Chapter 47: 47: The Flames of Urgency

My head drooped against the stone, and I almost let it stay there.

Almost.

It would have been easy to let things end there; to say that I had tried my hardest in this life. After all, there was always the next one. I could always try again. Not now, but later. When I wasn't so tired. When I wasn't so hurt. When I wasn't so...everything. My scale-flesh ached in a way that was almost beyond bearable, the place where my tail had been throbbing with a pulse that never seemed to go away. For a moment, I nearly moved towards it, my habit of clamping down upon it in times of great stress shining through - but then I realized again that nothing was there.

I couldn't be that same snake anymore. I couldn't be [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail]. Not in this life.

It was even more frustrating than I would have imagined. It was like one of the last parts of who I was, back when I had been that weak and worried snake in the Great Core's nest, had been stolen away from me. And all I had to do to get that back was nothing. Just sit there, and let my wounds take me away. Hold still, like I was trapped in the threads of red that had taken my last life, and wait for my mind to weaken and my scale-flesh to lose its luster.

All I had to do was wait.

All I had to do was die.

Instead, I picked my head up, abandoning the cool embrace of the stone below me. There would be time later to retrieve who I had been; it was inevitable, even. If I was no longer [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail], I was doomed to a slow death. And when that came, I would become [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail] again.

The Great Core would restore me.

My tongue flicked weakly from between my lips, catching the scent-taste of the air. Reminded by what I found, I turned my gaze upwards. The stone-tendril bad-thing hung limply from its place on the ceiling, dangling from damaged tendrils. I let my mind wander a bit, distracted by the sight from my ever-draining blood. For a moment, I wondered if I could reach it before I died; I imagined sinking my fangs into its faltering flesh, taking it with me in my death. Punishing it for the loss of my tail - the loss of my comfort.

The thought was tempting, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to reach it.

I wondered how much experience it would give. Better than most of the other bad-things I had fought, I thought. Though I didn't want to admit it, only the bad-thing's single-mindedness, ripping itself apart in order to continue blasting away at my illusion, had allowed me to live.

The thought rankled, causing me to hiss in displeasure at my enemy.

Still, I respected the effort to a degree. I would have done the same, if I had encountered an enemy that had survived attack after attack, advancing upon the Great Core. Just keep throwing everything at the problem until there was nothing left - of either myself or the enemy, whichever came first.

That respect didn't dim my hatred.

I hissed again.

My scale-flesh trembled, and I almost fell to the stone once more. I decided to let the bad-thing live for now - it was too much effort. Next life though, I would find a way to eat it.

I hoped that it tasted good. Even if it didn't, victory surely would.

I refocused, realizing that my thoughts were wandering. I didn't have much time left, and I had been wasting it staring at the defeated bad-thing. It was the same thought-haze that I had felt within the threads of red, captured by the Aridae in my first life. That was concerning; it meant that I might have less time left than I had imagined.

I slithered forward, trying to move more quickly. I didn't, not really. It was much harder to move, after losing much of the lower half of my body. My elegant swirls had turned into halting, broken jerks, pushing me along in fits and starts rather than letting me flow across the floor. Still, I kept going.

Here and there, little bits of light peeked through the large-tunnel's walls, created by the flame-water that hid behind its cracks. In some places, it overflowed - not much, only tiny little drops that nearly sealed the wall-cracks from which they flowed, but enough for me to take in the light that I might need. The heat that they brought was far less welcome.

It grew as I traveled, and my journey became even slower. Gouts of flame flared out behind me, almost feeling as if they were pushing me along faster with the frequency at which I had to release them. My mouth burned with fire-pain, and my vision flickered. Not with the thought-light, though I wished that it had.

It just...flickered.

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The heat only grew as I traveled, making things worse. My mind danced after every thought that slithered across it, my continual blood loss spurring it onwards.

Eventually, my scale-flesh rubbed past a pit in the large-tunnel’s floor, the stone melted in a way that even the Flame Formican’s [Molten Bite] couldn’t manage. They softened the stone and crushed what remained; this was different. It was melted cleanly.

Fortunately, it was an old mark. The stone was cool to the touch, almost soothing on my battered scale-flesh.

The air was less so. Combined with the constant heat of [Molten Bite], it worked at my scale-flesh again. Each slither that I took only caused it to rise.

Yet, at the same time, I felt the scent-taste of the Core on my tongue, stronger than ever before. It grew with each moment, the unmistakable sense of smoke and flame, hate and passion, rage and power. It wasn’t soothing in the way that the Great Core had been. I didn’t want to curl up under its embrace, to let my worries wash away with each moment that I waited.

Instead, it brought me to the edge.

It angered me, the way that it was both so like and unlike the Great Core. It was wrong. At the same time, I wanted it. I needed it.

So I slithered onwards, ignoring the way that the heat grew and [Illusion Spark] strained to hold it back. Ignoring the way that my scale-flesh dragged itself across the stone, pulled more by my own determination than anything else. The fire-pain was only natural. The lesser Core did not want me to find it.

I was getting closer.

I slithered faster and faster, pushing through the sluggishness that it tried to inflict. It was getting desperate, I was sure. It knew that the champion of the Great Core had come to claim it.

A great need urged me onwards, filling my mind. My fangs dripped with the fire-pain of [Molten Bite], my mouth salivating at the thought of the meal that awaited. My tongue-flesh burned. I no longer cared enough to drive the fire-pain away. [Illusion Spark] was too distracting.

I was too focused.

Excitement flooded my scale-flesh, starting a tingle on my tongue and running through my insides, pulling my mind from the formerly-impenetrable haze of my coming death. This was what I was created for. This was why I was here. This was why -

I saw it.

A great orange glow, spilling its way into the large-tunnel as it exited into a new cavern. Compared to the divine glow of the Great Core, it was nothing. That was fitting. As I had expected of a lesser Core.

I followed my sight, slithering into the cavern despite the way that my scale-flesh had begun to ache and strain under the heat. It wouldn’t need to for much longer. It would soon be over, and when the Core was gone, the heat that it created would go with it.

The cavern was larger than I had ever seen, featuring an open expanse of rock and stone-spikes near the entrance. At the back, it shifted into a great pool of fire-water. A long and winding pathway of smooth gray stone cut across most of its surface, leading nearly all the way to the other side.

A line of fire-pain cut against my scale-flesh as I slithered over another pit of melted stone.

This time, it was still warm.

The orange glow grew further behind me - and I realized that I had already passed its source. I turned around, searching for the lesser Core that I had come to claim.

Two flame-gaze bad-things stared back.

Their pupils shifted.

The glow grew further.

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