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File #666: The Mad God Who [Redacted]

Tags: [Progression] [Litrpg] [Modern Fantasy] [SCP Inspired] The GRA classifies him as File #666, an anomaly locked away and monitored under the highest security, along with many other system-"blessed" humans, and monsters from other worlds. Nathan is no ordinary detainee. Within him lies a Gate, a link to realms of untamed power and cosmic terror. These aren’t just alternate dimensions—they’re living entities, each realm a source of unimaginable strength and unspeakable horrors. With every forced descent into these hostile realms, Nathan edges closer to a power that might burn him alive...or rebirth him as something the GRA can’t contain. The question isn’t if he’ll survive. It’s what he’ll become when he comes out of these dimensions. +++ I am writing this due to people's request. Shit starts getting picked up by around 25 - 30.

Norobo · Fantasie
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32 Chs

On the Verge of Breakthrough

Nathan could feel it: the breakthrough was close, hovering at the edge of his consciousness like an ember waiting to ignite. His body ached, muscles sore from hours of strained focus, but the faint warmth under his skin kept him pushing forward. Each attempt with the Heat Shield had brought him closer, refined his control. And now, as he sat cross-legged in the middle of his cell, he could almost sense the barrier thinning between his reality and the Primordial Fire Realm he glimpsed in his visions.

"Come on," he muttered, closing his eyes, steadying his breath. "Just a little more."

As he focused, he felt the heat rise within, a controlled burn he'd painstakingly nurtured into something… almost tangible. He concentrated on his hands, visualizing the fire swirling around them, trying to bridge that elusive gap between his mind and reality.

The room fell silent, save for his heartbeat thudding in his ears, syncing with the pulsing warmth in his hands. Slowly, carefully, he reached for it, urging the fire to appear, to solidify.

Then, with a sudden surge, he felt it—a flicker of heat, a spark catching flame. A tiny spark materialized in his palm, a faint glow that danced for barely a second before vanishing, leaving behind the slight scent of smoke and char.

Nathan stared at his hand, breathless. He'd done it. The fire had manifested, if only for a heartbeat.

The System screen flickered to life, and a message scrolled across in sharp, clear letters:

"Skill Unlocked: Fire Conduit I. Channel limited amounts of the Primordial Fire."

A surge of triumph washed over him. He'd crossed a threshold, gained something new—a way to harness the fire in a more direct form. Fire Conduit was an entry point, a stepping stone into something that felt vast and unfathomable. He clenched his fist, feeling the warmth linger, a reassurance that he was inching closer to power.

Yet his victory was short-lived.

A crackling noise broke his reverie. The door to his cell slid open, and two guards entered, their faces expressionless as they approached.

"Stand up, anomaly," one of them said, a hard edge to his voice. "Routine inspection."

Nathan got to his feet, concealing any sign of the strain that gnawed at him from his previous exertion. He knew better than to show weakness. As the guards searched his cell, his gaze remained fixed on the far wall, feigning indifference.

But his calm shattered when the taller guard paused by the far corner, crouching to inspect a faint mark on the wall. A scorch mark, subtle but unmistakable. The guard's lips tightened, and he exchanged a glance with his companion.

"Well, look at this," the second guard said, sneering. "Seems our anomaly's been having… fun."

Nathan kept his face impassive, but his mind raced. He'd been careful, trying to contain the flames to his hands. But apparently, a mark had slipped through.

Without a word, the guards exited, leaving Nathan alone once more. His heart beat faster, a mixture of nerves and defiance swirling within him. He'd made a mark. They knew something was happening, but he couldn't afford to stop. This progress—it was a lifeline.

Hours later, when the door opened again, Nathan felt a chill run down his spine. It wasn't the usual guards. This time, a single figure entered, his gaze cold, calculating.

Agent Kael.

Nathan had heard the rumors, snippets from guards' passing conversations. Kael was high-ranking, ruthless—a Blessed individual known for breaking detainees, for finding exactly where their spirit lay and grinding it into dust. His icy demeanor and reputation for "discipline" had made him infamous among detainees and guards alike.

Kael strode into the cell, his eyes scanning every inch, pausing on the faint scorch mark on the wall. His lips twisted into a slight smirk, an expression that sent a shiver through Nathan.

"Quite the artist, aren't we?" Kael said, voice low, almost mocking. "Leaving your little signature on the walls now, are we?"

Nathan said nothing, keeping his face impassive.

Kael chuckled, his gaze sharp. "Oh, don't play coy with me. You know, we keep a very close eye on anomalies like you. And yet, here you are, causing a bit of a stir. You think that little… spark means you're special?"

Nathan held his gaze, refusing to break eye contact. "Maybe it means I'm closer than you think."

Kael's smirk deepened. He leaned in, close enough that Nathan could see the cold calculation in his eyes. "Closer? To what, exactly? A hero's escape? Freedom?"

Nathan felt the familiar warmth rising within him, but he suppressed it, keeping his breathing steady. "You'll see soon enough."

Kael's expression darkened. "Bravado's cute, anomaly, but remember who holds the keys here. Do you think you're the first one to show signs of… 'potential'? They all thought they were special too. Do you know where they are now?" His smile was cold, razor-sharp. "I could show you."

Nathan forced himself to stay silent, but Kael's words cut deep, planting seeds of doubt. What had happened to the others? Had there been others like him, others who'd gotten close to something powerful, only to be… what? Broken?

"You seem to enjoy silence," Kael continued, folding his arms. "Let's see how long that lasts." He paused, as if savoring the anticipation. "You need a reminder of what happens when anomalies overstep."

Kael turned to leave, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "Think on that, anomaly. Enjoy your little flickers while they last."

The door shut with a resounding thud, leaving Nathan in silence once more. His fists clenched, the warmth simmering under his skin. He could feel his control slipping, his anger and frustration stoking the flames within. The Fire Conduit, however small, had shown him a glimpse of what lay beyond, of a power worth fighting for. But Kael's taunts echoed in his mind, reminding him just how thin his defenses were.

As the hours passed, Nathan's exhaustion took hold, and he slumped against the wall, drained. Just as his eyelids drooped, the System flashed once more:

"Closer… to… flame's… core."

The message was fragmented, broken, yet it filled him with a sense of impending change. He'd felt it, a tug deeper than any before, as though the fire was reaching out to him, calling him to push harder, to not give in.

But how much further could he go?

The next day, he resumed his training, determined to bring the Heat Shield back to life, to test the limits of the Fire Conduit. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, pulling on the warmth in his core, guiding it to his hands. Slowly, carefully, he felt the warmth intensify, pooling in his palms, swirling into a faint, fiery shimmer. He opened his eyes, watching as the tiny spark flickered once more, a tangible reminder that his power was real.

"Fire Conduit I activated," the System announced in a monotone voice. He held the flame for a moment, feeling its heat radiate, then allowed it to dissipate.

He collapsed back against the wall, exhausted but triumphant. Every tiny step mattered. Every small victory reminded him that he wasn't broken yet.

And then, just as he was about to close his eyes, the System delivered its final message of the day:

"Closer to freedom."

Nathan slumped back, muscles sore, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. His breaths came shallow and fast, but he didn't mind. Exhaustion had become his familiar companion, a reminder that each day of training brought him closer to something the GRA couldn't contain, no matter how hard they tried.

For now, he would play along, bide his time, and let them believe they'd broken him. Because he knew, deep down, that the flames within him were growing stronger. The Primordial Fire was closer, hotter, an unspoken promise of power that would not be denied.