The ashlands were never still. Zeke had learned this in the short time since his awakening. The world shifted and groaned, a realm alive with hidden dangers. Each vibration through the ground was a reminder that he was not alone, and that not all things scuttled like fire-mites or drifted like ash-motes. Some were larger. Some were hunters.
He crawled along the fringe of a ridge, his jellylike body dragging sluggishly through the soot. The ashstream had dwindled, leaving him to ration what little moisture he had absorbed. Hunger pressed again, though dulled by his recent growth. He needed more, but instinct told him that the deeper he went, the greater the risk.
That warning arrived sooner than expected.
A shadow fell across him. Not cast by the haze-choked sky, but from something massive sliding over the ridge. The ground trembled faintly as claws scraped stone. A hiss, low and guttural, broke the heavy silence. Zeke's awareness quivered. He extended his senses and caught the impression: scales, heat, hunger. A predator, and far stronger than any he had encountered.
It came into view—volcanic salamander. Its body glistened with heat, its hide glowing faintly as though ember veins pulsed beneath the scales. Ash slid off its broad back as it prowled, eyes glowing red like molten pits. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air.
And it tasted him.
The salamander's head snapped toward him. In an instant, it lunged. Zeke flinched back, spreading wide in panic. Claws tore across the ash where he had been. Heat blasted over him as its breath steamed against his body. His substance sizzled, edges shriveling as though baked in a furnace. Agony flared—not in flesh, but in the unraveling of his very form.
"Too strong—!"
Instinct screamed. His body recoiled, but the salamander struck again, jaws opening with a hiss. Fire surged inside its throat, a molten glow gathering. The blast came—searing, unbearable flame washing over him. His body convulsed, shrieking silently as he boiled under the heat. Pieces of him hissed into vapor, scattering across the ground.
The slime that was Zeke bubbled and thinned, his edges turning brittle. He could feel his core—his essence—laid bare, exposed to the flames. If that fire reached it, there would be nothing left. He would end here, burned out like nothing more than spilled oil.
But within that terror came instinct—an echo of the skill he had used before. He lunged, not away but forward. He flung part of himself into the salamander's throat, clinging desperately to the torrent of fire. The System pulsed.
[Skill Activated: Assimilate]
Heat and mana surged into him. The flame resisted, wild and raging, but it bled into his core. For a heartbeat, it felt like swallowing the sun. Agony and ecstasy mingled, tearing him apart even as it rebuilt him. The salamander thrashed, choking as its own fire stuttered. Zeke clung desperately, devouring the flame. His core pulsed violently.
[Assimilate Lv.1 → Lv.2]
The salamander reared back, hacking and thrashing. Its maw slammed shut, cutting off the flame. Zeke released his grip, rolling away in tatters. His body steamed, ragged and thin, half his mass gone to heat. Yet his core pulsed brighter than ever. Inside him, molten fire swirled, unstable but present. A trace of its essence had become his own.
The salamander hissed furiously, pawing at its throat. Zeke trembled, every instinct screaming to flee. He had no strength to fight, but the beast was wounded, startled by the strange resistance. After a long, tense moment, it snarled and retreated, slinking back into the haze. Ash hissed where its body passed, leaving scorched tracks. Zeke was left alone, trembling in the silence.
He collapsed beside a jagged rock, pulling his form in tight. Pain still rippled through him, every motion sluggish. But within that pain burned power. Fire. He felt it coil inside him, raw and volatile. The hunger that had defined him dulled in the presence of it, as though the flame itself fed him. He was terrified by it, yet drawn to it all the same.
"…I… survived."
The thought rang hollow. He had faced death, his body unraveling under fire, and only instinct had saved him. If not for Assimilate, he would have been nothing more than ash. The memory seared into him—the sight of the salamander, the heat of its flame, the feeling of devouring that very fire. It was monstrous. It was wrong. But it was his.
He lingered in that thought, quivering. The fire essence flickered inside him, but it was not under his control. It lashed unpredictably, burning at the edges of his form, threatening to consume him from within. He wrestled with it, compressing around it instinctively, trying to contain it. His will strained, but slowly, he stabilized the flame into a faint ember. His first stolen power.
The System stirred once more, cold and impartial.
[Level Up: 3 → 4]
Energy pulsed through him, knitting some of the damage, bolstering his shrunken form. His awareness cleared slightly. He dragged himself closer to the ashstream, absorbing what moisture remained to stabilize. The flame inside him pulsed faintly, waiting. He could feel it now, like an ember coiled in the depths of his core. Not yet a weapon, not yet control—but possibility.
For a time, he lay there, drinking essence from the stream, letting the ash cool his frayed body. His awareness stretched thin, replaying the battle. The salamander had been nothing like fire-mites or micro-organisms. It was willful, dangerous, and far above him. Yet he had not perished. He had stolen from it.
He remembered the fire's taste—the way it seared even as it empowered. He remembered the terror of seeing his core almost exposed. And above all, he remembered the thrill: I devoured fire itself.
It was intoxicating. It was horrifying.And it was the only path forward.
Zeke's awareness pulsed faintly. This was the law of the ashlands. Prey that endured became predators. He was still small, fragile, barely learning to crawl. But he had begun the climb.
The world was not passive. It was hostile. And predators stalked every shadow. If he faltered, if he failed to grow, he would end as little more than prey. The salamander had taught him that lesson.
But he had also stolen something from it. Fire.
And fire was a beginning.
System Update
Status
Name: Ezekiel Ashbourne
Race: Prime Slime (Unevolved)
Level: 3 → 4
Affinity: None (absorptive state)
Stats
STR: 2
AGI: 2
VIT: 4 → 5
WIL: 3
RES: 2
MNA: 8 → 11
CTL: 1
Skills
Active Skills:
Split (Lv.1): Divide body into fragments; fragments are weaker and drain stamina.
Assimilate (Lv.1 → Lv.2): Absorb weak matter or energy to recover energy; chance to retain minor traits. Strengthened to absorb elemental essence directly.
Passive Skills:
Amorphous Body (Lv.1): Immune to blunt trauma, flexible morphology.