Chapter 7: What Say You… Little Flame?

‘Arafel…’

The name echoed in the hollow of her mind, heavy with syllables. ‘Of The Seven Unholy.’ She turned it over, testing its weight. It had the ring of something ancient, something that should inspire trembling and awe.

Instead, it pinged a different association entirely.

‘Hmm. Why does that sound like a band name? Like something from those posters I used to plaster all over my bedroom walls.’

The thought was involuntary, a reflex born from a lifetime of late-night internet dives and music video marathons. She remembered them vividly, five impossibly handsome men, each with perfectly tousled hair and choreographed smolders. Their abs had been sculpted by the gods themselves, arranged in symmetrical perfection that made even marble statues look undercooked. She’d been a fanatic. The kind of fan who knew their birthdays, their blood types, the exact date of their debut single. She’d spent her entire paychecks on concert tickets and lightsticks shaped like the stars.

‘Gosh… those days. I miss them a lot.’

A soft, wistful sigh brushed through her consciousness, carrying the ghost of glittering arena lights and the roar of fifty thousand screaming voices.

Then reality crashed back.
She was a flaming bug. In a dungeon. Speaking, well, thinking at an entity so powerful it couldn’t even sneeze without potentially erasing her from existence. An entity that had just, very clearly, heard every single one of those thoughts.

‘Err… Arafel is a nice name!’ Her mental voice pitched upward into something desperate and cheerful. ‘A very dignified, powerful, totally-not-reminding-me-of-a-K-pop-boyband name! I-I’m Jessica, by the way. You can call me Jessica! Hehe!’

The laugh was a masterpiece of disgraceful, forced cheerfulness.

A long, weighted pause.

“Sigh…” The exhalation was deep, resonant, and carried the profound weariness of something that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations and now found itself saddled with this. “Kids.” Arafel mumbled to himself, the words leaking into the shared thought-space. “I am definitely too old for all of this.”

The self-pity in his tone was so palpable, so genuine, that Jessica almost felt a pang of sympathy. Almost.

“Anyways…” Arafel rallied, his tone shifting to something more practical. “Why do you not hurry and burn that bone? Your vitality seems… critically diminished. It would be a shame to survive my hospitality only to expire on the floor, little Jessica.”

Jessica didn’t answer immediately. A screen had materialized before her, crisp and blessedly uncorrupted. The system was back.

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/4%] >>

‘Four percent.’ The number was a cold splash of water. ‘I’m literally walking, hovering consciously into the afterlife of flames right now.’ This was the lowest her vitality had ever been. Lower than the fall, lower than the drowning, lower than the moment she’d first sparked to life on that discarded torch. The edge was right there.

The realization injected pure adrenaline into her fading form. ‘Y-yes! I’ll do it right now!’

She didn’t walk. She launched. A frantic, desperate Leap-boing! carried her through the air, her small, flaming locust body arcing down to land squarely on the massive bone fragment. It was cool beneath her feet, but she could feel the latent power within it, a deep reservoir of ancient vitality waiting to be tapped.

She closed her compound eyes. Her mental focus narrowed to a single point, a single intent. [Burn]

For a heartbeat, nothing. Then, a faint warmth spread from where her tiny feet touched the pale surface. It grew, a gentle heat that seeped into the bone, awakening something dormant. The warmth became a glow, the glow became a spark. The spark caught.

Vroom!!

The bone ignited. Not with her usual sputtering, desperate flame, but with a clean, hungry fire that spread in steady, concentric rings. It was beautiful. It was feeding her.

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/5%] (+5) –> [HP/10%] >>

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/10%] (+10) –> [HP/20%] >>

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/20%] (+10) –> [HP/30%] >>

Each notification was a pulse of relief. The grey fog at the edges of her vision receded. The heaviness in her limbs dissolved. The flame aura around her body, which had been a weak, guttering thing, began to roar, a healthy, vibrant corona of blue and orange.

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/70%] (+10) –> [HP/80%] >>

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/80%] (+10) –> [HP/90%] >>

<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/90%] (+10) –> [HP/100%] >>

‘Sigh…’ The exhalation was pure, profound satisfaction. Every fiber of her borrowed body felt… full. Alive. Powerful, even.

She pushed off from the burning bone, leaping lightly to the ashen brick floor beside it. The bone continued to burn behind her, wreathed in her borrowed flames, a small, silent pyre in the vast, dark chamber.

<< FULL VITALITY ACHIEVED. BODY CONDITION: OPTIMAL. >>

She felt optimal. She felt like she could take on a Mud Wolf. Maybe two. Okay, maybe not. But she felt good.

‘Thank you. Very much, old gramps.’ The words came from somewhere genuine, stripped of sarcasm and panic. ‘This… this really means a lot. I mean it.’

“Kukuku…” Arafel’s chuckle was warm, almost paternal. “It is but a small thing. A fragment of a fragment. Do not let it swell your head.” A pause. “And besides… that bone will not burn through quickly. It will take considerable time and repeated use before it is fully consumed. You would be wise to keep it with you.”

Jessica, already in the process of turning away, stopped. Her mental brow furrowed as she rotated back toward the burning bone. ‘But it’s already burnt, so it won’t be useful anym—’

The thought died.

She stared.

The bone, which should have been a blackened, crumbling husk, sat serenely in the heart of her flames. It wasn’t just intact. It was pristine. The pale surface gleamed, smooth and unmarred, as if the fire licking hungrily at its surface was nothing more than a gentle, warm bath. Not a single crack. Not the faintest smudge of carbon.

‘Flaming HELL!!’ The curse was pure, reverent shock. ‘It wasn’t even damaged! Not a scratch!’

“Kukuku… As it originates from me, why would it be anything less than exceptional?” Arafel’s mental voice swelled with a pride so vast and ancient it practically creaked. “Greatness begets greatness, little flame.”

‘It really is great,’ Jessica breathed, her mental eyes wide and sparkling. Then, cautiously, hopefully: ‘Do you… really mean I can keep it? For later?’

A long, slow exhalation of chain-rattling air.

“Sigh… Yes. Yes, I have already said this. The bone will not be consumed easily. Keep it. Use it when the abyss stares back at you.” He was already sounding slightly exasperated, the paternal warmth giving way to the weary resignation of someone who had just realized they’d adopted a particularly persistent stray. “It is yours. Now please, cease looking at me with those… those *sparkling* mental eyes of yours.”

Before the final syllable of his thought had fully formed, Jessica had already launched. Her flaming locust body arced through the stale air and landed squarely on the pristine, still-burning bone.

Poof!

The bone vanished.

A new line appeared in her status, nestled neatly in its proper category.

[Item Received: [Bone Of ARAFEL]]

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

‘Hehehe.’ The giggle was soft, self-satisfied, and utterly without shame. She surveyed her status screen like a miser counting gold.

[STATUS]

+

Name: Jessica

Level: 2 [Infant Rank]

Exp(Fragnet): [——[70%]—100%]

Title: None

Species: Flame

Species Possessed: Cave Locust [Hp/99%]

Rank: [Infant], Cave Locust [Infant]

Magic Cores: [You Are Currently An Idea], Cave Locust [1/1]

Items: [Bone Of ARAFEL]

Echoes: None

Innate Abilities: [Possess] [Spark Instinct]

Abilities: Unique Skill [Blabber Mouth], Flame Specific Skill [Burning] [Life Multiplier(By Snorting)], Cave Locust Skill [Flame Acid Ball]

+

‘Hehehe…’ The giggle was uncontrollable, a bubble of pure, childish glee. Full HP. A emergency battery in her pocket. And still alive. For the first time in four days, things felt… good. Manageable. Hopeful, even.

The glee earned another deep, long-suffering sigh from the darkness.

Eventually, the giggles subsided. Jessica settled near the center of the chamber, not too close to the chained darkness, but not cowering at the entrance either. She had questions. And, strangely, she wanted to talk. Not to interrogate, not to beg. Just… talk.

So she did. She told him about her old life. The cramped apartment, the dead-end job, the streaming dream that never quite caught fire. She told him about Mark and Elsa, about the truck and the little girl in the yellow dress. She told him about waking up as a dying spark on a damp torch, about the wolves and the mushrooms and the terrifying plummet into the black water. She told him about the system’s merciless teasing and the lonely, beautiful moment with the mud wolf pup.

The more she spoke, the more Arafel listened. His presence, which had been a crushing weight, became something else, a patient, focused attention. He asked no questions, offered no judgments. He simply… absorbed her story, letting it fill the vast, silent chamber that had held only his own thoughts for so long.

Hours passed. The torches guttered and relit themselves. The chamber seemed to be at peace with the calmness. And eventually, the conversation drifted from her past to her present predicament.

“There are three regions in this nightmare realm,” Arafel began, his tone shifting to something instructional. “The first, the area you traversed to reach me is called ‘The Damp Labyrinth.’ It is the nursery tier. Everything there is… young. Learning. You survived it, which is more than most can claim.”

Jessica felt a small, grudging pride.

“The second region is ‘The Swamp Zone.’”

Her pride evaporated.

“Every span of that domain is saturated with black water. And the water itself… is a living entity. A single, vast consciousness, its source coiled at the heart of the subterranean river. It is protected, of course. A large monster dwells in the depths, bound to the water’s will.”

A pause. Then, with genuine, ancient enthusiasm:

“Is it not fascinating, little Jessica? An entire ecosystem born from a single, sentient organism?”

Jessica stared into the darkness where she imagined Arafel’s immense, chained form resided. Her mental expression was flat.

‘Fascinating.’ She let the word hang. ‘Heh. Fascinating.’ A dry, humorless laugh. ‘If that’s your definition of ‘fascinating,’ old gramps, I’m almost afraid to ask what your definition of ‘dangerous’ is. Because that? That is a definition of a ‘NO GO’ for me. Flaming HELL!! Why would I ever, in any conceivable timeline, willingly go there?’

“Ahem.”