Now, she was ready. Her hand trembled only slightly as she slid the headset into place.
Welcome back, Dani.
The words scrawled across her HUD as she logged in, her avatar materializing in Another Life. The moment her boots touched the smooth obsidian flooring of her home base, she felt an odd sense of disorientation. She had planned to message Hexa, Byte, and Shiro—to tell them she was back, to explain what had happened—but before she could move, the world around her shimmered.
Something pulled at her, yanking her into a void of stars and fire.
A teleport command? But I haven’t…
The pull intensified. Sarah’s body dissolved into light. And then, the universe shifted. Sarah landed softly, her feet touching the ground in a world unlike anything she had ever seen before.
The air was thick with warmth, not the stifling kind, but the kind that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. The scent of freshly baked bread, cinnamon, and honey filled her lungs, making her stomach twist with longing. The world around her was golden, glowing, as if perpetually caught in the embered light of dawn.
Massive fire-lit hearths lined the space, their flames dancing unnaturally—alive, sentient. She stood on a stone-paved terrace, overlooking an endless expanse of rolling amber fields where flames licked at the sky but never consumed. The sky was a deep crimson-gold, like the last moments of a sunset stretched infinitely across the heavens.
At the heart of it all, nestled between colossal fire-kissed pillars, was a baker’s hearth, massive and ornate, its bricks adorned with ancient engravings of flames, wheat, and figures in flowing robes.
And standing before it—A woman wreathed in fire.
Vesta.
Her presence was undeniable, radiating an aura of warmth and command. Her robes shimmered like molten gold, and her hair flowed like cascading embers, each strand moving as if alive. She was both maternal and untouchable, kind but brimming with power.
Sarah's breath caught. She felt Vesta more than she saw her. This wasn’t just an NPC. This was something else.
"Daughter of Fire," Vesta’s voice was smooth, rich, eternal. It rang through the air, a song of warmth and command.
Sarah swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of her own insignificance.
"You have come to learn, but first—you must understand."
With a simple gesture, the world shifted.
The terrace melted away, and Sarah found herself standing on a floating platform suspended above a lake of fire. The flames below moved unnaturally, forming shapes, patterns—stories.
Vesta’s golden gaze locked onto her.
"Tell me, child, do you know what it means to wield fire?"
Sarah licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry.
"Destruction?" she offered hesitantly.
Vesta smiled, but it wasn’t just amusement—it was understanding.
"That is what many believe," she said, lifting her hand. A small flame bloomed at her fingertips, twisting and flickering.
"But fire is more than destruction. It is life. It is hearth. It is the warmth of home and the hunger of ambition. It is the beacon in the dark and the blade in battle."
The flame danced in her palm, growing into a blooming lotus of pure flame.
"To wield it, you must learn control. For without control…"
With a flick of her wrist, the fire expanded violently—Sarah barely had time to react before a wall of flame engulfed her.
She screamed, flinching, raising her arms—But she wasn’t burning. The flames licked at her body, hot but not consuming. It wasn’t pain, but pressure. And then—a surge. She felt it. Something inside her, something awakening.
"Fire is not tamed through will alone, but through understanding. Feel it, Daughter of Fire. Become it."
For ten days—though it was only half a day on Earth—Sarah trained under Vesta’s watchful eye.
The moment Sarah stepped into Vesta’s domain, she felt the shift in reality. It wasn’t just a place—it was alive.
The air shimmered with warmth, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread and burning embers. Towering golden hearths lined the horizon, their flames dancing with an energy that felt almost sentient. The ground beneath her feet was black volcanic stone, radiating gentle heat, as if the world itself breathed fire.
Vesta stood before her, tall and radiant, clothed in robes of flickering embers and gold-threaded silk. She extended a hand, and a small flame ignited at her palm, dancing effortlessly in her grasp.
“Fire is not tamed through will alone, but through understanding. Feel it, Daughter of Fire. Become it.”
Sarah swallowed. This was it. The first step.
She lifted her hand and concentrated.A single flicker of fire sputtered into existence—and immediately died.Vesta watched, unbothered. “Again.”
Sarah tried. Again. And again. And again. By the time the day ended, she could barely summon more than a brief spark. Her frustration burned hotter than the fire she failed to wield.
“You hesitate.” Vesta’s voice was calm but firm. She sat on the edge of a massive stone hearth, absently kneading dough between her fingers as she watched Sarah struggle.
Sarah gritted her teeth. Sweat dripped down her temple as she forced the flames to form a shape in the air before her. But it wouldn’t hold.
The moment she lost focus, the fire flickered out, leaving only the mocking hiss of steam against her fingertips. She clenched her fists. “Why is this so hard? I know how to code fire spells! I’ve been doing it for years.”
Vesta arched a brow. “And yet you do not know fire at all.” She gestured to the loaves of perfectly golden bread resting beside her. “Did you know fire can bake, just as it can burn? That it can warm, just as it can destroy?”
Sarah frowned, watching as Vesta carefully pulled one of the loaves apart, steam escaping in delicate wisps.
“It is not merely a force of destruction, Daughter of Fire. If you wish to shape it, you must understand all its forms.”
Sarah inhaled sharply. And for the first time, she saw the fire not as an enemy—but as something alive.
The first time she held fire steady in her palm, she thought she’d finally won.
Then it almost burned her hand off.
Sarah yelped, flinging the flame away before it could consume her fingers. The fire struck a distant lava pool and hissed into oblivion.
Vesta barely looked up from where she was carving symbols into stone nearby.
“You are trying to force it. Control is not about caging fire. It is about guiding it.”
Sarah exhaled through her nose, shoulders tensed. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a goddess.”
Vesta actually smirked at that. “I was not always.”
Sarah blinked. “Wait—what?”
Vesta stood, dusting off her hands. “Another lesson for another time. For now, try again.”
Sarah hesitated, then lifted her hands once more. The fire returned, warmer this time, no longer lashing out in wild defiance. It lingered. Listened. And for the first time—she felt it listen back.
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By the seventh day, the fire had become part of her. She no longer needed to force it into being. It responded to her emotions, flickering brighter when her confidence surged, dimming when doubt crept in. She could summon it in a heartbeat. But wielding it still required restraint.
“You must learn to wield it not just with your hands, but with your soul,” Vesta said as she led Sarah to a grand hall where the walls flickered with living flames.
Sarah frowned. “Soul? That sounds a little intense.”
Vesta merely gestured to the fire lining the walls. “Observe.”
Sarah watched. At first, it seemed like normal fire, but the more she looked, the more she realized—it was responding to Vesta. When Vesta moved, the flames followed. When she exhaled, they pulsed in sync. It wasn’t just about control. It was about harmony. Sarah’s breath caught. This wasn’t just fire. This was power.
The moment she stepped onto the training grounds that day, she felt it. Something was different. The fire no longer fought her. It no longer flickered or resisted or burned too bright. It simply was. She lifted her hand. And the flames rose with her.
They curled around her fingertips, warm but not scalding, responding not just to her commands but to her intent. She stepped forward—and the fire stepped with her. She exhaled, and it pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Sarah slowly closed her fist. And the fire vanished, obediently, as if it had never been. Vesta watched in satisfied silence. Finally, she spoke.
“You are ready.”
Sarah stood at the center of a vast chamber, the largest she had seen yet in Vesta’s domain.
Around her, pillars of flame erupted from the earth, forming a circle of fire that flickered in time with her breath. Vesta stood just beyond the ring, her expression unreadable.
“One final test.”
Sarah straightened. “What is it?”
Vesta lifted her hand—and the fire surged forward. It came at Sarah all at once—a tidal wave of pure heat, ready to consume her whole. Her instincts screamed at her to run. But she didn’t. She closed her eyes. And she felt it. Not as an enemy.
Not as something to tame. But as an extension of herself. Sarah exhaled. And instead of resisting the flames—She became them.
The fire engulfed her, wrapping around her limbs, cascading down her form like a living armor of molten gold. And for the first time—She didn’t burn. She was fire. When Sarah opened her eyes, she stood transformed.
Her hands glowed with embers, her armor pulsed with a golden hue, and when she stepped forward, the fire beneath her parted like a living tide.
Vesta smiled.
“Now you are truly my Daughter of Fire.”
Sarah felt lighter than she had in years. Stronger. More herself than ever before. She became the fire. She stood in the center of Vesta’s grand terrace, flames coiling around her arms like living threads, flickering between her fingers as if they were an extension of her own being.
The fear? Gone. The hesitation? Burned away. Sarah exhaled, watching as the flames retracted, settling beneath her skin like an ember waiting to ignite. She had never felt this kind of power before. She had never felt this alive. Vesta stood before her, arms crossed, with a look of satisfaction in her golden gaze. Then, she gestured toward the sky, and Sarah felt the familiar pull of a teleport command.
"Go now, Daughter of Fire. Your true battle awaits."
The world shifted. Sarah’s vision blurred. And in the next instant— She was back. Sarah’s avatar materialized at the edge of the competition grounds. The air was buzzing with energy—contestants, spectators, and developers crowded the area, preparing for the event of the year. She clenched her fists, feeling the heat simmer beneath her skin.
I am ready, and nothing—not Mackiaveli, or Welsby III—Will stop me.
Dani materialized just outside the Colosseum of Code, the grand arena where the tournament would be held. The air hummed with energy—a mixture of tension, excitement, and the unmistakable crackle of digital power.
Massive pillars of swirling data and neon fire lined the entrance, giving way to an open-air amphitheater so vast that the sky itself seemed to be a part of the design. Floating banners displayed live feeds of ongoing fights, while a translucent scoreboard updated in real time with names and statistics.
The arena itself was divided into multiple battlegrounds, suspended at various heights in a spiraled formation.
- The outermost rings held the early battles—the preliminary skirmishes for amateurs looking to break into the professional scene.
- The mid-tier platforms were where the 2v2s and 3v3s would take place, a proving ground before facing the tournament's real contestants.
- The inner sanctum held the final stage—a monolithic platform at the center of it all, where the final fights would be waged in full view of thousands of spectators.
Dani adjusted the fit of her battle gear—sleek obsidian armor with faint crimson runes pulsing beneath the surface. Every piece of it was designed for maximum agility and spell efficiency, and attached to it were the scripts she had meticulously refined in her private void.
She had three days of training, ten days with Vesta, and years of experience. And yet, her chest still felt tight. Time to focus. She opened her private chat.
Dani (Private Chat): “I’m here. Where are you guys?”
A moment later, her HUD pinged.
Hexa (Private Chat): “Took you long enough. Look to your left.”
Dani turned and spotted them standing at the edge of the observation deck, leaning against the railing that overlooked the early round fights. She strode over, but before she could say anything, Byte was already typing.
Byte: “Okay, but I still can’t beleive that we saw some first-hand, next-level god-tier flexing. The way Zeus handled Welsby was OP”
Shiro: “Handled? Bro, he deleted him from existence.”
Hexa: “I don’t even know what to think. The way he spoke… like, does he think he’s actually Zeus?”
Dani barely registered their words. Her thoughts were still tangled between Mackiaveli, Zeus, Steve, and the impossible mess of it all. She kept staring at her HUD display where the system had logged her new elemental status
Fire
The moment Zeus had placed that ornate box in her hands, the connection had seared into her character data like it had always belonged there. And when Vesta had appeared—
No. I don't think I am ready to unpack that yet.
Dani (Private Chat): “It doesn’t matter. We need to focus on the tournament.”
As they talked, the mass melee rounds were already underway. Hundreds of lower-ranked players clashed in massive free-for-all matches, fighting for their place in the next phase of the tournament. From their elevated viewpoint, Dani and her friends watched as spells, weapons, and combat scripts illuminated the night sky like fireworks.
Byte: “It’s absolute chaos down there.”
Shiro: “It’s supposed to be. This round weeds out the ones who don’t know what they’re doing.”
The rules were simple:
- The last four players standing in each of the four free-for-all platforms would advance.
- Those four would then be split into teams of two and forced to fight in 2v2 elimination matches.
- The winners of those three rounds would face off in a final set of team battles, until the last four individuals remained.
And those four would finally face the real contestants. Dani folded her arms as she watched the chaos unfold. Some players fought like warriors, dodging and countering attacks with ease. Others scrambled and failed, falling victim to their own inexperience. Vessa arrived just as one of the matches ended.
Vessa (World Chat): “So. This is where you’ve been hiding.”
Dani turned toward her, catching sight of the emerald-skinned warrior, her armored coat draped over her shoulders like a queen surveying the battlefield.
Hexa (Private Chat): “You’re late.”
Vessa (Private Chat): “I like to make an entrance.”
Dani exhaled, forcing herself to stay neutral.
Dani (Private Chat): “What do you know about these matches?”
Vessa smirked.
Vessa: “More than most. These rounds are designed to simulate real war strategies. Not just brute force.” She gestured toward the battlefield, where the last eight players were being divided into teams.
Vessa: “See that? The winners don’t always pick their teammates. The judges do. They’re looking for adaptability. If you can’t fight with someone unexpected, you won’t make it.”
Dani nodded slowly. It made sense.
Vessa: “Watch this next fight. This is where things start getting serious.”
They turned their focus back to the matches as the 2v2 elimination rounds began. The first team featured a duelist with dual blades and a sorcerer specializing in teleportation spells. Their opponents? A heavy-armored tank and a shadow assassin. The match began with an explosive clash of speed versus resilience.
- The duelist darted in and out, striking at precise points while his sorcerer partner teleported between vantage points, launching arcane bombardments.
- The tank absorbed damage, buying time for the assassin to move unseen in the battlefield’s shadows.
For a moment, it seemed like the duelist team had the upper hand. Then the assassin struck. One perfectly timed backstab and the sorcerer was gone. Without his partner, the duelist fought hard—but alone, he fell. The crowd erupted.
Vessa: “Brutal. But effective.”
Dani barely blinked. This was exactly the kind of ruthlessness she expected.
The next fight introduced a wildcard—a coding expert who had modified her spells to behave unpredictably. Her opponents? A group of combat specialists who relied on scripted counters. It was a battle of precision vs. adaptability. At first, the coders seemed to fumble against the practiced precision of their foes. Then, lines of script appeared mid-fight, changing the rules in real-time.
- Spells that should have staggered the enemy instead pulled them forward.
- Shields that should have blocked redirected energy back to the attacker.
The audience gasped as the specialists—despite their talent—fell one by one.
Vessa: “That’s what happens when you rely too much on pre-written scripts.”
Dani’s fingers twitched at her sides. This. This was the level of strategy she needed to be at. The last match was pure spectacle. Two bruisers against two speed-based fighters. It was sheer destruction vs. relentless agility. Spells and weapons collided mid-air, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. One of the speed fighters fell early, and it became a 1v2 brawl.
Yet against all odds—the last standing fighter held out. Until he didn’t. Dani inhaled deeply. She could already feel the fire coiling inside her. She was ready. And when she looked at the final four standing on the battlefield—she knew.
Her first opponent was going to be one of her greatest challenges.
This is part of a series of stories that have lived solely in my head for many years, and I’ve finally started writing them as serialized fiction books. If you think the story sucks, feel free to tell me—it’s all part of the process. That said, I’m also looking for constructive criticism, so any suggestions are welcome and will be considered as I work to improve the series.