I feel a taste of brimstone before I see it. Cracks in walls of dull, jet black obsidian spill rivers of molten rock through the blackened fissures. I step hard in my boots and the stone floor sings beneath me, and the plasma blade hums at my waist. The Boundless Evolution System HUD flashes in my field of view: 01:10:22 until System Link Time Out. Every second matters.
Echo's voice repeats in my head: "Defeat the Ashborn Imp, and claim its Emberheart Core." An insignificant demon," he said —"and yet it has within its centre the spark of creation.
I enter a widening chamber. Drops of lava drip from the stalactites, and each one sizzles into steam. Heat warps the air. Shadows twist grotesquely. The runes sliced into the walls are dripping silver light. At the centre (with a burning pentagon in the floor, glowing red).
A high-pitched, wobbly laugh snakes through the haze. "By Kairo Vale…" The Imp's voice drips with venom. "Come to claim your prize?"
I grip my blade tighter. "I'm here to end you."
Out of the darkness it slithers, the Ashborn Imp, barely waist-high, lit-from-inside ember body and obsidian cracked skin. It has two stumpy legs and arms that terminate with three talony fingers dripping hot ichor. Its eyes are two coals, smoldering with mischief.
It tilts its head. "Such bravado. Can you withstand my inferno?"
I adjust my stance, feel sweat starting to bead at my temples even in the warm. "We'll see."
Without warning the Imp hisses and takes a lurch at them. I leap away, the blade whining through a broad stroke. I miss by a hair as it lunges forward, claws slashing across my arm. Pain blossoms, white-hot. Instinct blares: I slash downward, grabbing its right leg. Sparks and embers fall as I dig through the cracked flesh.
The Imp shrieks, stumbling. Lava oozes from the hole, sizzling on the ground. It whips around, arms flaring. "You dare—"
My blood hammers. "I dare."
I attack again, sword sliding under its other leg. The creature buckles, toppling. I roll it onto its back and put the blade to its throat. It writhes, smoke coming from its maw.
"Wait—" it rasps, voice choking.
I pause, blade trembling. That moment is my test: mercy or victory. The System HUD pulsates: Mutation Path Unlocked – Emberheart Surge. The choice crystallizes—kill, devour, evolve.
I close my eyes, take a breath, remind myself of Echo's promise, of Lirael's faith, of everyone's lives at stake. I can't hesitate.
I plunge the blade into its chest. The Imp's shape explodes in a geyser of molten coal that rains down on my arms and chest. I bite into the anguish and tell my fingers not to freak out. Its flesh turns to jelly and sloshes itself at my feet, burning like tar.
Heat roars at my ankles. The ember pool undulates, flows upward — as a breaker would come crashing. Lava rivers of core envelop my form, burning through my armor. I shriek, but steel and flesh meld into a fresh crucible. Everything goes all disco-fragmented and then coalesces around two exploding jets of flame coming out of my shoulder blades.
My arms convulse. I collapse backward, slamming the wall with a crack that echoes through my skull. The new limbs stretch out: ember-forged wings, rough and red-hot. Every beat sends sparks into the air, and each gust of heat is enough to send the runes around me into cinders.
I gasp, every nerve aflame. My HUD blinks:
Vitality ▏▇▇▇▏▏
Strength ▏▇▇▇▏▏
Chaos Stability ▏▏▏▏▏▏
And a new line: Emberheart Surge Activated.
I get unsteadily to my feet, my fingers wet with liquid fire. Pain slithers through me—flames shredding my skin and eating my bones. My head swims.
A somehow very angry roar reverberates from down the hallway. Steam hisses from the ground. My new wings beat, molten-weighted. I flex my fingers; the heat in the chamber seems to rise up, hang in the air.
Voices echo in my wake—Lirael screaming madly inside my head: "Kairo! Are you all right?"
I stumble forward and the HUD blinks to yellow text: "Chaos Stability Critical — Unstable Mutation Imminent."
Every step sears my boots. I taste smoke on my tongue. My vision flickers—borders darkening.
I start to crawl down the room's throat. Flames of torchlight dance off walls that are dinged with scorch marks. Five pillars remain standing but the Death Pillar I rescued shivers, new cracks appearing. The Vault shrieks against the Void.
I press my side, ash and blood dripping between fingers. Lirael's face swims before me, white and worried. "Wait," she whispers in my mind. "Hold on — focus on the system link.
I shut my eyes, wheezing, pinching the skin at my wrist. I sense the glimpse of the bare HUD tether—just enough. I pump Willpower into the Chaos Stability bar, pushing it back out from the bottom into the third level. The wings shudder, their heat fading from deafening inferno to simmering glow.
My heart is pounding, each beat a hammer. My ribs ache. But the mutation holds—for now.
I awaken to the chamber. The Imp's liquefied soul cools, and reforms into a jagged crystal shard at my feet. It pulses a soft light of ember‑red: the Emberheart Core.
I drop to my knees, stretching out, everything loud in me wanting to turn from the grotesque metamorphosis. The System tells me: "Absorb Core? Y/N."
My fingers curl around the splinter. The silver hot power races up my arm—fire bolting through veins, catching sinew aflame. I grind my teeth, trying to turn the pain into purpose.
My outer skin aflame where the energy nests just below. The fragment dissolves and the HUD updates:
+2 Vitality | +2 Strength
Mutation Path Unlocked: Emberheart Sovereign
Chaos Stability –1
I gasp, stagger to my feet. The wings recoil back into my flesh as I exhale, the flesh pools into my back like molten skin cooling, leaving bright seams of light along my spine.
The chamber shakes; wails of the vault alarms. Voidspawn pour through crumbling gates, tides of darkness hungry for broken supports. I can taste the smoke and ash in every breath.
Lirael's voice comes at a rush: "The Iron Pillar has widened—it's you we need at the ramparts!"
As my heart leaps and dips, this new force swells inside of me. My visionis exhaled from the sides—Chaos Stabilityhas a seizure: 01/06.
I hear the Gasping Imp—one last laugh in his head: "See your glory, but now you see your doom…"
Rage ignites. I surge forward from the hallway, boots clanking upon droplets of molten. I hover it at my side, the ember‑scars of my wings throbbing.
If this is what evolution is like — ruthless, excruciating, addicting — I will conquer that, too.
I stride into the corridor, on to the battlements, to Lirael, to the next fight. Every step blazes away into the footprinted trail.
And in that searing beat, I write the first true testament of my strength—and the first warning of its cost.