.
"Easy for you to say," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pulse, the fire, the presence lurking in his visions. He could feel it growing stronger, more insistent, as if it were challenging him, urging him to face it, to confront the flames head-on.
In the darkness behind his eyes, he could see it again—that endless, fiery wasteland, that creature of flame watching him, waiting. He reached out in his mind, feeling the fire surge, feeding off his determination, his rage, his desperation.
If this is a fight you want, he thought, then let's see who breaks first.
Hours passed, though he couldn't tell if he was awake or trapped within a fevered nightmare. The visions grew more intense, the fire more relentless, until he felt as though he were drifting in a sea of molten heat. His body ached, his skin felt raw, but the fire only seemed to grow, consuming every last bit of energy he had left.
And then, finally, something shifted.
He opened his eyes, and there, etched into the reflective wall of his cell, was a faint sigil—the same mark that had appeared on his hand, now larger, glowing with an intense, fiery light. It pulsed with the same rhythm as the heat within him, as though his very being had seared itself onto the walls.
The door opened, and one of the guards stopped, his gaze flickering from Nathan to the burning sigil. "What the hell is that?"
"Looks like someone's got himself a little graffiti project," the other guard sneered, but his eyes betrayed a hint of unease.
Nathan smirked, the fire within him blazing in response to their nervous glances. "Guess I'm just getting comfortable. You should tell your boss that some fires… can't be contained."
The guards exchanged a wary glance, their bravado slipping, and for the first time, Nathan saw a glimmer of fear in their eyes.
As they retreated, he leaned back, feeling the fire settle, coiled and waiting, biding its time. The System's taunting message flickered through his mind once more, almost as though it were testing his resolve.
The fire will break you, or you will break it.
Nathan let out a slow breath, his gaze hardening. He was ready to take the flames head-on. Because if they wanted him to break, they'd have to throw something far hotter, far more consuming, than the fire he could feel smoldering in his soul.