The forest did not become quieter. But the flame has changed. He could feel it.
After absorbing the first creature, the world seemed to sparkle with new shades. He began to "see" — not with his eyes, but through other waves: energy, heat, rhythms of life.
Every tree was now vibrating in his perception. Every crack in the bark is like a scar on the skin of a living being. Even the ice beneath the snow shimmered with a faint echo of ancient cold.
He was not just a sentient being of the world. And this world... was breathing.
[Progress: 2.5%]
Next threshold: 6,500 energy units.
Form: Astral Flame (Origin)
Mode: Passive Absorption – Active
Unblocked:
(The ability allows you to slowly extract energy from objects with residual mana in close contact.)
The system didn't just exist—it grew with him. Alive? Artificial? He didn't know. But she was a part of him.
The interface, like the voice of silence, revealed more to him from time to time. Sometimes, only if he was "thinking" in the right direction. A question, and a flash of an answer. That's how he learned.
The idle system? A system without actions. Natural evolution through presence, survival, absorption. He shouldn't have won. He had to live long enough to become stronger.
He didn't need swords. He didn't need magic, not yet.He is a form of greed by nature itself. An emptiness that fills itself.
He drifted low above the ground, like a quivering bundle of ethereal light.
Under the roots of the trees, he found remnants of life — rotting berries, magical spores, corpses of small animals. Not fighting, not hunting, but simply being present, he drew in scraps of energy.
Consumed: 7 units. from moss spores.
Consumed: 3 lemming bones.
Consumed: 1 unit from a half-rotted root.
Slowly but surely, his core was strengthening. It was barely noticeable, but he could feel it. His flames grew thicker, his colors brighter.
At some point, he started hearing voices.
Not in words. Not by sound. And the thoughts that weren't his. They hung in the air like the echo of old prayers, forgotten and burned.
"... the flame will return, and the light will dry up the night..."
"... filth will burn the flesh, but not the spirit..."
"... the fire of the Raven is the messenger of the Fall..."
He shuddered. These phrases... they were in the very air. Spells? Curses?
He sank into the shadow of an ancient tree stump, which barely had the outlines of a runic inscription. Three symbols cut in a circle. Even the dead tree exuded a faint aura.
[Activation: A Fragment Of Runic Circle I Has Been Found]
Analysis…
Rune (Naudiz) — Need, survival, inner darkness.
Rune (Jera) — Time, harvest, inevitable growth.
Rune (Dagaz) — Awakening, transition, new look.
[Received: +2% of the passive absorption rate in the area of effect.]
The flame was trembling. Were those runes... about him? Or was he part of an ancient plan?
He didn't know who had summoned him. But everything in this forest seemed to be waiting for him.
He soon found a new trail. A faint stream of energy went deep into the forest, as if someone or something was carrying the magic power away.
He followed him. The path led to a black ravine where dead water seeped between the rocks. Above it is a skeleton overgrown with moss and strewn with birds without eyes.
There was still a crystal fragment glowing in his chest.
[Source discovered: Mana core fragment. Category: Relic.]
Absorption is not possible — the level is insufficient.
He would have burned with frustration if he could. But I realized that there are levels, there are limitations, there are barriers that can only be overcome by growth.
He was not alone in this world. But he was the primary one. Raw. Clean. And while others were fighting for power, he was just growing.
Gradually. Relentlessly. Absorbing everything you can.
Intermediate Status:
Form: Astral Flame
The progress of evolution: 3.8%
Unlocked:
Absorbing Touch I
Passive extraction (small)
Runic Zone Bonus: +2% Absorption
Next stage of evolution (6,500 energy):
→ Form: Living Flame (access to variable temperature, mild thermal shock and targeted burning)
The night was gathering. But the flame burned brighter. He didn't know who he was. I didn't know who I was going to become. But instinct—or will? — I pushed him forward.
There was no name or destiny for him in this world.
But everything about him said the same thing.:
I will be the fire that burns the darkness.
Night did not come in these lands — she lived here all the time.
Darkness was not a change of day, it was its essence.
He—the flame—drifted deeper into the thicket, to where even the dead trees began to lean towards each other, as if whispering curses into the charred crowns.
And with every meter, the air was getting... thicker. Not physically. Magically. Thick with memories.
The system didn't say anything. But he felt: this place is older than much of what he has touched before. The earth itself kept a memory here.
Soon he reached the ruins, a stone semicircle embedded in moss and bone dust. Something between a ritual site and a place of execution.
There were scratches on one of the slabs, as if the claws of a huge bird had left a mark in the granite. And under them — the carving.
Not words. Signs.
[ᚠᚱᚨᚾ - FRAN — Ashes ]
[ᛁᚴᛁᛚᚨ - IKILA - Eyes of the sky ]
[ ᚱᚨᚢᚨᚾ - RAVAN — He who pecks at the sun ]
He didn't understand the language, but a call flared up inside him. Not a voice, but a feeling of recognition, as if somewhere in forgotten dreams he had already heard a name:
"Ravan..."
The ashen god. The one who arrives before the fire falls. The one who eats the light, but leaves... a spark.
He froze. Something was moving somewhere nearby. Not a beast. Not a spirit.
Conscience. Murky, low, but thinking.
[Scan...]