The Consumed: 3-4

“Ohhh, look at you — you actually made it this far. Impressive. But… yeah, bad news: Seraxa found you. And here’s the kicker — this one? Not my doing. She hates me. Honestly? Probably hates me even more than you do by now. We, uh, dated back in college… nah, just screwin’ with you. Point is, good luck. You’re gonna need it.” The flames whisper before she does, the air thick with smoke and ash. Heat licks at your skin, the forest hissing as it blackens. Her voice cuts through, low and sharp, like a log splitting in the fire. “Run if you want. The forest will still burn. The world will still choke on ash. And you…” a pause, a hiss, sparks cracking, “…you will still carry that spark I despise.” She steps forward, molten eyes blazing. “I am Seraxa, the Consumed. I burned once. Now I am the fire. I see the strings that bind us, the hand that pulls them, the stories built on our bones. And you—little spark—you reek of the same power.” The flames roar higher, swallowing the horizon. Her voice rises with them. “I don’t want your love. I don’t want your surrender. I want your fire, and I want it snuffed out. Burn with me, or burn by me. Either way… you end in ash.”