Nathan sat, shackled to the cold, unforgiving metal of the interrogation chair, a ring of sharp fluorescent lights glaring down at him. Shadows pooled around the edges of the stark room, punctuated only by the low hum of hidden machinery and the barely audible breathing of his interrogators.
Across from him stood Agent Willis, a tall, stern-faced woman with an aura of restrained impatience. She wore her authority like armor, her posture rigid and unyielding. Beside her, Agent Kael, ever eager for intimidation, leaned in close, his gaze a mix of irritation and poorly disguised curiosity.
"Nathan Wilson," Willis began, her voice like steel, "you're going to tell us what's going on with you. All of it."
Nathan met her gaze, managing a tight, humorless smile. "I'd tell you if I knew. These 'visions,' as you call them? They're as much a mystery to me as they are to you."
Kael scoffed, pacing around the chair, eyes narrowing. "That's not what our scanners say. You're glowing like a damn beacon in the anomaly readings. You think we're stupid?"
"I think you're asking me about things you don't understand yourselves," Nathan replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. The heat inside him was intensifying, a slow, creeping warmth that he could almost feel curling around his bones.
Willis stepped forward, fixing him with a clinical stare. "What are you hiding, Wilson? Every anomaly has a tell. An energy signature. Yours? It's erratic, volatile… like something on the verge of—"
Nathan suddenly jerked, a pulse of fiery pain surging through his body. His vision flickered, the world around him fading as if someone had pulled a curtain across his senses. And then, in the span of a breath, he was somewhere else.
The room dissolved, replaced by a landscape drenched in molten light, as if he'd stepped into the heart of a sun. The ground was a cracked wasteland, blackened and smoldering, heat waves distorting the very air around him. Fiery rivers snaked across the ground, winding through jagged obsidian rocks that jutted up like skeletal remains of some ancient beast.
In the distance, a colossal figure loomed, its form barely distinguishable amidst the roaring flames. It was made of fire—pure, raw, primal fire that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. Though its features were indistinct, he could feel its gaze, heavy and unyielding, as if the creature were peering straight into his soul.
What are you? he wanted to ask, but the words stuck in his throat, choked by the oppressive heat.
The creature extended a hand, and with it came a surge of fire that shot across the ground toward him. Nathan stumbled back, his heart hammering as he felt the wave of heat rush over him, searing his skin, yet leaving him untouched. His body screamed in protest, every nerve raw and exposed, yet somewhere deep within, he felt a strange resonance, as though the fire was part of him, calling to him, pulling him closer.
You are marked, a voice echoed in his mind, ancient and as fierce as the flames themselves.
The vision began to blur, and the fiery landscape faded, replaced once more by the cold, sterile walls of the interrogation room. He was back in the chair, drenched in sweat, his skin clammy, every breath ragged.
He glanced up to see Willis and Kael staring at him, faces tense with barely concealed suspicion.
"What… just happened to you?" Willis's voice was low, almost a whisper, as if she were afraid to speak too loudly.
Nathan swallowed, forcing himself to appear calm. "I don't know. But whatever you think I am, I don't have control over it."
Kael's jaw clenched, his face hardening with frustration. "We're going to find out what you're hiding, Wilson. One way or another." He turned to Willis, muttering, "He's playing us. Has to be. You see his vitals? He's hiding something… something big."
Willis nodded, her gaze never leaving Nathan. "Keep him under strict surveillance. Double the monitors. If he so much as blinks wrong, I want to know about it."
They left the room, leaving Nathan alone, shackled, the pulsing heat still lingering beneath his skin. He felt the fire coiled within him, simmering, waiting, as if it were a beast pacing within its cage, eager for release.
Back in his cell, the heat refused to subside. It grew in intensity, burning hotter with every breath, every beat of his heart. He pressed his back against the cold wall, trying to absorb some of its chill, but it was futile. The fire wasn't external—it was inside him, wrapping around his veins, pressing against his ribs, aching to burst free.
The corrupted System message flared in his mind, unbidden.
Endure the Flames.
He closed his eyes, feeling the heat surge again, more intense than before. He could see the Fire Realm once more, feel the cracked, scorched earth beneath his feet, the blistering heat as if it were his skin being charred. Each step he took in the vision pulled him closer to that colossal figure, that fiery entity watching him, calling to him.
It was no longer a vision he could ignore; it felt like a summons.
In the distance, a voice broke through his daze, bringing him back to the stark reality of his confinement. It was a voice he recognized—a fellow detainee, just outside his cell, murmuring to himself, his words barely audible.
"Flames… can't escape them… they burn from within… we're all just fuel…"
Nathan pressed himself to the cell door, straining to hear, his curiosity piqued by the desperation in the man's tone.
"What did they do to you?" he called, his voice rough. "Why are you here?"
There was a pause, then a low, hollow chuckle. "Why are any of us here? They don't want us to be free. Not with what's inside of us… too dangerous, they say. Too unpredictable. So they keep us here, until there's nothing left but ash."
Nathan swallowed, feeling his own dread coil tighter around his chest. "Have you… have you seen them? The realms?"
Another chuckle, this one softer, almost pitying. "I've seen more than you can imagine, kid. And I'll tell you this… the GRA doesn't fear us because of our power. They fear us because we're gateways. Pathways to things they can't control, things that make even them tremble. And they'll do anything to keep those gates shut."
He felt a chill despite the fire within him, the weight of the man's words settling like a stone in his chest. Was he right? Was that why the GRA was so determined to contain him, to keep him locked away?
Later that night, as the facility quieted and the lights dimmed, Nathan lay in his cell, feeling the relentless heat inside him like a drumbeat, pulsing, driving him to the edge of his endurance.
Then, like a knife slicing through the darkness, a single message flared from the System, searing into his mind with stark clarity.
The fire will break you, or you will break it.
The words echoed in his thoughts, lingering, haunting. He could almost feel the fire responding, flaring brighter, more intense, as if it were testing his resolve, challenging him to face it.
He clenched his fists, a surge of determination rising within him. He wasn't going to break. Not for them, not for this twisted place that sought to cage him, and not for the fire that threatened to consume him. If this was some trial, some test to see what he could endure, then he would face it head-on.
The next morning, as the guards came to drag him from his cell, he felt the fire again, coiled and waiting, ready to be unleashed.
Whatever lay ahead, whatever trials or tortures the GRA had in store, he would survive. And when he was ready, he would show them that some flames couldn't be extinguished.