Pain was the bedrock of his new existence. It radiated from torn flesh, from cauterized lungs, from the very core of his being where the Rebirth Art nested like a hungry star. Kael lay sprawled on the hot stone floor, the rough surface a perverse comfort compared to the annihilating force of the Cinder Valve's pulse or the dissolving touch of the mire. His unnatural breathing cycled hot Ignis essence, each intake fanning the embers of agony, keeping exhaustion at bay even as his physical body threatened to disintegrate.

  But overriding the symphony of pain was a new sensation, far more insidious: hunger. Not the simple, gnawing emptiness of a starved stomach – he hadn’t felt true hunger since accepting the God-shard’s pact. This was a deep, aching void centered on the flickering flame within him. It felt thin, stretched, dangerously unstable after the explosive expenditure needed to pass the valve. It demanded fuel, not with words, but with a desperate, leaching pull against his own remaining energy, threatening to consume him from the inside out if left unfed.

  Replenish... The vessel weakens... The flame requires tribute...

  The God-shard’s whisper confirmed his fears, cold and pragmatic. There was no rest. Survival meant constant consumption.

  With a groan that was part pain, part grim acceptance, Kael forced himself into a sitting position. Every movement sent fresh waves of protest through his battered frame. He scanned the tunnel, his vision still swimming slightly, colors muted. The passage ahead continued its gentle downward slope, curving slightly out of sight. The stone walls seemed to press closer here, etched with strange, vein-like patterns that pulsed with the faintest residual heat, almost like capillaries in the God's corpse. The rhythmic thudding of the Cinder Valve was muffled now, a distant, ominous heartbeat.

  He needed Ignis essence, raw fire energy, and quickly. Sitting here, letting the hunger grow, felt like dying by slow degrees. He focused inward, extending his nascent heat sense, searching the immediate environment. The air itself thrummed with latent power, the background radiation of the God-Wound, but drawing significant amounts directly from the air felt inefficient, like trying to drink mist. The rock walls held energy, yes, but siphoning it like he did at the rockfall was slow, agonizing work, providing only trickles. He needed something richer, more concentrated.

  He pushed himself to his feet, swaying. Using the wall for support, he began to limp onward, his heat sense straining, probing the darkness ahead. He ignored the constant throb of his injuries, focusing solely on the quest for fuel. He was a furnace low on coals, and finding more was the only priority.

  After maybe fifty paces, the faint heat signatures he sought intensified. Nestled in an alcove off the main tunnel, pulsing with a soft, steady orange glow perceptible even to his compromised vision, was a cluster of crystalline formations. They weren't like normal crystals; they seemed almost organic, growing out of the rock like luminous fungi, each facet radiating waves of palpable heat and pure Ignis essence. They looked like solidified sunlight, humming with contained power.

  Fuel... Consume it...

  The God-shard’s urge was immediate, ravenous.

  Kael approached cautiously. Were they trapped energy? Some kind of solidified god-blood? Or a lure for something worse? He circled the alcove, his heat sense sweeping the area. Nothing else seemed nearby. The crystals emanated a clean, potent energy, untainted by the corrosive feel of the mire or the explosive violence of the valve. It felt... pure.

  He reached out a hand towards the nearest crystal, about the size of his fist. The heat washed over his skin, comforting and inviting compared to the hostile environment. He hesitated for only a moment. The demanding hunger of his internal flame overrode caution.

  He laid his palm flat against the crystal's surprisingly smooth surface. As he consciously willed it, opening the conduit forged by the Rebirth Art, the connection slammed into place. This wasn't the agonizing trickle from the rock, nor the burning gulp from the boulder. This was like latching onto a river of pure, liquid fire.

  The Ignis essence flooded into him, surging through his arm, straight to the famished flame in his core. The sensation was overwhelming – intense pleasure and searing pain blurring into one unbearable whole. His vision blanked out with the intensity of the influx. His flame flared brilliantly, greedily absorbing the energy, its faintness replaced by a roaring vigour. It felt like being simultaneously filled and burned alive. His scars flared red, his skin flushed, and his very bones seemed to resonate with the sudden overload of power.

  He ripped his hand away with a choked gasp, staggering back, the connection severing abruptly. The crystal he had touched glowed visibly dimmer, its internal light fractured. The echo of the energy surge reverberated through him, leaving him trembling, supercharged, his pain momentarily drowned out by the sheer potency coursing through his veins. The hunger within him was sated, replaced by a feeling of volatile fullness. The flame burned strong and steady now, stable, almost content.

  He looked at his hand. It was unharmed, but the memory of the raw power flowing through it was terrifying. That crystal contained more pure energy than he could have imagined. He felt stronger, more resilient. The fatigue was momentarily burned away. He was undeniably an Ember Initiate now, the foundation stabilized, the flame truly kindled and sustained.

  Good... Raw essence... Easily absorbed... But uncontrolled... Inefficient...

  The God-shard provided its usual critical assessment.

  You require refinement... Control... Lest you burn out like faulty kindling.

  Kael ignored it, breathing the hot energy, analyzing his own state. He felt the subtle shifts – his senses slightly sharper, his connection to the heat around him more defined, the background ache of his regenerating tissues marginally less debilitating. He had replenished his reserves, perhaps even strengthened them slightly. He had reached the baseline.

  He eyed the remaining crystals in the alcove. There were five more, ranging in size. Should he drain them all? Hoard the power? The God-shard urged consumption, but Kael felt a flicker of something else – calculation. Leaving them might be safer than risking another uncontrolled overload right now. Plus, draining this visible resource might alert anything else nearby to his presence. He didn't know what else lurked in these divine arteries.

  He made his decision. Survival wasn’t just about raw power, but about managing it. He would take what he needed, not everything he could grasp.

  He left the tempting glow of the Ignis crystals behind, the newly absorbed energy settling within him like a coiled serpent. Powerful, but restless. The tunnel floor remained rough, littered with sharp fragments of obsidian and clumps of brittle ash that crunched underfoot. He walked with a measured gait, forcing his battered body onward, relying more and more on the alien heat sense filtering through his awareness alongside his still-compromised sight. The world was a tapestry of shifting temperatures, superimposed over the dim, flickering crimson light his eyes could perceive.

  He hadn't gone far when a discordant note entered that thermal tapestry. Ahead, where the tunnel seemed to narrow again, a distinct heat signature detached itself from the ambient warmth of the rock. It was compact, mobile, and radiated a focused intensity that felt... predatory. Kael froze, every nerve ending – those still functioning normally, at least – screaming danger.

  Prey... or predator...?

  The God-shard offered no comfort, only cold analysis.

  This place teems with hunger.

  Kael flattened himself against the tunnel wall, peering into the dimness, straining both his eyes and his heat sense. The signature was moving rapidly, scuttling low to the ground, directly towards his position. It was definitely drawn to him, likely by the surge of energy he’d absorbed from the crystal. His recent caution felt chillingly prescient. Announcing his presence with such a potent flare of power had been foolishly naive.

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  A shape emerged from the gloom, visible now even to his damaged eyes. Roughly the size of a large dog, it resembled a scorpion sculpted from cooling magma and jagged obsidian shards. Its carapace glowed a dull, angry red, radiating waves of heat. Steam hissed faintly from joints that moved with an unnatural fluidity. Instead of pincers, it possessed razor-sharp forelimbs seemingly fused from volcanic glass, and its segmented tail arched high, ending not in a simple stinger, but in a wickedly serrated barb that dripped a viscous, heat-distorting fluid. Its multiple eyes, faceted and black, reflected the tunnel's light with unnerving intelligence. A Cinder Scorpion, one of the Gauntlet's indigenous horrors, born from the God's lingering agony and predatory energies.

  It paused, tilting its grotesque head, undoubtedly sensing him clearly now. Its mandibles clicked, a dry, grating sound against the tunnel’s oppressive silence. Then, with a speed that belied its rocky form, it exploded forward, not a simple lunge, but a skittering charge that covered the distance in a terrifying blur.

  Kael reacted purely on the survival instinct screaming through him, throwing himself sideways with desperate force. He felt a rush of intense heat as the scorpion blurred past, one razor-sharp obsidian forelimb slicing through the air where his chest had been, carving sparks and a deep gouge from the tunnel wall. Kael landed badly, pain flaring in his shoulder as it hit the unforgiving stone, but he didn't have time to register it.

  The Cinder Scorpion didn't overshoot. It pivoted with unnatural fluidity on its multiple legs, its barbed tail already whipping around in a vicious arc before Kael could even begin to scramble up. There was no time to dodge. Bracing himself, an otherworldly force pulled the Rebirth Art’s resilience to the forefront, thickening the strange, quasi-metallic quality of his skin. Kael threw up his forearm.

  The stinger struck his arm like a blacksmith's hammer blow. Obsidian met unnaturally hardened flesh and bone. A sickening crack echoed, distinct even over Kael’s grunt of pain – whether his bone or the stinger tip, he couldn’t tell. Searing, venomous heat flooded the impact point, a deeper agony than the physical blow. He felt the Rebirth Art flare violently within him, instantly warring against the venom, trying to contain the burning poison even as raw flesh was pulped and bone screamed in protest.

  He was knocked back, stumbling, his injured arm spasming uncontrollably. The scorpion pressed its advantage instantly. It didn't rely solely on its stinger; its glass-sharp forelimbs became a whirlwind, scything towards him. Kael, hampered by his spasming arm and still-compromised vision, ducked and weaved clumsily. One limb grazed his ribs, tearing through his rags and flesh, leaving a bleeding, shallow gash that instantly felt cauterized by the creature's innate heat. Another strike glanced off the rock beside his head, showering him with hot debris. He was completely on the defensive, overwhelmed by the creature's speed and ferocity.

  Fight back! Consume! Or be consumed!

  The God-shard’s voice demanded, devoid of sympathy.

  Rage, born of pain and desperation, surged through Kael. As the scorpion lunged again, aiming to impale him, he sidestepped at the last possible second, the movement jarring his injured leg. Ignoring the flare of agony, he swung his good fist in a wild, upward arc, pouring all his strength and fury into the blow. He connected solidly with the underside of the scorpion's 'jaw', just below its clicking mandibles.

  This time, the impact was more substantial. A wet crunch, and the scorpion staggered back a step, screeching, a thin line of what looked like steaming ichor leaking from the impact point. But Kael's victory was costly. The knuckles on his good hand felt shattered, pain lancing up his arm. Before he could even savour the small victory, his internal fire flared – the Rebirth Art was already knitting the bones back together with excruciating speed, grinding them into place. The feeling was almost as bad as the break itself.

  The scorpion shook its head, its multiple eyes locking onto Kael with renewed fury. The minor injury seemed only to enrage it. It feinted with its forelimbs, then suddenly spat a globule of viscous, green-black liquid – the same dissolving sludge he’d barely escaped in the previous chamber. Kael jerked his head back, the globule sailing past his face, hitting the wall behind him where it sizzled and ate into the stone with horrifying speed.

  Tactics... An adapting predator...

  The God-shard observed coldly.

  Do not let it trap you.

  The distraction almost worked. As Kael reacted to the spit, the scorpion's tail lashed out again, faster than before. He saw the stinger coming, aimed straight for his chest. No time to dodge, barely time to think. He desperately tried to channel his internal fire defensively, thickening his skin, bracing for the impact–

  Suddenly, he latched onto the idea the God-shard had presented earlier: Consume it. While the stinger was still feet away, he reached out not with his hand, but with his will, targeting the innate heat radiating from the scorpion's carapace, pulling its Ignis towards himself with desperate, ravenous intent.

  The effect was instantaneous but subtle. The scorpion faltered for a crucial microsecond, its predatory energy disrupted, its strike losing a fraction of its lethal momentum. The stinger still slammed into Kael’s chest, punching through the tattered remains of his tunic and piercing the unnaturally tough skin beneath. Blinding agony erupted as venom flooded him again, this time dangerously close to his core. But the momentary hesitation caused by the energy drain meant the strike wasn't as deep, and didn't have the same full, driving force as the first hit to his arm.

  He gasped, feeling the venom ignite within his chest, the Rebirth Art flaring desperately to contain it, a brutal internal war erupting just beneath his ribs. The scorpion, feeling its energy leeched and its attack partially thwarted, shrieked again and tried to push the stinger deeper, driving Kael backward.

  While locked in this horrific embrace, enduring agony that threatened to overwhelm his senses, Kael kept pulling. He siphoned the scorpion's heat, drawing its life-fire into his own churning core. The influx was tainted, laced with the creature’s mindless rage, but it was fuel. It fed his inner flame, bolstering its fight against the spreading venom, even as it felt like pouring acid onto an open wound. The scorpion visibly weakened, its glow dimming further, its struggles becoming less frantic.

  Now! Strike!

  The God-shard’s command was sharp, seizing the opportunity.

  Kael knew the drain alone wouldn't be enough. He needed to end this. Ignoring the stinger still embedded inches deep in his chest, ignoring the firestorm raging within him, he gathered every scrap of energy he’d just stolen, added a painful surge ripped directly from his own internal reserves, focused it with his clear, cold mind borne from altered breath, and shoved it outwards. Not a wave this time, but a concentrated beam, raw and jagged, fired from his free hand directly into the creature’s already-damaged head.

  FWOOSH!

  The sound was like wet wood thrown onto a forge. The scorpion’s head erupted. Its multiple eyes instantly boiled into vapor, the cracked carapace blackened and melted, spraying gore and superheated ichor. The creature released the stinger reflexively as its nervous system disintegrated, staggering back, blindly thrashing its obsidian limbs and tail in its death throes.

  Kael collapsed to his knees, ripping the barbed stinger free from his chest with a choked sob, leaving a ragged, venom-fouled wound. He watched, gasping searing energy, as the scorpion thrashed for a few more seconds before finally collapsing, its limbs twitching, its internal glow fading rapidly into embers.

  Silence fell, thick and suffocating, broken only by Kael’s ragged cycling of Ignis essence and the distant, mocking THUD of the Cinder Valve. He knelt there, trembling violently, blood and ichor spattered across his burned and torn flesh. The battle had lasted perhaps less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity of focused agony. The venom in his chest was being slowly neutralized by the Rebirth Art, leaving behind a deep, grinding ache and newly forming internal scar tissue.

  He stared at the cooling husk.

  Consume... Waste nothing...

  There was no hesitation now, only grim necessity. He crawled forward, ignoring the screaming pain, placed his shaking palm on the obsidian carapace, and drained the last vestiges of its fading life-fire. It was a pathetic amount, nowhere near enough to replace what he'd spent, but it slightly eased the desperate hunger of his own internal flame. As the last spark vanished into him, the scorpion’s husk crumbled into fine grey ash and blackened shards, absorbed back into the substance of the God-Wound.

  Kael remained kneeling, head bowed, slick with sweat, blood, and grime. This victory felt different. Harder won. More costly. It wasn’t just about enduring; it was about tearing victory from the jaws of death using pain as a weapon and sacrifice as fuel. The Gauntlet wasn't just testing him; it was actively shaping him into the same kind of predatory monster that stalked its fiery depths. He finally pushed himself upright, steadying himself against the wall, the taste of ash bitter in his mouth. He took a shuddering intake of hot energy and forced himself to move onward.

  Stronger challenges await, the God-shard had warned. Kael had no doubt it was right.