I Smell Like Roast Pork
Nathan leaned against a jagged obsidian outcrop, his breaths coming in ragged bursts. The molten air filled his lungs, burning with every inhale, yet somehow it steadied him. The serpent's ashes still smoldered nearby, and faint embers floated in the air, like fireflies in hell.
He clenched his fists, his hands still radiating heat. The power he'd felt when he consumed the serpent's flames lingered in his veins—a foreign energy that felt alien and yet completely his own. He smirked bitterly, a dark laugh bubbling up from his throat.
"No more cages," he muttered, his voice gravelly and low. "No more chains."
Nathan's mind drifted, unbidden, back to the GRA's sterile corridors. The harsh fluorescent lights, the cold steel walls, Kael's mocking sneer—all of it etched into his memory like scars on his soul.