Hunger in the Indigo Rift did not come from the stomach.

  It came from memory.

  Arthian sat leaning against broken power layer ruins. His new body still trembled periodically. Not from cold, but because recovering nerves were "reclaiming territory."

  When power in his chest increased, the first thing that returned was not beautiful memories.

  But burn marks.

  One image flashed. Not clear. Not complete.

  The Static crystal.

  The object that once responded to his rhythm alone. Now still. Lifeless still. Not because it broke, but because it no longer accepted him.

  In the past, that image would have made him freeze. Made his heart contract. Raised questions.

  But in the Indigo Rift, this body responded differently.

  The cold point in his chest flared hot. Not anguished pain, but burning—like flesh seared by live coals without permission.

  Arthian clenched his fist.

  Static Flow around him grew turbulent. Rotten energy fragments in the air began trembling as though stirred by something that should not exist.

  He understood immediately.

  Memory here did not function to "revisit the past." It functioned as catalyst.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  An image of Lumis flashed. Not a smile. Not a gentle gaze. But the rhythm when she said,

  "Light."

  One word. But it made the burn in his chest spread.

  Light meant not having to bear shared weight. Meant letting someone else carry instead. Then calling it "calm."

  The burn flared. Not from hatred, but from revulsion.

  Arthian breathed in. Deep. Slow.

  Energy around him began being absorbed. Not because he pulled, but because the emptiness within no longer refused it.

  And in that very moment, movement from the shadows appeared.

  Not one. But many.

  Dry footsteps struck power ground. Not cautious. Not hidden.

  The scavengers. Those who lived by excavating. By seizing. By tearing apart what was weaker.

  Karn was among them. But not at the front. He had learned this piece "should not be touched first."

  Multiple shadow figures surrounded him. Eyes parched and desperate. Intent naked. They did not speak because it was unnecessary. In the Indigo Rift, asking was extravagance.

  One of them lunged forward. Fast. Hungry. A withered hand grabbed toward Arthian's chest, trying to "siphon."

  And in that moment, Arthian opened.

  Not opening power. Not opening defense. But opening emptiness.

  The cold point in his chest expanded. Not forceful, but deep. Static Flow in the already-decayed enemy body was pulled back—like water flowing into an endless pit.

  The scavenger froze. Eyes widened. No scream. No explosion. That body simply "collapsed."

  Flesh. Power. Will. Sucked out. Leaving only worthless energy dust falling to the ground.

  Arthian inhaled.

  And for the first time, he felt the word satiated. Not comfortable satiation, but dense, heavy, solid satiation.

  The cold point in his chest brightened slightly. Not light, but density.

  0.05% surged to 1%

  The remaining scavengers scrambled back. Hunger transformed into fear.

  Karn retreated as far as possible. The sight before him did not match the laws he knew. This was not prey. This was a void that ate predators.

  Arthian stood up. Slow. More stable than the body should manage.

  He looked at them. Not with malice. Not with superiority. But looked like looking at broken mechanisms.

  Karn met his eyes for a split second before turning to flee. Not waiting for companions. Not thinking of helping anyone.

  In the Indigo Rift, those who saw first survived first.

  Shadow figures vanished into darkness. Leaving only energy dust and silence heavier than before.

  Arthian sat down again. Did not chase. Did not follow.

  He now understood that the past need not be forgotten. It must be burned. Burned until it became a scar reminding him that trust without weight was the beginning of being devoured.

  In the Rift's silence, something began spreading. Not a name. Not legend. But a silent warning.

  There was something in the Indigo Rift that should not be siphoned and should not be touched.

  Arthian closed his eyes. The cold point in his chest beat slowly. More steadily.

  He did not want revenge. Did not want to prove anything.

  He simply wanted to build a system that would not allow the same stupidity to occur again. Not because he "forgave," but because petty revenge was too small.

  His goal was to erase everything that ever hurt him from the equation of reality.

  And the Indigo Rift had just begun to understand that something had started truly "hungering."

  (End of Chapter 17)