Kael's grip was iron. He hauled Nathan down the bleak corridor, his boots echoing off the cold walls as he dragged his prey to a larger, unforgiving arena. Nathan's body, bruised and battered, swayed with each pull, but his mind? His mind was still grasping onto something faint, something burning.
"Think of this as... your last lesson, Nathan," Kael murmured, his voice a low threat laced with glee. "In case you've forgotten your place here."
Kael's hand tightened, and Nathan felt his fingers dig in, merciless and final. They reached a cold, cavernous room—the containment arena, with reinforced walls and a towering ceiling that swallowed all light, leaving only a harsh circle of illumination around them. Nathan's stomach churned as Kael let go, leaving him to stand, wobbly and weak, in the unforgiving ring.
Kael took a step back, eyeing Nathan with a predatory smile. "Today, you'll understand just how insignificant you are." His voice dropped, barely a whisper but chilling in its intent. "And if you don't, I'll make sure you never stand again to challenge me."
Nathan lifted his chin, meeting Kael's gaze, defiance flickering in his eyes despite the pain wracking his body. "Do your worst," he rasped.
"Oh, I intend to," Kael replied with a smirk.
The first blow hit with the weight of a sledgehammer, a burst of agony that shot through Nathan's ribcage. Kael didn't hold back, each punch carrying the brutal force of his Blessed strength. Nathan felt his ribs creak, one of them cracking under the force, and he bit down hard, refusing to give Kael the satisfaction of his pain.
"Is that it?" Kael jeered, delivering another punishing strike to Nathan's abdomen, making him buckle. "Where's that fire now? All that resistance, all that hope—gone in a single hit, isn't it?"
Nathan struggled to catch his breath, forcing himself to stay upright, to stay defiant. He called upon his Heat Shield, feeling it flicker to life, a weak defense that shimmered around him. But it was a thin veil, a whisper of power that struggled to hold. Kael's fist collided with it, and the shield shattered like glass, dissipating into nothing.
"Pathetic," Kael sneered, watching Nathan stumble back. "Is this really the best you've got? After everything you've endured?"
Through the haze of pain, Nathan's mind screamed for the System, an instinctive call for help, for guidance. Anything. But the System remained quiet, a silent witness to his suffering. It felt almost intentional, as if testing him, waiting to see if he could endure the torment without aid.
Kael's voice dripped with mockery. "You think that System of yours will save you? You think it cares about you?" He delivered a kick to Nathan's chest, sending him sprawling across the floor. "Systems are just tools. And you're a broken one."
A surge of anger bubbled up within Nathan, but it was faint, lost under the relentless pain. He tried to summon the Heat Shield again, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into it, but the shield barely flickered before it extinguished.
Kael laughed, low and cold. "Is that it? Come on, show me something worth breaking."
Nathan's fingers scraped against the cold floor as he pushed himself up, his vision blurring, his body screaming in protest. But he wouldn't—couldn't—let Kael see him give up. Not yet. Not when that faint ember of fire still flickered somewhere deep within.
With a grunt, he forced himself upright, his voice barely a whisper. "You haven't won."
"Oh, but I already have," Kael replied, his tone almost casual, like he was discussing the weather. He flexed his fingers, his Blessed power flaring as his skin hardened to an iron-like sheen. "This is just... the encore."
Kael's fist came down, a brutal arc aimed straight for Nathan's head. Nathan raised his arm in a feeble attempt to block, but the punch connected with shattering force, sending him crashing to the ground. Stars exploded in his vision, and he tasted blood, thick and metallic, pooling in his mouth.
For a moment, he lay there, unmoving, as Kael circled him, reveling in his power. "Look at you," Kael sneered. "A broken toy. And you thought you could stand against me?"
Through the fog of pain, Nathan felt a flicker of something. Not strength—he was far too exhausted for that—but a memory. A vision of the fire realm, the figure watching him, silent and unyielding. It was a reminder, a quiet call that told him to endure, to survive, to rise.
With a trembling hand, he braced himself against the ground, forcing himself to look up at Kael. His vision was fading, but he could see enough—the smug smirk, the taunting gleam in Kael's eyes. And somehow, despite everything, he found his voice.
"You... won't break me," Nathan whispered, every word a struggle. "I'm... not yours to break."
Kael's smirk faded, his expression darkening as he stepped closer. "Oh? Is that what you believe? That you still have some semblance of strength left?"
Kael's boot came down, striking Nathan's side with brutal precision. Nathan felt something give—a rib, maybe two. Pain shot through him, sharp and consuming, but he refused to look away, to show weakness. The defiance in his eyes was dim, a flickering candle, but it was there.
"You'll regret that," Kael hissed, his voice a low snarl. He raised his fist again, ready to deliver another crushing blow, when something within Nathan shifted—a surge, an instinct, a call to the fire within him.
Then, he did it.