The starlight Directive

Victor's body felt like it was on fire. But not in the way it had before. This time, it wasn't pain. It was power. Pure, surging, uncontrollable power. His veins felt like molten metal, his heartbeat like the pounding of a war drum. Every pulse of the Rift matched the thrum in his chest, each one stoking the blaze inside him.

He clenched his fists, breathing in slow, controlled breaths. The air around him shimmered with heat, faint waves of distortion rising from his skin.

Focus, Victor. Focus.

He remembered the stories of Zhorul who could manipulate the elements — monsters with claws of fire, breath of frost, and eyes of lightning. They weren't born with it. The Rift gave it to them. Just like it was doing to him now.

But I'm not a Zhorul. He wouldn't be controlled by it.

His eyes lifted to the Rift — swirling, pulsing, watching. The mark on his chest throbbed, a steady rhythm in tune with the Rift's glow. He glanced down at it, his brow furrowed in frustration. No matter how much he rubbed or scratched, it didn't fade. It wasn't a wound. It was part of him now.

"You think you own me, huh?" Victor muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers curled into his palm, nails digging into his skin. "You think I'm just another puppet to play with?"

The Rift didn't respond with words this time. It didn't have to.

Instead, it pulsed.

BOOM.

A shockwave rolled through the air, rattling the stone beneath his feet. He stumbled back but didn't fall. His eyes snapped to the Rift, his jaw tightening.

"Yeah, I figured as much," he growled, steadying his stance. "You're not the first thing that's tried to break me."

His fingers twitched. Heat. It was faint, but it was there. Right beneath his skin. He could feel it like a second heartbeat, just waiting to be unleashed. He took a deep breath, focusing on it, drawing it toward his hands. Come on, come on…

The warmth built slowly. First in his chest, then down his arms, his forearms tingling like they'd fallen asleep. His palms itched. The air grew hotter. Tiny flickers of orange light danced around his fingertips. He stared at them in disbelief, eyes wide with shock.

I'm doing this?

He moved his hand slowly, watching the embers swirl in sync with his fingers. It was like they were alive, responding to his every movement. He could feel the pull, like tugging on invisible threads.

Control it. Shape it.

He lifted his palm and willed the embers to gather. They obeyed. Slowly, the flickers of flame swirled together into a small, steady flame hovering an inch above his hand. It flickered with soft, orange light, its warmth sinking into his skin.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Not so useless now, huh?" he muttered, staring at the flame like it was a long-lost friend.

His focus sharpened. Make it bigger. He poured his thoughts into the fire, and it grew. Not fast. Not wild. Controlled. It danced higher, flickering like a torch in the night. His eyes reflected the glow, sharp and intense.

This is mine.

But as quickly as it came, it vanished. The flame sputtered out with a faint pop, leaving only smoke curling from his fingers. Victor cursed under his breath, clenching his fists. His breathing was heavier than it should've been, his body suddenly exhausted.

Too much, too fast.

He dropped to one knee, his heart pounding in his chest. Sweat dripped from his temple, sizzling when it hit the stone. His hands were still warm, faint trails of smoke rising from his fingers. This power… it's not just some trick. It's alive. It fights back.

He sat there, panting, staring at his hands. The glow of the Rift reflected in his eyes, bright and unyielding.

"You will burn away the old."

The words echoed again, clearer this time. It wasn't just a phrase. It was a command. No, more than that. It was a prophecy.

Victor's breath steadied. His eyes lifted to the Rift, his jaw set in a hard line. "If you think I'm just going to do what you want, you don't know me at all."

He stood slowly, rolling his shoulders as his muscles throbbed with dull aches. Every part of him felt heavier now. Like the air itself was pushing down on him. His gaze locked on the Rift, eyes sharp as broken glass.

"Burn away the old, huh?" He exhaled slowly, the heat still swirling just beneath his skin. "Then I'll burn you, too."

His eyes darted to the cavern around him. There were no visible paths leading out — just jagged walls of stone and the Rift hovering like a false sun in the center. But he wasn't trapped. Not yet. He'd find a way. He always did.

He took a slow, steady step forward, eyes scanning every inch of the area. No signs of Zhorul, no whispers in the fog. But he knew better than to trust stillness. It was the calm before the strike.

The ground rumbled.

Victor's eyes snapped to the Rift. It wasn't pulsing anymore. It was shaking. The swirls of energy spun faster, flashes of red and blue flickering like lightning trapped in a stormcloud. It's not right.

He backed away slowly, spearless, weaponless, but not powerless. His hands twitched at his sides, the heat already gathering in his palms. He didn't have full control yet, but he had enough to hurt something.

Cracks spread across the ground beneath the Rift, glowing with molten light. The hum grew louder, sharper, turning into a piercing whine that made his ears ache. Move. MOVE!

He ran.

The cavern behind him erupted. Heat and fire surged out like a dragon's roar, splitting the ground apart. A jagged chasm opened, spewing molten rock and smoke into the air. Victor threw himself forward, rolling to avoid the blast. He hit the ground hard, his arms stinging from the impact.

Get up. GET UP.

He scrambled to his feet, coughing on the thick, acrid smoke filling the air. His eyes burned, but he forced them open. The Rift was wild now, swirling faster than ever.

Then, something stepped out of it.

Not climbed. Not crawled. Stepped.

It was tall. Too tall. Its head nearly brushed the cavern ceiling. Its body was long and thin, its limbs like branches twisted into the shape of arms and legs. Its skin wasn't flesh. It was stone. No — obsidian. Smooth, black, and razor-sharp. Its eyes burned like twin suns, fiery and hollow at the same time.

It tilted its head toward Victor. No face. No mouth. Just those eyes, boring into him like twin torches.

Victor froze, his chest heaving with every breath. His body screamed at him to run, but he stayed rooted in place. His fingers twitched. Heat. It was stronger this time, more intense. The mark on his chest pulsed in time with the glow of the Rift.

Fight or flee, Victor. CHOOSE.

He grit his teeth, forcing down the fear that clawed at the edges of his mind. "You think I'm afraid of you?" His eyes narrowed, the glow of fire flickering to life in his hands. "I've faced worse."

The creature took a slow, deliberate step forward. The ground cracked beneath its foot, sparks flickering in its wake.

One step.

Victor's pulse quickened. Fire flickered up his arms. Not small embers this time. Flames. They licked his skin, wild and untamed. The glow of his mark grew brighter, burning hot against his chest.

Two steps.

He grinned, his eyes sharp as blades. "Come on, then," he growled, his hands wreathed in fire. "You wanted a catalyst? You got one."

The ground shook as the creature lunged. Obsidian claws swiped through the air, sharp and fast.

Victor roared, fire surging from his hands in a wave of blazing heat.

The blast of fire met the beast head-on. Flames crashed against obsidian, sparks flying like a forge in full swing. The creature's roar echoed through the cavern, but Victor didn't stop. He pushed. Harder. Hotter. Stronger.

His heart burned. His chest burned. Everything burned.

The last thing he saw was fire. Fire and the glow of his mark, burning brighter than the Rift itself.

Then—

Darkness.