[Location: Penalty Zone]
And in the pulse of heat, sand, and molten fury, I realised something terrifying…
It can breathe fire.
Not just a little puff, not some pathetic torch-flame. No—this was a furnace, a volcanic eruption housed inside a throat the size of a house, and I was dangling from its chin like an idiot who had just volunteered to be the main course.
The glow in its gullet deepened, shifting from dull ember-orange to a white-hot incandescence that painted the desert night like a sunrise. Heat shimmered across the sand, warping the stars above, bending the very air until it looked like the heavens themselves were melting.
I coughed, choking on the air, because it wasn't air anymore—it was molten breath, each inhale like dragging razors down my throat. My lungs screamed, blistering on the inside, and every survival instinct in me screamed louder than ever before. Jump off. Run. Crawl. Die in the sand, but don't stay here.
