THE BURNING MAN.

The dawn kissed the horizon with a soft, peach hue, casting long shadows over the glistening spires that reached for the heavens. The air was thick, coated with the scent of blossoming flora, their petals shimmering like glass under the early light.

In the distance more than visible were crystalline structures, each glowing with a breath-taking luminescence, their surfaces alive with intricate, flowing patterns that seemed to shift and dance. One would not be remiss to call it all beautiful, to bask at the tapestry of lush, emerald foliage, interspersed with vibrant blooms of every imaginable color or the Streams of liquid silver that wound their way through the landscape, reflecting the sky in a mesmerizing play of light.

But beauty, as it often does, was quick to give way to horror. The once serene skies instantly darkening, blotted out by the shadow of vast sleek, metallic vessels that carved their way through the atmosphere, their forms angular and predatory clustered in the sky above, all imposing with their sheer size and number.

They descended with a roar, their hulls bristling with weaponry that gleamed menacingly pulsing out explosions of golden light that shattered the tranquility, sending plumes of smoke and debris into the air.

The elegant spires crumbled, their majesty lost...each radiant surface marred by blackened scorch marks. The ground quaking under the assault of golden fire that ceaselessly rained from the heavens, consuming everything in its path. The vibrant vegetation withered and burned, their colors fading to ash. The streams of silver turned to rivers of molten metal, flowing chaotically through the ruins.

Screams echoed through the devastation, loud and powerful, the air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning.

His eyes snapped open.

Gasping for breath, his chest heavy and wide gaze fleeting round the room, he bolted upright, quick to note that he was lying on an odd slab, his chest throbbing with a sharp sting that had his hand instinctively moving to soothe the pain, coming away smeared with crimson. He stared at it, and heart pounding continued to take in his surroundings.

The room was vast, filled with the remnants of advanced technology. Monitors and screens lay shattered and charred, their surfaces cracked and lifeless. The walls bore the scars of a violent explosion, blackened and warped. In the corner, draped across the walls, lay the grotesque remains of humanoid creatures. Their scaly skin was charred to a crisp, their lizard-like heads twisted in the agony of their final moments.

He blinked at the sight, his eyes widening in horror.

The gruesome displayed prompted thoughts to take root within his mind, they began to race through it, formed into a steady stream of questions which halted briefly as like a floodgate opening, their answers came.

Memories upon memories crashing into his consciousness with brutal force, causing his head to throb and pushing him to clutch at his skull, groaning at the searing pain. Wobbling off the slab, his vision swimming, he attempted to move forward each step proving to be quite the struggle as inch by inch, he made his way out of the room, his heart heavy with the weight of the revelations that battered his mind but hardened with resolve all the same. 

Fortune had rarely smiled upon him for as long as he could remember, but this was outright ridiculous. To escape captivity only to find himself incarcerated once more—Zarxar the crooked was most probably laughing in glee at his predicament. Using his woes for entertainment. 

No matter; there were more important things to deal with.

The man looks at his hands and clenches them into fists. He presses his lips tight and, taking a deep breath, pooling what little energy he has to keep moving, he makes his way out, the sliding doors of the lab opening as the motion sensors take note of his presence.

He enters a hallway and steadily limps through, red still spilling from what he now registers to be a slash on his chest. It should have healed a long time ago, but for some reason, it just settled on remaining a nuisance, gaping wide, streaming out red the more he aggravated it with his insistent need to move.

The corridor stretches before him, a long expanse of cold, metallic walls interspersed with flickering lights that cast eerie shadows. The floor, once polished to a reflective shine, is now marred with stains of varying shades, some darker, more sinister than others. His steps echo in the emptiness, each one a painful reminder of his fragile state. His breath comes in ragged gasps, the wound on his chest throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat, every movement sending sharp stabs of agony through his body.

He doesn't walk long before he comes upon another door. Internally leaving his fate to the goddess, he opens it and enters. An instant regret as he finds about ten reptilian, humanoid beasts, dressed in pristine white coats. They stare at him, silent and still, and he returns the glance, freezing in place so still one would assume he hoped he could simply fade from their sight if he stood still enough. Perhaps that was what he was thinking; regardless, the goddess had forsaken him, disappointed him once more.

And in one bound they growl, charging towards his form. He quickly reacts, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cut burns with pain, pulsing out its searing burn as he dodges a clawed hand that strikes at him. Grasping onto it before it can retreat back, he tightens his grip, reveling in the crack that sounds through the room and the pained wail of his assailant. With a turn, he spins the creature around and thrusts it towards its companions. It soars and slams into them like a bowling ball, and they, like pins, fall to the ground.

Panting, he steadies himself, using the precious few seconds bought by his maneuver to survey the room. The stark contrast between the sterile environment and the chaos of the confrontation is jarring. The pristine white coats of the creatures now smeared with blood, both his and theirs, the floor littered with broken glass and overturned equipment.

Panting, he steadies himself, using the precious few seconds bought by his maneuver to survey the room. The stark contrast between the sterile environment and the chaos of the confrontation is jarring. The pristine white coats of the creatures are now smeared with blood, both his and theirs, the floor littered with broken glass and overturned equipment.

One of the creatures rises, snarling, its eyes filled with a predatory hunger. He braces himself, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones but refusing to succumb to it. The creature lunges, and he meets it with a swift, calculated strike, his movements driven by a combination of desperation and determination.

As he twists to avoid another attack, a clawed hand catches him across the back, tearing through his flesh. He gasps in pain, stumbling forward, his vision swimming. Another creature takes advantage of his momentary distraction, slashing at his arm, drawing more blood. The wounds burn like fire, every new cut sapping his strength, but he grits his teeth and fights on.

The creatures are relentless, their ferocity unmatched. They swarm him, their claws and teeth flashing in the dim light, each strike a testament to their predatory nature. He fights back with everything he has, every movement a struggle against the encroaching darkness threatening to claim him. His fists connect with scales and bone, the satisfying crunch of a broken limb, the wet thud of a body hitting the ground, but it's not enough.

They drive him into a corner, their numbers overwhelming. His back hits the cold, unyielding wall, aggravating the slash on it's surface. He hisses in pain, eyes wildly taking in his assailants. He is surrounded, their growls echoing in his ears, their eyes gleaming with the promise of death. He lashes out, his movements growing more desperate, more erratic. He catches one across the jaw, sending it reeling, but another takes its place, claws raking across his chest, reopening the slash that had stubbornly refused to heal.

His vision narrows, his strength waning. The pain is all-consuming, a constant, burning agony that clouds his mind. He struggles to stay upright, to keep fighting, but the creatures are too many, too strong. They close in, their claws and teeth tearing at him, and he's sure he's about to lose.

Then, something shifts within him. A surge of adrenaline, a last, desperate burst of energy. He roars, a primal sound that echoes through the room, and throws himself at the creatures with renewed ferocity. He grabs one by the throat, feeling the scales under his fingers, and squeezes, a burn surges it's way out of him, a fierce, primal heat that ignites in his chest and spreads through his veins. His skin shimmers and glows, at that moment he feels like a flame, and with a roar, he lets the fire, the extension of his being pool out from within him, igniting into bright green flames that lick at his flesh yet do not burn nor consume him. His eyes blaze with the same unearthly light.

He tightens his grasp on the beast's throat.

It writhes eyes steadily widening with terror as the green fire spreads from his hand, trailing onto it's scaly flesh and feasting. It screams, a high-pitched, agonized wail that echoes through the room, mingling with the crackling of the flames. A thick, acrid smell fills the air making his eyes water and his throat burn.

He squeezes tighter, feeling the creature's struggles weaken as the fire consumes it. The green flames dance along its body, turning scales to ash and muscle to char. Its cries fade to gurgles, then silence, as it finally goes limp in his grasp. He releases it, letting the charred corpse fall to the floor with a dull thud.

The other creatures hesitate, momentarily stunned by the display of raw power. But their hesitation is brief. With a collective snarl, they charge at him again, their claws and teeth bared. 

A mistake.

He grabs another, his fingers digging into its flesh as the green fire races down his arm and onto the creature. It screeches, trying to pull away, but he holds firm, the flames consuming its limb and spreading to the rest of its body. It thrashes wildly, but he doesn't relent, not until it too is reduced to a smoldering husk.

He does so with the others, and soon one remains huddled at a corner arms protectively raised to cover it's face, body shaking, fear set firm in it's heart.

He advances slowly towards the huddled creature, his footsteps echoing ominously in the now quiet room. The green fire still flickers faintly around his hands, his presence seems to loom larger, his form almost towering over the trembling beast.

"Psion," he intones, his voice resonating with a depth and power that belies his exhausted state. It's not just his voice anymore, It reverberates through the room, as if multitudes echo his words, a chorus of voices speaking through him.

The Psion looks up, its reptilian eyes wide with fear, arms still raised protectively. It cowers, a low whimper escaping its throat, the fear palpable in its trembling form.

"I have been..." The echo was gone, replaced by a hollow silence that mirrored his own uncertainty. Mere minutes ago, he had felt formidable, resolute in his purpose, but now...

It wouldn't do to linger on that now. As he had solemnly vowed, there were weightier matters to confront. "I have failed my people. I have failed my home. But I refuse to continue in that regard any longer." The words, spoken aloud to the cold-blooded creature before him, echoed with a mix of defiance and self-reproach.

He couldn't fully explain why he felt compelled to bare his soul to such an unlikely confidant. Yet, in this desolate moment, amid shadows cast by flickering torchlight and the oppressive stillness of the cavern, he found solace in doing so.

"And I know..." He whispered, hands clenching into fists, the very action causing the Psion to flinch. 

"You hold somewhere in here, my salvation, my opportunity at redemption."

His wounds had healed, it took him quite a while to notice but the burn was there no longer.

"You will take me to them and perhaps I might allow you to keep your worthless life. Understood?" 

The creature stared into his gaze.

It burned green.

Hastily, it took little time to nod, scrambling onto it's feet without further prompt.