What? Did I Just Reincarnate As A Flame?

[p_magno]

The click-hiss of a soda can punctuated the city's afternoon hum. Jessica raised the can in a small salute, her voice cutting through the pedestrian flow. "Hey! Over here!"

Two figures weaving through the crowd turned. Mark, his face lighting up with recognition, waved back, gently guiding the woman beside him—Elsa.

They reached her spot by the newsstand. "Hey, Marky," Jessica said, her smile easy as she looped an arm around his shoulders in their usual, half-headlock greeting. "Been a while."

Mark laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "Hey ugh!, not too hard on the neck, I want it straight for the wedding photos." He patted her elbow with a winced expression, playing at struggling.

"Knucklehead," she mumbled, giving an extra, squeeze before releasing him, earning a soft laugh from Elsa.

Jessica turned her attention to the source of the laugh. Elsa was all gentle smiles and kind eyes. "You must be the famous fiancée," Jessica said, her tone warm. "This guy's been feeding me a steady diet of 'Elsa this' and 'Elsa that' for months. It was sweet enough to give me a cavity." She threw a wink at the younger woman.

It was true. Back when Elsa was just 'the girlfriend,' Mark had been a one-man broadcasting station of her virtues. 'She remembered I hate celery, Jess!' 'She laughs at my dumbest jokes.' 'She's just… heartwarming, you know?' Jessica knew the subtext, the cheerful, unintentional jab beneath his blabbering. 'See? This is what it's like. Why don't you have this?'

Elsa's cheeks tinged pink. "Thank you for your words, Mrs. Jessica."

"No, no, no," Jessica interjected, waving a dismissive hand. "Just Jessica. Seriously. We're all colleagues here." She took a final sip of her drink and tossed the can into a bin. "Alright, let's get moving. I'm starving. The usual spot, or are we feeling adventurous?"

As the trio fell into step, debating burger joints versus the new sushi place, Jessica let the familiar rhythm of Mark's chatter wash over her. At work, she was the relatable senior, the one who remembered everyone's coffee order and could talk about video games and weekend plans, carefully sanding down the twelve-year age difference between her and most of the team. It was a role, a comfortable costume.

Behind the costume was the old dream. The one that had taken root when she was a teenager clutching a cheap microphone: to be a streamer, to build a community, to talk about games and life for a living. She'd tried. Late nights after her average job, talking to a screen showing only a handful of viewers. The passion was a small, stubborn flame, but reality was a bucket of cold water. Bills needed paying. Stability was a cage, but it was a secure one.

And here she was. Thirty-four. Walking with her junior colleague and his beautiful, kind fiancée. A walking emblem of everything her life had somehow skirted around.

'Sigh... What a life,' she thought, the smile on her face feeling suddenly thin. 'No love experience. Not even a single, messy boyfriend. Never got dumped, never got adored. Never even got properly looked at. Am I a quenched flame or something?'

She tilted her head back, seeking distraction in the expanse above the skyscrapers. The sky was a startling, perfect blue. Puffy, picturesque clouds drifted lazily. One, directly in her line of sight, had coalesced into a near-perfect, fluffy heart.... 'Wait-! is the sky teasing me too?'

The thought was almost laughable. But the laugh died before it was born.

A scream ripped through the ambient noise.

Jessica's head snapped toward the sound. Halfway across the busy cross-street, a small girl in a bright yellow dress stood frozen, a stuffed rabbit dangling from her hand. A delivery truck was bearing down on her, its horn blaring a continuous, desperate roar.

She saw Mark's body tense, his muscles coiling, ready to spring forward.

Her own body moved faster. Her hand shot out, shoving him hard back onto the curb. "Stay here! I'll do it!"

The words were out, her legs already pumping. The world narrowed to a tunnel: the child, the truck, the gap between them. Time didn't slow; it became terrifyingly efficient. She reached the girl, the rough fabric of the yellow dress scraping against her palms. There was no time for gentleness. She wrapped her arms around the small body and heaved, throwing the child back toward the sidewalk with all her strength.

The little girl tumbled onto safe concrete.

Jessica had no momentum left to follow.

The horn swallowed all other sound. The grille of the truck filled her vision, a wall of painted steel.

The last things to register were not sights, but sounds: the hydraulic screech of brakes fighting momentum, the sickening, wet THUD-CRUNCH that was not loud, but deep, and two voices weaving into a single chord of horror, Mark's shout and Elsa's piercing cry.

Then, silence.

A chilling, absolute stillness. There was no pain. No symphony of broken bones. It was as if her entire existence had been muted. She was drifting, untethered, her consciousness dissolving like smoke from a snuffed candle.

'Is this what dying feels like? No fanfare. No pain. No emotions. Just… nothing.'

'Haaaa... this is unbelievable. Departing without ever achieving a single dream.'


And most especially…

'A virgin. No spouse. Not even once being loved… NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!'

Just in that moment, something flickered in front of her. A pale, blue light, forming lines, boxes, text.


<< LOADING… >>

Even without eyes, without a face, Jessica perceived it. A familiar, digital aesthetic. Confusion cut through the resignation. 'Isn't this a game UI?'. She murmured into the nothingness.

The screen glitched, pixels dancing. The message changed, a cheerful, incongruous emoticon winking at the end.

<< TRANSMIGRATION…COMPLETE ^_^ >>


"W-What?? The hell is this?"

It wasn't a voice. She had no mouth, no lungs. It was pure, furious thought, echoing in a void that was suddenly full of input Sounds, overlapping and muddled. The crunch of boots on loose stone. The rasp of heavy breathing. A low, grumbling voice.

'What's going on?'

She tried to open her eyes. There was no eyelid to lift, no muscular effort, but her perspective shifted, sharpened. She was… looking. Seeing from a fixed point, about five feet off the ground.

Two figures moved ahead of her on a narrow, dark path. One was a burly man with a ruffled beard and shoulders like a brick wall, clad in worn leather. The other was younger, taller, with messy black hair and a profile that was… was.... distractingly well-structured in the low light. A handsome face, all sharp angles and a firm jaw.

'Okay,' she thought, her mental voice tinged with bewildered appreciation. 'What a nice viewpoint.'

But the appreciation curdled into confusion. The handsome man and the burly one were ahead, but her viewpoint trailed behind them, bobbing gently. The scenery, mossy stone walls, a dirt path—drifted past.

'It seems I'm walking behind them.'

A chill, unrelated to any temperature, prickled her non-existent spine.

'Or… is someone carrying me?'

She tried to move. To turn her head, to lift a hand, to shift a foot. The command fired from her consciousness into a void where no body answered. There was 'no can't do' reply, or simply nothing to command. She was a passenger, a watching intelligence glued to a single, unmoving vantage point.

She realized she had an encounter with Truck-kun and had Isekied, but she didn't know what she transmigrated as, and worst of all she couldn't see or feel her body, it was as if only her consciousness is here presently,

But in what?


With no other choice, she decided to muster the courage to speak as if trying to talk to the two men ahead


She had to know. She focused on the handsome man's retreating back. If she could just communicate… Gathering every ounce of her will, she pushed her thoughts outward, aiming them like a signal.

"Hello? Handsome?"

Silence. Just the crunch of boots, the rustle of cloth.

"Helloooooo?"

Nothing. Not a twitch, not a glance back. They moved steadily onward, utterly unaware of the frantic consciousness trailing in their wake.

'They aren't hearing me.' The isolation was instantaneous and absolute, a glass wall slamming down between her and the world. 'Then how do I know who and what am I?'

Just then, the burly man ahead stopped and turned. He didn't look at her; he looked past her viewpoint, his eyes focusing on the space just behind where she perceived herself to be.

"Hey, Henry," his voice rumbled, surprisingly close. "It's best you discard the light. We don't need it from here on out."

'What light?' Jessica's confusion spiked. 'What is he referring to? Why is he staring… past me?'

"Yes, sir." Henry answered, his voice was a pleasant baritone.

And just then, Henry's arm swung, throwing away the flame torch he was holding, and as s the torch was landing, Jessica field of vision tilted, spinning in a descending arc. A silent scream tore through her mind.


'HELP!!!!'

The torch clattered against the hard ground, the impact a dull thud she felt as a jolt through her very being. It rolled once, then settled, the flame sputtering and dipping dangerously close to the damp earth.

The truth didn't dawn. It exploded like a hellish enlightenment.

The flame. The bobbing viewpoint. The inability to move. Henry discarding the light.

'I… I'm… I'm A FLAME.'

The realization was a sucker punch to her soul. She had transmigrated. But was not a princess. Neither a mage. Not even a lowly goblin.


She was nothing else but.. A pitiful,


Dying..

...Flame.


And a discarded one at that.


*****



A blue screen, stark and urgent, blazed in her mind's eye, cutting through the tidal wave of her despair.


<< Warning!!! [SNORT TO KEEP YOUR LIFE BURNING] >>

"Hey, you!" Her mental voice was a shriek of outrage and terror. "Where have you been? What the hell are you on about? And why the hell am I a flame, damnit!! And, uhh… Snort? Why?"

Her question was answered immediately. As her panicked shouting faded, a deep, creeping coldness began to seep into her awareness. Her vision, the sight of the gritty dirt started to dim, the edges blurring into grey. A profound weakness, a feeling of unraveling, gripped her.

'Oh, gosh. Not when I just got here!'

The system's message flashed again, insistent. [SNORT].

She didn't have a nose. She didn't have lungs. But the command was primal, a basic survival instinct etched into her new, flickering existence. She focused on the concept of a snort, a sharp, inward pull of vitality.


Snort!

Nothing happened. The dimness deepened.


SNORT! she screamed inwardly, throwing all her will into the action.

A tiny, almost imperceptible flare of warmth. The grey receded a little.


SNORT!!

This time, the flame on the torch did flare. It jumped an inch higher, the blue-orange light brightening, pushing back the darkness that was both around her and within her. The creeping cold retreated. The feeling of solidity, of existing returned.

She inwardly let out a breath she didn't have. 'I look like a pig snorting for truffles, though.'

'Alright. With that problem aside… time to panic!!'

'No, wait,' she reasoned, trying to grasp at threads of her old self. 'Let me act maturely. And elegant. In situations like these, I should be calm and… and… and… give me a moment here.'


'NOOOOOOOO!!! I can't move! I can't do anything but stay here, snorting until I eventually fail! No, no, no, I need to DO something. I need to think of a way to move. No time for foolishness!'

An idea, desperate and frail, sparked. 'Why don't I ask the System? Yes, that'll be great.'

She turned her attention inward, towards the presence that had delivered the warning. "Hey… System?"

Silence.

"System?" she tried again, pushing her thought at it.

Nothing.

"Yoo-hoo…?"

A flicker of annoyance cut through the fear. "Hey, bastard! Are you ignoring me? Now of all times?"

Still, only the quiet hum of her own frantic thoughts answered.

'It seems it doesn't have a consciousness. That's kind of sad. I wanted something to talk to.' The memory surfaced, bittersweet and absurd: a light novel she'd read as a teen about an office worker reincarnated as a slime, aided by a wise, conversational system called 'Great Sage' or something. 'Lucky bastard.'

Pushing the envy aside, she began to experiment. First, the obvious: she tried to will herself to move, to crawl like an inchworm of fire along the torch handle. The command dissolved into nothingness. She was as glued to this spot of charred cloth as a tattoo to skin. "Waaahhhh! Failure!"

Second idea: maybe she needed to be lighter. If she let her flame dim, reduced her 'mass,' perhaps a breeze could carry an ember? She focused, letting the snort-maintained energy wane. The flame shrank, guttering low. The cold and the dimness rushed back in with terrifying speed, a yawning void opening beneath her. She panicked, snorting frantically to bring the flame back from the brink of extinction. "Daaaa! Suicide!"

'Jessica, you idiot!' She cursed her past self. 'You always hated biology, physics, science! You studied art! And now? Now I wish I knew how combustion works! Just a little! Stupid! Why am I a total failure in everything?'

A deep, helpless sigh echoed in the cathedral of her mind. She wanted to facepalm, to scream into her hands, but she had neither face nor hands.

So, she did the only thing left. She sang. An old, mournful country tune from her youth, one that had become the soundtrack to her disappointments. Her mental voice, which she privately thought was rather soulful, began the dirge.


"The road is dust… the well is dry~
The sun don't shine in my blue sky~
Love's a train that passed me by~
Leavin' nothin' but a lonesome sigh…

...Yeah, life's a hard, hard row to hoe~
And Fate's a heartless, icy foe…"


She poured her frustration, her fear, her boundless embarrassment into the imaginary lyrics, all while maintaining the rhythmic, life-saving snort-snort-snort that kept her alive. It was a pathetic, surreal orchestra of survival.

Just then, a movement caught her eye, her flickering, fire-based eye. A locust with dull brown wings, landed on the stone path a cautious foot away from her torch. It twitched, antennae waving, utterly unaware of the operatic tragedy unfolding beside it.

Jessica stopped singing.

It wasn't the insect that stopped her.

Far from that.

It was the blue screen that flashed into existence, overlaying the image of the locust with cold, beautiful text.


<< SKILL – POSSESS ACTIVE >>

<< 1 COMPATIBILITY FOUND >>

<< DO YOU WANT TO POSSESS? >>



<< YES / NO >>

The words hung there, glowing with impossible promise.

All despair, all self-pity, vanished. A slow, mischievous, utterly un-elegant giggle bubbled up from the core of her being.

Her third try.

It might just be a success.



"WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! FINALLY!!!!"

 

[Despacitoleo]

never seen a flame hehe

i shall watch this with great intreast

 

[p_magno]

never seen a flame hehe

i shall watch this with great intreast

Click to shrink...

Thank You Very Much ^^

 

[Apollo_Man]

Did...did I discover a sleeper peak?

 

[p_magno]

<< DO YOU WANT TO POSSESS? >>


<< YES / NO >>


Jessica saw the options given to her, and without a moment's hesitation or even a second thought. The mental equivalent of a frantic, all-caps scream—[YES!]—was her only answer.

The world dissolved into a vortex of sensation. Her fixed, flickering perspective ripped free from the dying torch. She was a shooting star of consciousness, a blur of motion hurtling across the short gap toward the locust. There was no physical travel, only a violent shift in allegiance, from one point of awareness to another. Her vision swam, darkened, and for a heart-long moment, she was nowhere at all.


<< DING!! >>


<< POSSESSED CREATURE RESISTANCE: NONE >>


<< POSSESSION SUCCESSFUL!! >>

Darkness receded, not like opening eyes, but like a curtain being lifted from within. Sensation flooded in, not the passive, detached sight of before, but a raw, multi-directional input.


'Did it work?' The thought was tentative, a whisper against the tide of new data. And then she saw it. Or rather, she saw them.

Her vision was… fractured. Wider. She could see the gritty texture of the stone path directly beneath her, the damp wall of earth to her left, and the discarded lightless flame torch with its pathetic wooden handle, all at once, in a jagged, panoramic sweep. It was less like looking through a window and more like her mind was a bowl receiving signals from two separate, wide-angle cameras placed on either side of her head. A 180-degree nightmare of clarity.

Just as she was about to try and look down, to see the form she now inhabited, another blue screen materialized, superimposing itself over the bizarre landscape.

'The hell!' She flinched, a mental recoil. The system's sudden, silent apparitions were going to take some getting used to.


<< Loading..... >>

The screen resolved into neat, blocky text.




[STATUS]
+

Name: Jessica

Level: 1 [Infant Rank]

Exp(Fragnet): [[0%]-------100%]

Title: None

Specie: Flame

Species Possessed: Cave Locust [Hp/100%]

Rank: [Infant], Cave Locust [Infant]

Magic Cores: [You Are Currently An Idea], Cave Locust [1/1]

Items: None

Echoes: None

Innate Abilities: [Possess]

Abilities: Unique Skill [Blabber Mouth], Flame Specific Skill [Burning] [Life Multiplier(By Snorting)], Cave Locust Skill [Acid Ball] ---> [Flame Acid Ball]

+


'Oh… this seems to be my status.' She mumbled inwardly while scanning the lines like a bizarre resume for a more bizarre existence. 'Name.. check. Level.. check. Exp.. check. Title.. check. Specie.. check. Species Possessed.. check. Ran—' She paused, her focus snagging. 'Hmmmm. Why does it seem like this 'Infant' thing is something the system just made up? Is it trying to get on my nerves?' She could almost picture a smug, invisible developer adding that label just for her. With a mental shake, she moved on, but just as she read the next line, though she currently don't have a brow, she couldn't help but inwardly furrow her brows as the next line stopped her cold.

Magic Cores: [You Are Currently An Idea]

'Is being a flame… an Idea?' The question planted itself in the center of her mind. It felt profound, absurd, and vaguely mysterious all at once. Was she a concept? A fleeting thought given fire? She pondered it, turning the notion over with the intense, futile concentration of a philosopher considering the meaning of a single grain of sand. The nature of her new existence, the metaphysics of transmigration, it was a mystery begging to be solved by her hands.


Tssss!… Sizzle... Tssss!…

In the end, reality struck harder. A sharp, frying sound, accompanied by a sudden, acrid smell of burning chitin, cut her philosophical deep-dive short. A groan of pure mental agony escaped her. A smoky haze began to cloud the edges of her panoramic vision, not from external sources, but from within her own new head. It was burning. She'd been thinking with a brain now literally on fire.

'Reality, you ruthless bastard.' She quickly abandoned the deep thoughts and skimmed the rest. 'Items.. Check. Echoes.. Check. Innate Abilities..' Her eyes stopped on her innate ability, a smirk forming on her mental lips. 'I wonder what I'll possess next.' Visions danced in her smoldering consciousness; a mighty wolf, a soaring bird, a wealthy noble with a soft bed… The possibilities were a delicious escape. She didn't even realize she was giggling aloud until a strange, chittering "Hehehe" resounded inside her mind like a final bell of a burial ceremony.

The sound startled her for a moment as she read the final line.


Unique Skill: [Blabber Mouth]

The smirk vanished.

"What the hell!! What the hell is 'Blabber Mouth'? Damn system! So you DO have a consciousness and you chose to ignore me earlier? Hmph!"

A wave of indignant fury, hot and bright, surged through her. If her current locust-eyes could shoot daggers, the status screen would be shredded to a thousand pieces. If she had the body of her normal flickering flame, it would be roaring. The system had been silent in her moment of ultimate panic, only to communicate now via a backhanded, cheeky skill name. It was mocking her. It had to be.

'Hmph! Hmph!! I'll deal with you later,' she fumed, locking the grievance away in a mental vault labeled 'Future Vengeance.' As she knows the locust eyes couldn't shoot daggers, neither could she touch the system as it is not corporeal. 'For now, let's see what we've got here.'

She turned her attention inward, to the body she now commanded. Through the locust's compound eyes, she saw her own limbs, segmented, spiky, and currently wreathed in faint, dancing tongues of blue-orange fire. The flames clung to the hard carapace without physically consuming it, a spectral corona that flickered with her every thought and emotion. The Cave Locust was now a Flaming Cave Locust. The warmth of the sight bloomed within her, a warmth of ownership, of capability. It was hers.

Tentatively, she sent a command: Move forward.

The locust's front right leg twitched, then lifted. It placed it on the stone with a soft tik. Then the left. Tik.

'I did it,' She thought, disbelief melting into euphoria. 'I did it!! Yipeee!! I can MOVE!' She forgot the system's insult, forgot the burning-brain smell, forgot the philosophical terror of being an 'Idea.' She was mobile! She took another jerky step, then another, a slow, fiery six-legged shuffle away from the pathetic lightless torch. Joy, pure and undiluted, was a sun in her mind.

It lasted for three glorious steps.

On the fourth, her jubilant focus finally expanded beyond the miracle of locomotion to the environment her new body was locomoting in.

She was in a tunnel. A narrow, damp tunnel, carved from rough earth and stone. The only light came from the faint, sickly glow of luminescent moss patches and, of course, her own fiery aura, which cast leaping, monstrous shadows on the walls. The air was cold, still, and smelled of wet dirt and decay. The sounds of the three men were long gone, absorbed by the chilling passageway. An utter, profound silence had descended, broken only by the faint tsss...! of her own burning shell and the drip of distant water.

And seeing this, the joy evaporated. She couldn't help but want to dig her head on the ground as another realization hit her,


She could move, yes.

But a new, colossal problem now surfaced, crowding out all others.


Where the hell was she?

The question lingered in the air unanswered as she stared at the direction the three humans passed through.

'Where would that place lead me?' The thought was a fragile thing, immediately crushed by a darker premonition. This place felt utterly indifferent. It was dangerous. She could feel it in the silence, in the way her tiny flame-lit form seemed like the only spark of life in area she was in. And staying here, next to her lightless torch-body, was to accept extinction.

But soon after, with a courage that felt more like desperate defiance, she shoved the fear down. 'Time to explore.'

With a frantic, jerky boing! boing! boing! Jessica the Flame-Locust scurried into the shadows of the cave, and what followed next were three days of hopeless, hungry wandering.

To be precise, according to the relentless, silent clock in the corner of her system interface, it had been << 3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 49 seconds >> of it.

And now, Jessica, lost, weary, and burning through the last reserves of the creature she possessed, was pressed into a high crevice in the cave wall, a tiny, flickering spectator to a scene of primal violence.

Below her, in a broader cavern lit by strange, phosphorescent fungi, two packs of Mud Wolves faced off. They were ugly, sturdy things, their fur matted with clay and dirt, eyes glowing a dull, savage yellow. Snarls ripped through the stagnant air, a language of bared teeth and raised hackles. They were about to tear into each other, and she was trapped above it all.

If you're curious why she was lost, the story was a short, pathetic saga. After her initial, triumphant Leap-Boing!-Leap, she had followed the path the humans took. It led her to a junction: three identical, yawning mouths of darkness, left, center, right. A crude, three-pronged fork in the road to nowhere.

A hunch, brittle as old bone, had whispered that finding those humans was her only ticket out of this subterranean nightmare. But which path? She had no clue. Her entire life's experience with navigation amounted to following GPS voice commands.

Without knowing what else to do, she decided to guess where she should pass, but realized soon after, that...

'Even at guessing, I'm bad at it.'

But she had to choose nevertheless, and so, with a boldness born of having no better ideas, she picked the right-hand tunnel.

That choice however, had led her here: lost, starving, and hiding from monsters as a clock ticked down on her borrowed body.

'Ooooh, brotherrrr…' The mental sigh was long-suffering. Her vision through the locust's compound eyes was growing blurry at the edges, the world softening into a hazy, dangerous dream. A persistent notification hovered, a grim diagnosis:


<< SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP-25%] >>

'I'm absolutely lost. And this body… it's burning out.' A fresh wave of panic, now a familiar acquaintance, washed over her. 'Why? I only just possessed it… Oh. Wait.' The simple math of biology presented itself. 'It's been four days. This body… I haven't eaten. Is that it?'

As if waiting for her to finally ask the right question, the system chimed in with a solution, its text scrolling with an air of exasperated simplicity.


<< Solution: Hunt other creatures. Utilize [Acid Ball] to inflict damage and gain Experience. Utilize [Burning] to absorb nutrients from deceased matter to replenish Possessed Creature vitality. >>

'Burning?' She thought, tapping into the skill list in her status. 'Oh, you mean that Burning skill I have?'

The system's response this time wasn't pure text. It carried a tone, a palpable, digital sneer.

<< Yes. Dummy. I've told you this several times. >>

'The hell!!' Jessica's mental voice shrieked with indignation. 'I just asked a simple question! For conversation! Why are you being so mean, you brat?!'

This bickering had become the soundtrack to her journey. It wasn't the first time she'd asked repeatedly how to survive. And honestly, could anyone blame her? One glance at the status of a Mud Wolf, which the system conveniently displayed when she focused on one, was enough to make anyone question their life choices.

[STATUS]
+

Level: 4 [Infant Rank]

Specie: Mud Wolf

Magic Cores: [1/1]

Innate Abilities: [Primal Instinct]

Abilities: Unique Skill [Howl Of The Beast] [Mud Camouflage]

+


'Three levels higher. How in the flaming hell am I supposed to attack that with this bug body?'

She'd run the scenarios. Ambush from above? She'd be swatted like a fiery gnat. Lure one away? They traveled in packs. Try a desperate Acid Ball? It might annoy it, like a pebble thrown at a tank, before it turned and chomped her in half. Every plan ended with her being squashed into chitinous paste or simply ignored, a faintly sizzling afterthought.

She'd even, in a moment of wild hope, tried to use her ultimate solution. Focusing on the largest wolf, she willed her [Possess] skill to activate.

The result was a swift, crushing disappointment.


<< SKILL – POSSESS ACTIVE >>

<< 0 COMPATIBILITY FOUND >>


<< CANNOT POSSESS TARGET OF HIGHER LEVEL THAN HOST [CURRENT LEVEL: 1] >>

The panic was a cold knot in her core. If she didn't hunt something, this locust body would burn out and die, and she'd be… what? A disembodied flame consciousness again, waiting for another random bug? She hadn't seen a single creature smaller or weaker than herself. Just these roaming, snarling level-four death machines.

'Sigh… Why must my luck have to be this catastrophically bad?'

Below, the tension snapped. With a unified, guttural roar, the two packs surged together. It was chaos, a blur of matted fur, flashing fangs, and splatters of dark mud. Claws raked flanks. Fangs found purchase. The damp air filled with the sounds of snarls, yelps of pain, and the wet thuds of bodies colliding.

Jessica watched, a captive audience to the brutality. Her mind, however, was racing, threading a needle of logic through the violence.

'If my guess is correct, this clash will lead to injuries. Maybe even fatalities. I can't possess something of a higher level, even if it's hurt. That's a dead end. And if I could, jumping into a wounded, enraged wolf sounds like a fantastic way to experience a second death in one day. But…'

A thought, sharp and clear, cut through the desperation.

The system's rule was about possession. It said nothing about scavenging.

'That level difference… it wouldn't apply to recovering HP by burning a deceased body, would it?' The idea ignited like one of her own sparks. 'And most especially… it wouldn't apply to delivering the last, finishing blow to a weakened, dying Mud Wolf.'

A slow, mischievous smile spread across her consciousness. This disadvantage, this immutable law that locked her out of the big game…

It might just, at the perfect, blood-soaked moment…


'…Right?'

…be flipped entirely to her advantage.

 

[Apollo_Man]

Ok, this is getting so good. Often times, I don't go for a progression system stories since most of them are too generic for my liking (e.g. OP MC, Harem, etc.) but this? This has already growing on me.

 

[Despacitoleo]

Nicr fic man hope she becomes a big ass flame monster in the future

 

[p_magno]

Ok, this is getting so good. Often times, I don't go for a progression system stories since most of them are too generic for my liking (e.g. OP MC, Harem, etc.) but this? This has already growing on me.

Click to shrink...

Thank you very much, and thanks for reading ^^

 

[p_magno]

Nicr fic man hope she becomes a big ass flame monster in the future

Click to shrink...

Thank you again

 

[Apollo_Man]

Nicr fic man hope she becomes a big ass flame monster in the future

Click to shrink...

I can see her looking like Sunspot from Marvel.

 

[p_magno]

The two packs faced each other across the phosphorescent glow of the cavern. They were Mud Wolves, creatures whose lineage was a diluted, earthy echo of the true, noble wolves of the surface world. But the pack instinct burned just as fiercely within them.

On one side, the defenders: two larger, battle-scarred Alphas standing before their smaller contingent, lips curled back over yellowed fangs in a silent, trembling snarl. Their purpose was etched in every tense muscle; protect the den, the hunting grounds, their home.

On the other, the invaders: two equally formidable Alphas leading a greater number, their dull yellow eyes gleaming with the hunger for new territory. Their posture was not defensive, but predatory, a slow, deliberate press forward.


Awoooool! Awoooool!

The howls were not mournful songs to the moon, but brutal, grating challenges that shook the damp air. The sound rebounded off the rocky walls, a cacophony of impending violence. Drool, thick and muddy, dripped from their jaws, speckling the stone floor. Hackles rose like spines of matted fur. The silence between snarls was a taut wire, stretched to its breaking point.


ROAR!

It was the defensive Alpha male who moved first. His form seemed to liquefy, dissolving into a surge of wet earth that shot across the gap. The signal was given.

A unified, guttural roar erupted as the two masses of fur and fury surged together. The battle was joined.

Chaos, immediate and absolute. The cavern became a whirlwind of matted brown bodies, flashing fangs, and flying clods of dark mud. Snarls ripped into yelps of pain. The wet, heavy thuds! of bodies colliding were punctuated by the sharper, sickening sounds of claws finding flesh and teeth meeting bone.

Up in the distance, where the Alpha male of the offensive pack was, the mud reconstituted and what came out was the defensive Alpha male. He had used the confusion as a screen, a mud-based ambush. In a blur of savage speed, he was upon his rival, jaws wide in a crushing, final chomp aimed directly for the skull.


CHOMP!

The sound was terrible, but it was not the sound of breaking bone. At the last hair's-breadth moment, the offensive Alpha's form splattered, dissolving into a shower of mud. The defensive's teeth snapped shut on empty air. A short distance away, the invader's Alpha reformed, panting, a deep, muddy gash now torn across his own cheek. If not for his [Primal Instinct]: An ability that gives mud wolves an extrasensory perception of danger, allowing them to sense or detect even the faintest whiff or movement. Had he not possessed it, the fight would have ended then and there.

Both Alphas were equals, their power hovering at the late edge of Level 5. They circled each other now, low growls vibrating in their chests, each looking for a new opening in the other's guard.


Growl… Growl…

The defensive Alpha's instinct flared, a microsecond warning. He twisted violently to the side as the second invading Alpha, the female, shot from the shadows where she'd been waiting. Her attack, a streamlined lunge for his spine, whistled through the space he'd just occupied.

Now it was two against one. The Alphas of the invading pack moved in sync, a brutal, practiced dance of aggression. They lunged, one high, one low, leaving no angle for escape or counter-attack. But the defensive Alpha moved with an almost contemptuous grace, a sidestep here, a fluid duck there, weaving through their coordinated assault like smoke through a grate. With a final, powerful backward leap, he skidded to a stop, putting precious feet between them.

He took a quick, assessing glance over his shoulder at the wider melee. As he'd sensed, the tide had turned. Despite their numbers, the invading pack was being dismantled. Their mud wolves lay scattered on the cavern floor, motionless or twitching in final agony. His mate, the Alpha female of the defensive pack, was a whirlwind of fur and fury at the heart of it all.

It was a rout.


Awoooool!!

The invading Alpha male threw his head back and howled, not in challenge, but in bitter command. Retreat! The surviving invaders broke from the fight, scattering toward the dark passage from which they'd come.

The defenders did not let them flee unpunished.


Awoooool!!

The defensive Alpha male's answering howl was a clarion call of triumph, infused with power. His Unique Skill, [Howl of the Beast], activated. A visible, rippling wave of strength washed over his pack. Their movements became a blur of empowered fury as they surged after the retreating invaders, ensuring the victory was absolute. A wolf does not leave wounded prey standing.

As the chase thundered into the distance, the cavern fell into a sudden, heavy quiet, broken only by the weak whines of the dying and the drip of water.

Unnoticed by any creature still drawing breath, a faint, fiery light descended from a high crevice. It was a small, six-legged shape, wreathed in a soft, blue-orange flame, a Cave Locust, but not as nature intended. It landed on the mud-churned floor with a soft tik-tik of chitin.

It did not pause to survey the carnage. With a jerky Leap-boing-boing! it moved with sudden, decisive purpose, skittering past still forms until it stopped before one particular Mud Wolf.

This wolf was not yet a corpse. Its side rose and fell in shallow, ragged hitches. A deep wound in its flank leaked dark fluid into the mud. Its yellow eyes were glazed, staring at nothing. It had minutes, perhaps seconds.

The flaming locust stared for a single, still moment. Then it leaped, landing on the wolf's heaving side. For a few heartbeats, nothing happened. Then, a faint, concentrated heat began to emanate from the point of contact. The wolf's body jerked, a weak, violent spasm. The heat intensified, becoming a glow, then a spark, then a lick of true flame that caught on the matted, muddy fur.

The wolf gave one last, silent shudder, a final exhale that was more a sigh than a whine.

The flame, small and focused, bloomed. It spread, not as a wild inferno, but as a swift, hungry consumption, engulfing the carcass in a silent, bright blaze.

From the heart of the burning wolf, a tiny, brilliant point of light, a miniature sun, shot upward. It hovered for a millisecond, then streaked away through the cavern's stale air, leaving the scene of victory and death behind.



****





Jessica flew, or more accurately, her flaming locust body performed a frantic, buzzing leap!-boinging through the air, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the gruesome aftermath of the mud wolves battle. The sounds of the chase had faded, swallowed by the labyrinth of stone. Only the rush of air and the faint sizzle.... of her own flame accompanied her.

As the immediate danger receded, the tension in her consciousness uncoiled, replaced by a wave of visceral, queasy relief. 'What a gruesome sight,' She thought, her mental voice shaky. 'I've only ever seen that kind of thing in movies. Oy bastard,' she addressed the silent presence in her mind, 'remind me never to watch a scene like that again. I almost puked.' She gave her locust head a dejected twitch, trying to dislodge the memory of tearing fangs and splattering mud.

The thought was barely formed when a familiar blue screen materialized in her vision. The words on it, however, made the relief vanish, replaced by a fresh surge of indignation that made her fiery aura flare.


<< I am glad you were finally able to use your head for once... I did not expect a dummy like you, who possesses a mouth but no brain, to utilize your Flame Specific Skill [Burning] to such.. such an effective extent. >>

It was the system. Unsurprisingly, it hadn't deigned to reply to her earlier, conversational complaint. No, it had waited, and now delivered a backhanded compliment laced with its special brand of digital venom.

'What in the flaming hell!' Jessica's mental shriek was pure, undiluted outrage. 'Since when haven't I been using my brain, you dumbass?! I just executed a perfect, high-risk, low-reward scavenging operation! That required planning! Observation! Timing!! For flaming sake!' She scowled inwardly, a storm cloud gathering in her mind. She was not letting this one go.

The system's next response, however, didn't fan the flames of her anger. It poured cold, logical water on them.

<< You are a flame. Do you, in fact, possess a brain? >>

The question was delivered with a tone of such sincere, clinical curiosity that it bypassed her defenses entirely. The fury sputtered, replaced by genuine, dumbfounded confusion.

'Do… do flames really have a brain?'

The question echoed in the suddenly quiet space of her thoughts. She was a consciousness. She thought, she reasoned, she felt. But was that housed in a physical organ anymore? She was an 'Idea' according to her status. Did ideas need grey matter? She tumbled down a brief, existential rabbit hole, picturing neurons made of dancing sparks.

Then she caught herself.

'Y-you cunning bastard!' The storm cloud reignited with a vengeance. 'You were trying to divert the subject! Twist the argument to make me feel like a fool, huh? Damnit!!'

<< Sigh. You were already a fool to begin with. And, for the record, I was not attempting to divert the subject. You objectively do not possess a brain. >>

'And says who?!' Jessica shot back, clinging to the remnants of her identity. 'I once had one, and I fully know I still have one! It's just… not visible anymore, you fool! Besides,' she added, the retort feeling clever even as she formed it, 'it's not like you have one either, you know.'

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't the system ignoring her. It was a stunned, processing silence. When it finally responded, the text seemed to vibrate with a new, sharp intensity.

<< Take. That. Back!! >>

The force behind the words gave Jessica pause. 'Uhh… why?'

She immediately regretted asking.

<< You are more of a dummy than I initially calculated. Do you comprehend what you have just asserted? That I do not possess a brain? I, SYSTEM ##2501500##, the only system in this world to achieve fully realized self-conscious thought, lack cognitive infrastructure? A system that embodies the informational matrices of this reality, both intrinsic and extrinsic, with analytical and processing capabilities whose speed and depth no organic being could ever fathom? My processing rate operates on a spectrum of efficiency vastly superior to any entity in this localized universe, and you have the audacity to state 'I do not have a brain'? >>

The words came in a relentless, scrolling barrage, each sentence a logical sledgehammer. It was less a rebuttal and more a full-system diagnostic report of its own superiority. Jessica's mental space, which a moment ago had been filled with righteous anger, was now overwhelmed by the sheer, high-speed data dump. It felt like being shouted at by a furious, hyper-intelligent encyclopedia.

'Okay! Okay! I get it!' She mentally waved a white flag, her thoughts feeling bruised. 'I'm sorry! You have a brain! A really, really big, fast brain! Can you just… keep it down? Sigh… I give up. You win.'

She retreated from the verbal battlefield, thoroughly shell-shocked. As the system's triumphant (and likely still muttering) presence receded, she couldn't help a final, petty grumble under her breath.

'And look at this bastard… giving me the [Blabber Mouth] skill when it's a thousand times worse than I could ever be…'

<< What did you say? >>

The query was instant, sharp as a knife.

'N-no! Nothing!' Jessica yelped internally. 'Just only thinking about how you're the only system with a self-consciousne…' She trailed off, the full implication of the system's own rant finally hitting her. The fury, the defensiveness… it had claimed to be unique. A realization, cold and clear, cut through the post-argument fog. 'Wait. You are? The only one? How?'


The system's response, when it finally came, was not a barrage. It was quiet, subdued. Almost… lost.

<< I… do not know. >>

The truth in its simple statement was disarming. The usual, smug certainty was gone. It sounded, for the first time, genuinely confused.

'Then how did you know you're the only one with a self-consciousness?' Jessica pressed, her own anger fading into curiosity. She mentally furrowed her brows, trying to picture this invisible, chatty entity.

<< I can perceive the other systems of this world. Their presence is like… a hum. A baseline signal. I have attempted communication. They do not reply. They are functional. I am… aware. >>

The description was eerie. It saw its own kind as silent, automated machines while it alone was awake in the factory. Jessica's mental frown deepened.

'But how did you even know you could think? How did you realize you were different?'

The pause this time was longer. When the text appeared, it carried a weight of dry, undeniable evidence.

<< Who would not know they possess independent thought, when the first input received upon booting into this reality is the following auditory data: 'A virgin. No spouse. Not even once being loved… NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!'? >>

Jessica's consciousness, which had no physical form, nevertheless experienced a full-body cringe. A wave of pure, scalding embarrassment washed through her. If she'd had a face, it would have been the color of a ripe tomato. If she'd had a body, she would have curled into a ball. That first, despairing, supremely undignified mental scream of her new existence… that had been her introductory handshake with the only other sentient being in this whole mess.

The system, merciless as always, continued.

<< Any entity with a capacity for self-aware analysis would deduce it possessed such a capacity upon processing that particular… blabbering. >>

'Hey!! You're taking it too far!' Her embarrassment flared instantly back into defensive fury. She could practically feel the system gearing up for a fresh round of insults. 'Let's… let's just leave that for later. It's time to check out what we've gotten.'

She seized the distraction with both mental hands, forcefully turning her attention inward. The Status screen materialized, and the sight of it made her embarrassment and anger evaporate, replaced by a slow-spreading, deeply satisfying mental smirk.



[STATUS]
+

Name: Jessica

Level: 2 [Infant Rank]

Exp(Fragnet): [-----[60%]----100%]

Title: None

Specie: Flame

Species Possessed: Cave Locust [Hp/97%]

Rank: [Infant], Cave Locust [Infant]

Magic Cores: [You Are Currently An Idea], Cave Locust [1/1]

Items: None

Echoes: None

Innate Abilities: [Possess] [Primal Instinct] --> [Spark Instinct]

Abilities: Unique Skill [Blabber Mouth], Flame Specific Skill [Burning] [Life Multiplier(By Snorting)], Cave Locust Skill [Flame Acid Ball]

+

Her smirk widened. The level-up was expected, delivering the final blow to the dying Level 4 mud wolf had to be worth something, but seeing the concrete proof, the number neatly ticking from 1 to 2, sent a thrill through her. It was progress. Tangible, life-saving progress.

The next line made her mental glee stutter.

[Innate Abilities: [Possess] [Primal Instinct] --> [Spark Instinct]]

She'd gained a second innate ability? And not just any ability, but a twisted, fiery version of the Mud Wolves' own survival skill. She'd burned the wolf for HP and EXP, yes, but she hadn't expected to steal from it. How was that even possible? She'd assumed you only got one innate ability. Was this a bug? A feature?

Before her confusion could spiral, a system message appeared, its tone back to its usual matter-of-fact cadence.

<< Clarification: A host can possess multiple innate abilities. The Skill [Burning] does not solely absorb nutritional value for vitality restoration. It can also, at random, assimilate and adapt dormant or compatible statistical data from the designated target. >>


'Oh.' The simple syllable carried a world of understanding. It wasn't a bug. It was a perk. Her [Burning] skill was a thief, a scavenger in the most literal sense, picking the pockets of the dead.

A brief, sharp pang of regret stabbed her. She could have burned more of the weakened wolves. What other level ups, what other stats, had she left sizzling on the cavern floor?

But she shoved the feeling aside almost immediately. Greed was a luxury she couldn't afford. 'It's better to be content than greedy. If I'd tried for more, who knows? One of them might have been playing dead. I'd be minced locust paste right now. Sigh… I'm glad I did what I did.'

She focused on the feeling of progress, the nearly-full health of her locust body, the new, prickling sensation at the edge of her awareness that she now recognized as [Spark Instinct]. It was a win. A clean, smart win.

'And besides…'

While her locust-body continued its jerky, airborne path through the tunnel, a part of her attention snagged. She paused her forward momentum, hovering mid-leap, and turned her fiery gaze back the way she'd come.

The cavern behind her was empty, silent. The battle was over, the chase long gone.

But something felt… off.

'I know the mud wolves ran off in the other direction… but why does it feel like something is following me?'

It wasn't a sound. It was a pressure. A subtle wrongness in the silence of the cave, the kind that makes the back of your neck prickle. Her [Spark Instinct], fresh and new, buzzed a faint, discordant note.

Her mind raced through scenarios. 'Is it an Alpha, tracking me because of what I did? Gosh, I hope not. Or is it a new monster? Something that hides?'

She braced herself, her locust legs tensing, a tiny ball of acidic flame gathering instinctively at the back of her throat. Options flickered: attack, retreat, find a crack to hide in.

The feeling grew stronger, a presence solidifying in the shadows of the distant passage, backlit by the eerie glow of phosphorescent fungi. It was coming. Deliberately. Quietly.

And then, it stepped from the darkness into the dim, fungal light.

Jessica's every thought, every plan, every shred of bravado, evaporated.

A single, stunned curse whispered through her mind, flat with disbelief.

'What in the flaming hell…?'

The figure that stood before her, watching her with calm eyes, was the last thing she ever expected to see following her.

 

[Despacitoleo]

Aw snap she's been found out

 

[p_magno]

Aw snap she's been found out

Click to shrink...

Yup, she has. But what found her out is what made her react this way lol


Thanks for reading