Samaras stared at the pulsing crystal, his golden eyes reflecting its crimson glow. The voice in his head lingered like an echo, a mechanical whisper that sent a chill through his scales despite the warming air. "Initialization Imminent. Curse Active." What did it mean? Was this another layer of the gods' torment, a trap designed to mock his weakened state? He hesitated, claws hovering inches from the artifact's
surface. The runes etched into it seemed to shift, twisting like serpents in
flame, beckoning him closer. Part of him wanted to smash it, to deny whatever
game this was, but the hunger, the deep, insistent pull for power, overrode his
caution. He needed strength to escape this pit, to reclaim what was stolen.
With a low growl, he pressed forward, but before his talon could touch it, a skittering noise erupted from the shadows behind him.
He whipped around, instincts flaring. The cave's tunnels branched out like veins in rock, dark and winding, and from one of them came the sound again, multiple legs scraping against stone, rapid and purposeful. Predators. Samaras's body tensed, his stubby wings flaring slightly, as he backed away from the crystal, positioning himself in the alcove's center.
The essence from his earlier kills still thrummed in his veins, sharpening his
senses. He could smell them now: an acrid, chitinous odor, like rotting bark mixed with venom. Spider-like creatures, larger than the rodents, their forms
emerging from the gloom.
There were four of them, each the size of a small dog, with bulbous bodies covered in bristly hairs that quivered in the faint light. Their eyes, clusters of black beads, glinted with mindless hunger, mandibles clicking as they advanced. Webs dangled from their abdomens, sticky threads already trailing behind them, ready to ensnare. Samaras had no time to ponder the artifact; survival demanded his full attention. He crouched low, tail lashing, preparing for the assault.
The first spider lunged, leaping with surprising speed, its front legs extended like spears. Samaras dodged to the side, the movement awkward in his whelp form but fueled by raw instinct. The creature's legs slammed into the stone where he had stood, cracking the floor with a sharp report. He countered immediately, jaws snapping forward to clamp onto one of its limbs. The exoskeleton crunched under his teeth, a satisfying snap-like breaking dry twigs, and viscous blood oozed out thick, sticky, and foul-tasting, like tar mixed with acid. The spider screeched, a piercing sound that reverberated through the cave, thrashing wildly as Samaras shook his head, tearing the leg free in a spray of ichor that splattered his face and chest.
The pain from the bite must have enraged the others, for they swarmed in unison. One shot a web strand from its spinnerets, the silky thread whipping through the air like a lasso. Samaras rolled aside, the web hitting the wall with a wet slap, adhering instantly. He felt the pull of it as it grazed his tail, sticky fibers clinging, but he yanked free with a snarl. Another spider skittered overhead, using the cave's uneven ceiling to drop down from above. He twisted, his claws raking across its underbelly. The strike opened a gash, more of that oozy blood pouring out in a sluggish cascade, dripping onto the floor where it hissed faintly against the stone.
Adrenaline surged through him, mixing with the essence from his previous meal. His breaths came in hot puffs, and as he fought, that deeper urge stirred again the primal lust, awakening like a fire in his core. It wasn't just the thrill of the kill; it was something more visceral, a drive to dominate, to claim victory not only in blood but also in body. In his fragmented memories, he saw echoes of it: conquests where battles ended in heated embraces, enemies turned to willing thralls under his command. Here, amid the gore, it teased him, a heat building in his loins that he pushed aside. Focus on the fight, he told himself. But the thought lingered: strength would bring more than survival; it would bring pleasure and power over others.
The wounded spider retreated, dragging its mangled leg, but the third charged head-on, mandibles wide. Samaras met it with a ferocious bite, his jaws closing around its head. The exoskeleton shattered with a crunch, brains and fluid exploding in a messy burst that coated his maw.
The creature's body convulsed, legs flailing wildly before going limp. He spat out the remains, the bitter taste lingering, but the essence flowed in a
stronger rush this time, warming his limbs, making his movements sharper.
The last spider, perhaps sensing the tide turning, attempted a retreat, scuttling back toward the tunnel. But Samaras wouldn't allow it. He pounced, landing on its back with all his weight. Claws dug into the hairy carapace, piercing through with pops of breaking shell. Blood oozed viscous and sticky, seeping between his talons as he tore downward, exposing the soft innards beneath. The spider bucked, trying to throw him off, but he held firm, his tail wrapping around one leg for leverage. With a final, savage twist, he ripped open its abdomen, guts spilling in a steaming, foul-smelling pile. The creature collapsed, twitching in its death throes.
Panting heavily, Samaras stood amid the carnage. The alcove reeked of death, blood, and ichor pooling on the floor, mixing into a slick slurry that reflected the fungi's green glow. Bits of exoskeleton crunched under his feet as he stepped back, surveying his work.
Four kills, each more efficient than the last. The essence buzzed within him, a
vibrant energy that pushed back the weakness of his rebirth. But that lustful instinct... it awakened further now, stirred by the dominance of the hunt. He
imagined it fully realized: not just slaying foes, but bending survivors to his
will, their bodies yielding in ecstasy as he claimed them. A low rumble escaped
his throat, half growl, half something more primal. Soon, he promised himself.
Strength first.
His gaze returned to the crystal. The fight had drawn him away, but now, with the threats silenced, he approached again. The glow had intensified, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The runes danced, almost inviting. He reached out, ignoring the lingering sting from the spiders' blood on his scales. His claw touched the surface, cool at first, then searing hot, like plunging into molten rock. Pain lanced through him, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he grasped it fully, yanking the artifact free from the wall with a crack of stone. The crystal shattered in his grip, shards dissolving into red mist that swirled around him, seeping into his pores. His vision blurred, and that voice returned, louder, clearer:
"Eternal Flame
System Activating. Host: Samaras. Curse Integration Complete."
What? Samaras staggered, the mist coalescing in his mind's eye as glowing text, like inscriptions on ancient scrolls.
[Welcome to the Eternal Flame System. You have
been selected as the vessel for primal evolution. Due to the Divine Curse, your starting parameters are restricted. Gather Flame Sparks to unlock your
potential.]
A tutorial ping followed, panels unfolding in
his thoughts:
[Flame Sparks: Currency for growth. Earned
through conquests, kills, bonds, and dominions. Current Sparks: 0.]
[Abilities Locked: Flame Breath (Basic) –
Requires 5 Sparks. Dragon's Whisper (Hypnotic Voice) – Requires 10 Sparks. More
to unlock with levels.]
[Curse Effect: Memory Veil – Fragments reveal
with progress. Power Cap – Break seals through evolutions.]
Samaras blinked, the information overwhelming yet intuitive. A system? Imposed by the gods, or something older? It felt like
a tool, a path to reclaim his might. But the curse twisted it, no doubt a
double-edged flame.
As the mist faded, he felt a subtle shift, his body warmer, ready. One of the spider corpses lay nearby, its blood still fresh. Testing, he focused, willing the essence to convert. A notification pinged:
[Kill Processed. Flame Sparks: +5. Greater
Threats Approach. Prepare.]
The words hung in his mind, a warning and a
promise. The cave felt smaller now, the tunnels calling him deeper into
Carcosa's mysteries. Threats loomed, but so did power. With a final glance at
the shattered crystal's remnants, Samaras pressed on, the hunt truly beginning.