The fire licked high, but not high enough to scare him now.
Yasin walked slowly into the pit barefoot, as he had every morning for the past three days. The coals glowed a rich amber beneath the bed of low, crackling flames, and the heat rose like a living wall around him. His skin shimmered with sweat, his chest heaved from the still-unfamiliar pressure of holding his breath—not from exertion, but fear. Fear that the flames might bite again. Fear that he would fail while his master watched from the throne.
But they didn't bite. Not anymore.
With each step, he focused. The dance of heat and spirit around him grew clearer, more familiar. The fire hissed near his ankle, reached for his calf, but stopped short as if feeling the boundary of his will. Like a curious beast testing its leash.
"Good," came the voice from above. Calm and patient, yet carrying the weight of authority. Zahiris, the demigod in violet and black, stood with arms folded, his face lit by the dancing glow below.
Yasin didn't reply. His lips were dry, his body tense, but his focus didn't waver. The flame curled and bowed away from him like reeds in the wind.
He reached the center of the pit and dropped to his knees, breathing slow and deep. The world blurred at the edges—heat haze twisting the sky—but he was still there. Still whole. Still unburnt.
And then, for just a moment, he smiled.
After a few breaths, Yasin closed his eyes, pressing his hands to the scorched earth. Heat pulsed beneath his fingers, alive and waiting.
Then Zahiris raised a hand.
The fire around the pit lurched upward in response, flames flaring high like grasping claws. The air thickened with the scent of smoke and magic.
"It is not enough to endure," Zahiris said, his voice now echoing like a hammer strike against stone. "The fire accepts you—but now you must unmake it."
With a fluid motion, Zahiris conjured an hourglass in the air beside him. It hovered just above his open palm, its glass pale and curved like the eye of a serpent. The sand inside shimmered silver, falling grain by grain into the lower chamber.
"As the sands fall," he said, "so too shall the fire rise. You may leave the pit only when the flame becomes water. Or not at all."
Yasin's eyes opened wide. The pit was already growing hotter. The flames crept higher than before, licking toward his shoulders, bending toward his breath. The coals beneath him flared with hunger.
He gritted his teeth and lowered his hands deeper, pressing his palms into the heat as if reaching into a furnace. The pain was there, yes—but distant, dulled by the iron will he had sharpened over days of trial.
Turn the fire into water.
It sounded impossible. Laughable. Fire was fire. It burned. It consumed. Water quenched it—opposed it. But Zahiris had always spoken in riddles, and riddles were a blade with two edges.
It wasn't about dousing. It was about transmutation. About turning spirit into form. Force into flow.
Yasin inhaled slowly. He let his breath trail down through his limbs, into the earth beneath him. He no longer imagined fire. He imagined the essence beneath it: movement, energy, hunger. All things water had too, in its own shape.
The flames hissed as if in protest. They rose taller, licking at his back, now high enough to sear flesh.
Zahiris watched in silence, the hourglass turning slowly in his hand. The sand poured faster now, and with it, the fire surged. The pit became an inferno.
Yasin's skin cracked at the shoulders, blisters rising along his arms. Sweat boiled off his body in rivulets. But still, he did not scream. He did not move.
Inside his chest, his spirit stirred.
Flow, he thought. Not fight. Not destroy. Flow.
The fire whipped around him, a cyclone of heat and fury. But as Yasin exhaled, it shifted. Just slightly. The blue at the heart of the flame dimmed. A thread of steam curled upward from beneath his hands.
He focused on that thread. Fed it. Drew from the pain, the fear, the heat pressing in on him from all sides—and turned it, in his mind, into motion. Into softness. Into the cool hush of water meeting stone.
For a heartbeat, the fire near his hands sputtered and dripped like wax. For a heartbeat, it forgot itself.
And in that heartbeat, so did Yasin.
The fire forgot itself—only for a breath.
Then it roared back, wild and furious, as if offended by the weakness it had shown. A wall of heat slammed into Yasin's chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The pit pulsed red, the flames swirling higher with every grain of silver sand that fell.
His arms trembled. Skin peeled at the elbows. His breath hitched into ragged gasps. He could no longer feel the ground beneath him—only the burn, constant and merciless, stripping away thought.
Above, the hourglass continued to turn.
—
I looked into the pit, my heart twisting slightly as I watched the flames rise, curling hungrily around his body. The pained grunts that followed echoed like iron dragging across stone. I sighed and turned away before sympathy could soften my resolve.
With a subtle gesture, I shrank into my throne, reducing my body to a sixth of its usual size—compact, regal, effortless. Then, I called forth the CYOA Interface.
A burst of white light shimmered into existence before me, coalescing into panels of crystal that twisted and folded upon themselves, forming a floating crystal skull—glimmering, weightless, and silent. It didn't speak. It had learned, after all this time, that speech was premature until I completed the ritual of summoning. And, as it anticipated, I snapped my fingers.
First, a spine spiraled downward from its base—elegant and serpentine—followed by a ribcage blooming open like a mechanical flower. Tendons stretched, organs knit into place, muscle layered in sheets, and last came skin: dark bronze and gleaming under the ambient glow. A beauty sculpted from sorcery.
"What is it you require, enslavor, Zahiris al-Miraj?" she asked, her voice smoother than silk.
"Come, sit on my lap," I said as I grew my body to match her proportions. The Interface had a fun limitation—manifesting as a crystal skull five times bigger than mine—but that was an easy fix.
She moved with grace, hips swaying like water under moonlight, and seated herself upon me. I leaned forward and gave her a deep kiss. I was a lustful man, but this wasn't why I summoned her this time.
"Show me my inventory," I commanded while running a finger down her neck and onto her chest.
[Points: 12] [Tickets: 1] [Crystal Rank Valuation: D8] [CP: 47]
[Build] [App°] [Captives] [Drawbacks] [[Inventory]]
Bloodline Enhancement Ticket (x1) (Use)
[Description: A ticket that enhances your bloodline, granting new abilities or powers. Can be used at any time. (Expiration : 02:59:57:56)
I gazed at the panel suspended above her breasts in thought as I began to grope and test their firmness; in the past three days I hadn't just been training Yasin to be the heir to a kingdom I have yet to build; no, I've been testing the limits of my power, and I was happy to find my limitations had somewhat become more lenient.
I still can't create biological life or control time, but I've been able to form digital and bionic life. Well, I'm limited to the certain degree of intelligence and understanding I can grant them. But that was an easy fix, as I gave them the highest form of Santiants I could and then linked them all to the supercomputer I had stored different scripts and reactions to certain scenarios and knowledge and established a miniature high Vee network. That allows them to react to most problems with ease.
So what did I do with them after? I scrapped it and put a potential robot uprising on pause, hmm. Should I fly to another continent when I'm about to leave this world and plant the seed of a robot treat for Yasin to deal with??. That'll solidify his position over this continent even after I leave.
[Points: 12] [Tickets: 0] [Crystal rank valuation: D8] [CP: 47]
[[Build]] [App] [Captives] [Drawbacks (locked)]
[World: ??? (Apocalyptic World: 7682_25)]
[Starting Location: Random]
[Race: Genie / Lunar Jin]
[Name: Zahiris al-Miraj]
[Origin: None]
[Heritage: Starborn Essence (38%), Astral Flame (50%), Whisper of the Djinn (49%), Moon-Touched, Low Grade: Ifrit Blood, Sandborn Pact, Mirage Veil, Wishbound Oath
[Talents: Added Potential (x2), Fertility, Wishcraft (Low Grade), Elemental Affinity (Fire & Air), Mirage Step, Silver Tongue, Spirit Resonance]
[Defense: Superior Body (Mid Grade)]
[Other: Genie Lamp (Shattered), Gold Bracelets, Random Outfit (Genie Themed), CYOA Interface Link (required)]
I didn't instantly press the Bloodline Enhancement Ticket; I've debated whether or not to use it for a while now, but I couldn't bring myself to use it. I had asked Samira, the name I've given the interface, about how the ticket works, and she had told me that if you had multiple bloodlines, it'd select either the most prominent bloodline to enhance or the one with a potent lineage.
But it's not all upsides because by enhancing a certain bloodline, you risk losing abilities directly linked with the weaker or less prominent bloodlines, and looking at my character sheet, I felt more unease.
While creating my build, I had selected a unique half-genie race, gaining a few heritage and talents such as Starborn Essence, Whisper of the Djinn, Moon-Touched, Sandborn Pact, Wishbound Oath, Wishcraft, Air Elemental Affinity, and Silver Tongue.
Just looking at this would make you assume that my genie blood would be prominent, right? Well, that's what I'd like to think, but if I'm looking at it from what's more potent, I'd say that Ifrit Blood not only had it alone and up, costing almost all my starting 500 points and only leaving me with 12 points.
It merged and enhanced all my other heritages and talents, along with adding more and enhancing my superior body defense to mid-grade. And that's what's been stopping me.
What if I enhance my bloodline and I lose my ability to wishcraft? I was already being affected by my new genie instincts, more so before I was unbound, so what would happen if I became an Ifrit? Would I become a wrathful flame spirit, full of pride and arrogance?? And if I do nothing with the ticket, I'd just expire, and then would what I did to obtain it even be justified??
I broke out of my train of thought and looked at the pit in front of me; its flame grew taller while a mist rose up from within it. "How excellent~" I said genuinely excited as I looked through the fire and the boy within, the flames curving around his body no longer searing his skin, while small puddles of water appeared and quenched the coals around him. I looked at Yasin and smiled, snapping my fingers and healing his wounds while also relieving his fatigue.
I lean back into my throne, hand still groping Samira's breasts. "Open, general trade," I said, finally making up my mind.
"As you wish, enslaver, Zahiris al-Miraj," Samira said as reality seemed to gray, sounds coming to a stop, as the panel in front of me changed.
[Build] [[App]] [Captives] [Drawbacks] [Inventory]
[Slave Trade] [Magic Trade] [Ritual Circles] [Weapon Trade] [[General Trade (NEW°) [World Travel]
—
[Trading Offer: I'm looking to trade a seven-foot-tall forest orc.] [Rank: E3]
[Trading Details : I'm looking for a creature or a group of creatures (depending on the rank and abilities I'm looking for) with the ability to heal a being at the early stages of E rank.]
—
[Trading Offer: A cursed gold ring, with the ability to tune whoever's wearing it immobile till it's removed.]
[Trading Details : I don't want any physical trades; if you want to trade, give me two capture points.]
—
[Trading Offer: $500,000 USD (liquid funds, clean)]
[Trading Details: Seeking an item, artifact, or consumable that grants magical ability or supernatural potential to someone born without it. Must work permanently.]
---
[Trading Offer: A sentient mirror with personality disorder] [Rank: F8]
[Trading Details: Seeking a stealth-based item (E-rank or lower).]
—
The panel in front of me began to shift rapidly, trade offers scrolling faster than I could process. Each one appeared for mere seconds before being pushed up by newer listings, the pace relentless. I held my breath, watching. This was my first real interaction with others who had played Crystal Lights CYOA like I had. A strange sense of camaraderie welled up inside me. I wasn't as alone in this as I'd thought. The sheer volume of offers, blinking in and out like stars, spoke of an entity far larger than I had imagined… and I was now part of it.