Pain wasn't new anymore. It was a companion, gnawing and relentless, whispering with every bruise and burn that there was an end somewhere if he just gave up. Nathan lay on the cold floor of his cell, his mind drifting in and out of focus as his battered body tried to catch a reprieve. His skin was raw, his muscles ached from Kael's latest "session," and his spirit—well, his spirit was teetering, hanging by a thread he wasn't even sure he wanted to hold onto anymore.
The door clanged open, a sound that jolted his heart even as his body refused to react. He didn't bother to look up. Kael's voice oozed into the room, sickly sweet, dripping with that insidious malice.
"Back for more already, Nathan?" Kael's tone was a dagger, twisting with satisfaction. "Or have you finally decided to let go of that laughable pride of yours?"
Nathan's silence was his only shield. He refused to look at Kael, refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, he kept his eyes on a small crack in the concrete floor, something steady to ground himself on.
"Ah," Kael murmured, tapping his foot lightly. "That's good. Resigned, aren't we? It's about time you learned your place."
A spark of anger flickered, brief and fading, but it was there. Nathan knew Kael was trying to dig in, to leave marks deeper than any bruise or broken bone. He shut his eyes, blocking Kael out, letting the silence stretch.
But Kael wasn't so easily ignored.
"I wonder, does that precious fire of yours keep you warm enough to feel proud?" Kael taunted, a smirk audible in his tone. "Does it fuel you through the agony, or is it just a dying ember now? Maybe it's time to admit you're as powerless as the rest of them. Accept it, and I might even let you out of this hell."
Nathan swallowed back the dryness in his throat, a bitter taste mingling with his rage. He forced himself to push back, to remember that fire within, however faint. The visions he'd glimpsed, the call of the Primordial Fire Realm—it wasn't gone, not yet. But doubt was creeping in, twisting through his mind like a dark vine.
Kael took a step closer, his presence looming. "Tell me, Nathan," he drawled, mockingly gentle, "what are you holding onto, exactly?"
Nathan's voice cracked as he finally spoke, a whisper but strong enough. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Kael laughed, low and dark. "Oh, still pretending, are we?" His voice turned sharp. "Fine. But know this—I don't just break people, Nathan. I leave them with nothing. Even if you think there's something left to hold onto, I'll make sure you're empty by the time I'm done with you."
The door slammed shut, his footsteps fading, but his words lingered like a stain, soaking into the silence.
Left alone, Nathan let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of Kael's words settling over him. For the first time since his capture, he felt a thread of despair sink into his core, wrapping around him tighter than any chains.
Hours passed, maybe more. Time was an elusive thing in the darkness, slipping away in a haze of pain and exhaustion. Nathan's thoughts spiraled, catching on Kael's words. How long could he endure this? How much further could he go before he simply… broke?
A faint flicker danced at the edge of his vision, a flash of warmth that startled him. The flame—familiar, comforting—was small, almost imperceptible, but its presence pulled him back from the edge of surrender.
The Primordial Fire Realm.
In his mind, he saw it again, the landscape of eternal flame and shadow. This time, the figure that had always remained distant now stood closer, watching him, a fierce determination burning in its gaze.
Nathan felt it then, a warmth that wasn't born of pain or fury, but of resilience. The figure wasn't just an image; it was a challenge, a reminder. The flames called to him, urging him to reach out, to endure, to survive.
A murmur echoed through his mind—a silent communication, yet he understood it as clearly as his own thoughts:
Keep fighting.
The flame pulsed within him, brighter, as if answering the entity's call. And with it, he felt a hint of his power return, the heat within him faint but growing, a steady ember waiting for fuel. His fingers twitched, and he closed his eyes, focusing, calling out to the fire within.
He needed it. He needed to hold onto it, to kindle it with every ounce of strength he had left.
The next day brought Kael back, his expression colder, a quiet fury smoldering behind his eyes. "Surprised you're still holding on, but no matter," he sneered. "Today, I make sure that pathetic hope of yours is finally extinguished."
He dragged Nathan to his feet, hauling him with an unforgiving grip down the hall and into another chamber. This one was different—a containment arena lined with reinforced walls and empty of anything save a single metal chair in the center. Kael tossed him forward, and he staggered, barely catching himself.
"Let's see if a little incentive helps you find your place," Kael said, his voice venomous.
Nathan looked up, forcing himself to meet Kael's gaze. "I'm not breaking for you."
"Defiance," Kael spat, almost laughing. "Cute, really. But you'll find it's wasted here." He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I've broken others stronger than you. And they had just as much hope. Just as much fire."
Kael's fist came down like a sledgehammer, striking Nathan squarely in the stomach. The blow stole his breath, a wave of nausea crashing over him, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to make a sound.
"Ah, still holding on?" Kael smirked. "Good. That makes this… enjoyable."
Each strike that followed was calculated, vicious, each one designed to strip away another layer of resistance. Nathan tried to summon his Heat Shield, but the energy faltered, flickering weakly. The shield was there, but barely—a desperate, fleeting defense that crumbled under Kael's relentless assault.
Pain blurred his vision, each blow leaving him dizzier, the world fading in and out as Kael's mocking words echoed around him.
"You think you're special, don't you?" Kael's voice was a razor, slicing into him. "There's nothing special about you, Nathan. Nothing worth fighting for."
Nathan fought to keep his grip on that inner flame, feeling it dimming, retreating under the onslaught. His heart pounded, his mind a whirl of defiance and agony, but Kael's words cut deep, pressing him toward the edge of surrender.
In a dazed moment, he felt the faintest touch of warmth, the fire in his mind calling to him, urging him to keep fighting, to endure. It was there—a flicker, fragile but alive.
Kael's fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back. "Face it," Kael snarled, bending down to meet Nathan's gaze. "You're already broken."
Nathan's lips twisted into a faint, bloodied smile, his voice a breathless rasp. "Guess… you don't know me as well as you think."
A flicker of anger flashed in Kael's eyes, and he straightened, his hand tightening into a fist. "Then let me make this clear." He raised his arm, ready to deliver another brutal blow, his voice a low snarl. "This ends now."
His vision dimmed.