Felis was thrown to the front of the room—the very room he had just arrived in. He had no idea how long he'd been carried. For all he knew, it could have been hours… or days. How could he tell? He'd been unconscious, teetering on the brink of death. He'd been healed—but not completely—so when he finally awoke, it felt like an eternity had passed. He had to assume he still had some leverage. Right?
He didn't have to wonder for long. The heat was unbearable, seeping into his skin, making it impossible to sit still. He wasn't shivering—just twitching, small, involuntary spasms he couldn't control.
Whoever stood before him could kill him with a thought. Felis didn't dare look up. He didn't even try to move. Instead, he spoke from the position he had been thrown into, his voice barely steady.
But it was hard to speak. The words stumbled out, clumsy and broken, like he was learning to talk all over again. He knew he had to keep it short—anything more, and he'd sound scared. Or stupid.
"What do you... want " his voice barely rose over a mad whisper
Felis hit the ground hard, tossed like cargo onto the floor of a room he didn't recognize.
He had no idea how long he'd been carried—hours, maybe days. Time blurred when you were unconscious and brushing the edge of death. He was healed now, but not completely. The pain still lingered like a dull echo in his bones, reminding him just how close he'd come to the end.
Wherever he was now, it was suffocatingly hot.
Thick, dry air clung to his skin, making him twitch—subtle, involuntary movements that weren't shivers, but something more primal. Discomfort. Instinctual unease.
He didn't dare look up.
Whoever stood in front of him radiated pressure—power. The kind that could kill with a thought. Felis felt it crawling over his skin like invisible fire, daring him to move.
He stayed where he had landed, face down, limbs heavy, throat dry.
His mind raced. There has to be something I can use... Leverage. A trade. Anything.
But thinking was hard. Speaking, even harder.
His tongue felt swollen, his mouth dry as sand. Words stumbled out clumsily, like he'd just relearned how to speak.
He kept it short. He had to.
He didn't want to sound terrified—though he absolutely was.
"What... do you want?" he rasped, his voice barely louder than a whisper, cracked and hoarse.
The silence that followed was more terrifying than any scream.
He had never been around an Evolved before. Not today, not yesterday—whenever that was. Time had become a blur. But this person… this being radiated power.
Something deep and primal told Felis exactly what he was facing: an emperor. He didn't need an introduction. He didn't need proof. Some part of him, some animal instinct, just knew—this was an apex predator.
And judging by the flames crackling in the air around him, this had to be one of the three major clan leaders. The thought alone made Felis's skin crawl.
But all doubt vanished the moment the man in front of him finally spoke.
"I'll let you go if you give me the artifact and keep the members of the gang you owe debt to off of you as a leader of Flame Heart I will guarantee you won't have to deal with gangs ever again
Felis's hands scrambled to his pockets. He patted himself down from head to toe—jacket, sides, inside lining.
Nothing.
The artifact was gone.
Did it fall out? Was it taken?
Panic prickled his skin like static. A bead of sweat traced down his temple as he stared at the floor, forcing himself to breathe slowly. He couldn't afford to panic. Not now. Not in front of this.
He had to bluff—hard.
He kept his head low, voice shaking but trying to sound indifferent.
"Wh-What makes you think I even have it?" he muttered, almost choking on his own words. "Maybe… maybe someone else does."
It was weak. He knew it.
The silence that followed felt heavy, like a mountain pressing down on his spine.
Then, the voice came.
Low. Cold. Unrelenting.
"Because I can feel the artifact's power surrounding you."
Felis flinched.
"You see, those of us who are evolved—or beyond—can see aether. And your pathetic attempt at lying only wastes my time."
The man's voice twisted with disdain as he stepped forward, the air warping around him.
"Just hand it over, and stop playing coy, you useless human."
For a brief second, his flames surged—violent and alive—flaring up around him like a living inferno. The heat in the room spiked instantly, the raw force of his presence slamming into Felis like a wall.
This wasn't just an Evolved.
This was something closer to a god.
And he was done playing games.
The flames raged hotter with every passing second, their fury fueled by Felis's silence.
Then—impact.
The pressure exploded outward, sending Felis flying across the room. His body hit the wall hard, skidding to the floor in a heap. Fire licked at his skin, blistering his arms and back. His clothes burned, the fabric melting into his flesh. The pain was searing, beyond anything he'd ever imagined.
He couldn't take it anymore.
A strangled, desperate cry escaped his throat, loud and broken.
"I don't have it!" he screamed, his voice raw—more from the heat than from fear.
The flames abruptly died down.
But Felis didn't stop coughing. Smoke had filled his lungs, and each breath came like shards of glass.
One of the guards moved quickly, raising a hand. A shimmering sphere of water surrounded Felis, cooling his burns and cutting off the choking air. Relief swept over him, but only for a moment.
Because then—another surge.
A massive heat wave exploded from the center of the room, melting the walls, distorting the floor, cracking the very foundation. The evolved man roared, his voice shaking the chamber.
"SEND HIM TO ONE OF THE RIFTERS THAT'S ABOUT TO RIFT!"
His voice echoed like a death sentence.
"FORCE HIM TO RIFT!"
Felis's body convulsed from the sudden pressure. His ears rang. His vision blurred.
The heat was unbearable, all-consuming. Reality bent around him, colors bleeding together. And then—blackness.
Felis passed out once again, this time with no clue if he'd ever wake up… or where he'd be if he did.