Chapter 288
Meanwhile (2)
Blaze made a face as he said, "isn't it obvious, I got my ass beat up," he said as he leaned in for a kiss.
But Ari placed a hand on his chest and stopped him, her brows sewing together as her eyes sharpened. "No, not that… getting beat up is not that much of a big deal…" she murmured, her voice low and oddly steely, "it's something else… I can see it in your eyes."
Blaze licked his lips nervously, a small, almost twitching motion, and forced out, "that's because it was one hell of an ass beating this time!" He threw his head back and cackled loudly, almost theatrically, as if volume alone could drown out whatever she was trying to peel out of him.
But Ari didn't break her stare. She waited—patiently—until his laughter slowly died in the air, sinking into an awkward quiet.
Then she said, firmly, almost cutting through the silence, "No… it's more than that." Her gaze seemed to dig into him, reading him like a familiar script. "You look… defeated, Blaze." Her words were soft but they crashed into him like a blow.
Blaze's grin twitched, then faltered.
"But that's impossible…" she whispered. There was no arrogance in her tone—only certainty. "Unless…"
Her eyes widened, the change was immediate and instinctive, her breath catching for half a second.
"Unless your concept has been injured...Blaze... Are you... Scared?"
Her words hung in the air like a dropped bomb.
To solidify a concept, you must practice it. You must embody it again and again until it becomes part of your core, and your core becomes part of it.
This wasn't theory—it was the foundation of an ascender's existence.
Repetition, immersion, belief. Over and over until the concept stopped being something you used and became something you were.
If you doubted your concept—or worse, failed to understand it fully—your path methods would weaken. They would lose clarity. And in the worst-case scenario…
death.
The understanding in your core becomes twisted… warped by contradiction. It collapses in on itself, the very structure of your mind shaking under the weight of something it cannot reconcile. A belief that had once been absolute suddenly proven incomplete, unstable… or outright wrong. And when that happens—when the concept truly buckles—your core can rupture.
And if the core ruptures… the brain goes with it.
So once someone follows a concept or path, it becomes sacred. It's important not to doubt. Not to hesitate. Not to allow the possibility of being proven… "wrong."
This was what Ari was getting at when she described his concept as "injured."
Her voice hadn't risen. Her expression hadn't twisted into panic.
But there was weight behind her words, a heaviness that came from someone who understood exactly how fatal this could become.
And Blaze… Blaze knew it too.
This wasn't a small scratch on his confidence.This was a crack running through the foundation of who he was.
This was a massive risk.
And if not resolved—if even a fragment of doubt remained lodged inside him—Blaze could potentially die.
Blaze took a second before shaking his head. He opened his mouth, ready to speak whatever explanation he had—when ari's voice sliced through the air.
Her words were dripping with rage and malice, every syllable stained intent. Her eyes—normally soft, sultry and teasing—now bore into his like two molten points of accusation.
"Who was it."
It wasn't a question. It was a demand.
Blaze's expression wavered. For a moment he looked… dazed, like the sound of her voice alone had wrapped around his mind and tugged him forward. His lips parted, and for a heartbeat it looked like the truth was going to fall out whether he wanted it to or not.
"It was—ow."
A sharp snap of pain exploded on the tip of his tongue—he had managed to bite it. The metallic taste of blood immediately filled his mouth. A thin red line escaped the corner of his lips.
He winced and looked at her with a mixture of frustration and helplessness, the kind only someone in love could wear so openly.
"Ari, I've said not to do that."
The words came out half-pleading, half-scolding. He wasn't talking about the question—he was talking about her use of her path methods on his mind that made his mouth move before he could think.
Ari clearly wanted to protest again—her lips parted but Blaze's tone didn't leave her much room to push back.
Still, the fight in her didn't disappear as she glared at him with a frustrated kind of fear.
"But look at you…" she finally managed, her voice trembling between anger and worry. "You look like a mess. Whoever did this must be made to suffer. They have to. I won't just stand here and do nothing, Blaze."
But Blaze only let out a low breath, then shook his head. "No, they mustn't."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm enough to make her flinch.
"I was at fault anyway. I was the reason it even happened. This is something I have to take on the chin."
Ari's fingers tightened on his chest. "I…"
He cut her off with a look—it was strangely gentle despite the bruises shadowing his face.
"And I hope you don't investigate this," he said quietly, almost like a plea, "I hope you can promise me."
Ari stayed silent as Blaze continued to press her, his voice nudging at her patience. "Come on, Ari, do this for me… Ari?"
She tightened her lips, pushing them together in a way that made them jut out like a squeezed duck, holding the frustration in her cheeks before she finally let it out in a sharp breath. "Alright! Alright! Fine… I won't. Are you happy now?"
Blaze let out a low, satisfied cackle as he slipped his hands around her waist. His palms settled naturally along her curves, drawing her a little closer as he met her gaze with a look that made his intentions painfully obvious. "Really happy."
Ari sucked her teeth and snapped her head to the side, refusing to meet his eyes, clearly unimpressed and even more clearly not pleased the situation.
Yet the moment she turned her head, she suddenly felt his arms scoop under her. Before she could form the words rising in her throat, her body lifted off the ground. A small, startled breath escaped her just as she felt herself lowered gently onto the bed.
Blaze leaned close, his breath brushing her ear, his voice dropping into a whisper. "But you can make me really, really happy…"
There were a few seconds of stillness before a soft giggle slipped out of her, the sound was light and almost mischievous.
In one sudden motion she wrapped her legs around him, shifting her weight with ease as she twisted her hips and pulled herself upward. With a gentle but confident maneuver she worked her way on top of him, settling comfortably as she placed a palm flat on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand.
Blaze could feel his blood pumping hard as the playful expression on her face was teasing and bold. "I see you still got a pair, to be so cheeky," she said, her tone lilting, almost daring him to deny it.
His hands slid instinctively to her waist, his fingers brushing along her sides as the thin sleeping gown began to shift. The fabric slid slowly down with the movement, loosening and falling away just enough to expose more of her skin.
She leaned in—close enough that he could feel her breath against his lips—and pressed a deep kiss onto his mouth, soft at first, then sinking into something fuller and more consuming.
…
Meanwhile, as all of this was happening behind closed doors, startled reactions rippled through a different part of the building. Heads turned, voices rose, and a chorus of surprised shouts broke out as people pointed toward a certain individual.
This was, naturally, IAM.