It was too hot.
Like sinking into a vat of boiling oil—no, hotter than that.
Like drowning in a molten sea with no surface to break through.
The sensation wasn't just on her skin; it was in her bones, her blood, even her thoughts.
It gnawed at every inch of her being.
There was no escaping it.
Stacia couldn't scream.
Her throat felt sealed by the heat, her voice devoured before it could even form.
Her vision blurred as her body became the center of the inferno.
Everything inside her, the mana she once thought familiar—reliable—now turned on her like a beast finally let loose.
This wasn't the warmth she once felt comforted by.
No, this was an old flame she thought she had long since learned to control—an ancient, primal fire now running wild, unchained.
Ever since her mana had been aligned with fire, she had always believed the flames were a reflection of herself.
Passionate, untamed, but manageable. A friend. A partner. A strength.
She was wrong.
