"Orr, attack!"
Marcus pointed toward the flower bed in the corner of the training facility, his voice carrying the familiar tone of command that had become second nature over the years. The small garden patch, usually a splash of vibrant color against the sterile metal walls, was about to become the latest test subject for his newest acquisition.
The moment Orr received the command, the Taxon sentinel responded with mechanical precision. A brilliant blue light suddenly blazed to life at the core of the floating drone, its energy signature humming through the air with an almost musical quality. The four wing-like appendages that gave the Taxon its distinctive silhouette began to glow in sequence, each one building up power like a symphony reaching its crescendo.
Marcus watched with keen interest as the energy build-up reached its peak. He'd been curious about the Akris Ice Beam's capabilities ever since integrating it into Orr's weapon systems, but theoretical knowledge was no substitute for practical demonstration.
Four concentrated beams of brilliant blue energy erupted from each wing simultaneously, their paths converging with mathematical precision. The beams merged into a single devastating torrent of frozen death, striking the unsuspecting flower bed with the force of a miniature blizzard compressed into pure destructive energy.
The transformation was immediate and spectacular. The once-lush green foliage began to freeze at a rate visible to the naked eye, as if time itself was being rewritten in reverse. Leaves that had been soft and supple moments before became brittle as glass, their cellular structure crystallizing under the assault of absolute zero temperatures. The air itself seemed to recoil from the attack, creating visible distortions as moisture flash-froze into glittering particles.
Then came the sound – a delicate, almost musical tinkling as the frozen plant matter began to shatter. Each fragment that broke away released small puffs of super-cooled vapor, creating an ethereal mist that drifted lazily through the air like ghostly dancers celebrating the destruction.
"Not bad at all," Marcus murmured, nodding his approval as he surveyed the devastation. The entire flower bed had been transformed into an abstract ice sculpture, every detail preserved in crystalline perfection before being systematically destroyed.
Through his connection with Orr, he could feel the weapon's performance metrics flowing through his consciousness. The Akris Ice Beam's destructive potential had been significantly amplified by the Taxon's four-wing configuration. What should have been a simple freezing attack had been elevated into something far more devastating – a combination of ultra-low temperature assault followed by concentrated energy beams that pulverized the frozen targets into harmless fragments.
"Commander, attack sequence completed," Orr's synthesized voice reported with characteristic efficiency. "Next attack cycle will be available in ten seconds."
Even as the sentinel spoke, Marcus could see ice crystals beginning to form around the weapon's discharge points. Tiny formations of frozen condensation were already accumulating on the wing tips, growing larger with each passing moment. It was one of the Akris Ice Beam's most significant drawbacks – the weapon's own attacks were so cold that they threatened to freeze the firing mechanism itself.
Each shot required a brief warming period to prevent ice buildup from damaging the delicate energy focusing arrays. It was a limitation that could prove fatal in prolonged combat, but the trade-off in raw stopping power made it worthwhile for specific tactical situations.
"That's enough for now, Orr," Marcus said, waving off the planned second volley. "I just wanted to see what it could do. No point wasting energy on overkill."
The practical demonstration had given him everything he needed to know about the weapon's capabilities and limitations. In the right circumstances, the Akris Ice Beam could be devastatingly effective. Against multiple targets or in sustained firefights, however, its cooling requirements would become a serious tactical concern.
With the weapon test concluded, Marcus turned his attention back to the matter that had been occupying most of his thoughts for the past several days. His Ember frame had been undergoing a transformation unlike anything he'd experienced before, and the process was finally nearing completion.
For weeks now, Ember had been gradually integrating the stolen power of the Eternal Fire and the dimensional authority wrested from the Flame King. The process had been slow, methodical, and at times almost painful as the frame's very essence was rewritten at the molecular level. But now, after all this time, the transformation was reaching its climax.
The changes were already visible on the frame's surface. Gone were the distinctive flame-like patterns that had once decorated Ember's armor plating, replaced by something far more dramatic. A single, brilliant flame now danced perpetually on the frame's forehead, writhing and flickering with hypnotic intensity. The flame seemed to possess a life of its own, sometimes flaring brighter, sometimes dimming to barely a whisper, but never fully extinguishing.
The rest of the frame had undergone an even more radical transformation. What had once been the recognizable red and gold color scheme of standard Ember armor was now a deep, charcoal black that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The surface had a matte finish that made it look almost like burned carbon, as if the entire frame had been subjected to temperatures so intense that the very metal had been fundamentally altered.
Only the metallic decorative elements provided any relief from the somber coloration, and even these were changing as Marcus watched. What had started as simple functional details embedded in the armor's surface were gradually extending outward, growing more elaborate and ornate with each passing hour.
"This final fusion is taking forever," Marcus muttered, checking his internal chronometer for what felt like the hundredth time. "How much longer can this possibly take?"
He'd been expecting the transformation to complete hours ago, but the process seemed determined to take its own sweet time. The frame was clearly on the verge of some major breakthrough – he could feel the power building within it like pressure behind a dam – but that final step remained frustratingly elusive.
As if summoned by his impatience, four objects suddenly materialized in the air around him. Marcus recognized them immediately as Aya Essences, but these were unlike any he'd seen before. Instead of their usual golden glow, these essences pulsed with a brilliant blue radiance that seemed to penetrate straight through to his soul. They circled him slowly, almost reverently, as if waiting for some predetermined signal.
"What the hell?" Marcus spun around, trying to track all four essences as they continued their orbital dance. "What are you waiting for?"
He'd never seen Aya Essences behave like this before. Usually, they either merged with him immediately or remained inert until called upon. This hovering, anticipatory behavior was completely unprecedented, and frankly a little unnerving.
"These are the last five Aya Essences I have in reserve," he said aloud, more to hear his own voice than because anyone was listening. "If something goes wrong now..."
The thought was cut short as void energy suddenly erupted around him, responding to some signal he hadn't consciously given. The familiar sensation of his frame materializing washed over him as the temperature in the room began to climb rapidly. But this time, something was different.
Ember appeared around him in a cascade of fire and shadow, but the transformation wasn't stopping at the usual integration point. The frame continued to evolve, its surface rippling and changing as new elements manifested from nowhere. The flame on its forehead burned brighter, shifting from its previous yellow hue toward something more intense, more primal.
The moment the fully transformed Ember frame stabilized around him, the four circling Aya Essences suddenly dove inward like moths drawn to a flame. Marcus barely had time to register their movement before they plunged directly into the armor, disappearing into the metal as if it were liquid rather than solid.
"Wait, what are you—" he began, but the protest died on his lips as power unlike anything he'd ever experienced flooded through the frame.
The decorative metallic elements that had been slowly extending from the armor's surface suddenly exploded into motion. What had been simple ornamental details transformed into elaborate, flowing golden filigree that seemed to move with a life of its own. The patterns grew more complex by the second, extending outward in graceful spirals and geometric forms that defied easy description.
The flame on Ember's forehead pulsed once, twice, then suddenly shifted color entirely. The warm yellow glow deepened through orange, then red, then into something beyond the normal spectrum. When it finally stabilized, the flame had become a brilliant cyan that seemed to burn with the intensity of a star's core.
But the most dramatic change was yet to come. As more golden ornaments manifested across the frame's surface, they began to expand at an exponential rate. What had started as delicate decorative touches grew into massive sculptural elements that extended far beyond the armor's original boundaries.
Marcus found himself at the center of a rapidly growing golden shell as the ornaments continued to expand and multiply. The delicate filigree work became thick, protective barriers that curved around him like the petals of some enormous metallic flower. Layer upon layer of golden material accumulated, each new addition more elaborate than the last.
Within minutes, he was completely enclosed within what could only be described as a giant golden egg. The surface was covered in intricate flame patterns that seemed to move and dance even though they were carved from solid metal. It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure – a chrysalis fit for a god, or perhaps a tomb for one who had reached too far.
"Commander?" Orr's voice penetrated the golden shell, though the words seemed to come from very far away. "Are you requiring assistance?"
Marcus tried to respond, but found that he couldn't speak. He wasn't suffocated – somehow, he could still breathe perfectly well within the confines of the golden egg – but his voice seemed to have been temporarily stolen. All he could do was wait and trust that whatever was happening was supposed to happen.
Orr, meanwhile, maintained its position nearby but made no move to intervene. Its sensors were registering power levels that exceeded anything in its database, but all readings indicated that Marcus was not in immediate danger. The sentinel's programming prioritized following its commander's orders above all else, and since no orders had been given to break him free, it would wait.
Time passed – minutes, maybe hours. Marcus had lost all sense of temporal flow within the egg's confines. He could feel the transformation continuing around him, sense the fundamental restructuring of not just his frame but his very connection to the void itself. Power flowed through him in ways he'd never imagined possible, rewriting the basic parameters of his existence.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the process started to reverse. The golden shell that had enclosed him began to dissolve, not breaking apart but simply fading away like morning mist. The material didn't fall to the ground or disappear entirely – instead, it seemed to be absorbed back into the frame itself, integrating with the armor's structure on a molecular level.
As the last of the golden cocoon dissipated, Marcus stood revealed in his new form. The transformation was complete, and the result was breathtaking.
Ember was gone. In its place stood something that transcended the original frame's limitations entirely. The deep black base coloration remained, but now it was accented with veins of living gold that pulsed with inner light. The ornamental elements that had grown so dramatically during the cocooning process had been refined and integrated into the frame's structure, creating a suit of armor that looked more like a work of art than a tool of war.
The flame on the forehead still burned with that brilliant cyan light, but now it seemed to serve as the focal point for power that flowed throughout the entire frame. Channels of energy were visible beneath the surface, creating patterns that resembled circuitry designed by angels.
As Marcus became aware of his new capabilities, information flooded his consciousness. The frame's designation had changed, reflecting its elevated status:
Ember Prime [Sacred Suit ·Incomplete]
"Sacred Suit grade," Marcus breathed, finally finding his voice again. "So that's how it works."
The knowledge came with the transformation, downloaded directly into his understanding like a software update. Prime frames – Sacred Suit grade armor – couldn't be crafted or built through normal means. They had to be born through transformation, evolved from their base forms through a process of integration and metamorphosis.
But such evolution required more than just power or will. It demanded something far more precious and rare: Royal Grade Aya Essence.
The distinction was crucial. Regular Aya Essence was simply concentrated energy, a distillation of power that could enhance and modify existing capabilities. Royal Grade Aya Essence, however, contained something far more valuable – dimensional authority itself.
During his battle with the Flame King, Marcus had done more than simply defeat his opponent and steal his power. In the process of that victory, he'd also claimed a fragment of the dimensional authority that the Flame King had wielded over his own realm. It was that authority, combined with the stolen power of the Eternal Fire, that had attracted the Aya Essences and transformed them into Royal Grade variants.
But therein lay the problem. The fragment of authority he'd claimed had been small, barely a sliver of what the Flame King had originally possessed. As a result, while the transformation had been successful, it remained incomplete. Ember Prime was powerful beyond anything he'd previously wielded, but it was also fundamentally limited by the insufficient authority that had fueled its creation.
"Incomplete," Marcus repeated the designation, tasting the word like something bitter. "The frame is incredible, but it's still not reaching its full potential."
He could feel the truth of it in every fiber of the armor's being. Ember Prime was like a race car running on half its cylinders – impressive by normal standards, but falling short of its true capabilities. To unlock the frame's complete power, he would need more dimensional authority. Much more.
"Which means I need to take over the Flame King's territory entirely," he concluded, the implications of that realization settling over him like a weight.
It wasn't enough to have defeated his enemy and claimed his power. To truly complete Ember Prime's transformation, Marcus would have to conquer the Flame Dimension itself, claim every scrap of authority that the dead king had once wielded, and integrate it all into his own growing empire of controlled realities.
The task ahead was daunting. Dimensional conquest was not something to be undertaken lightly, and the Flame Dimension would undoubtedly have defenses and guardians that would make the Flame King himself look like a minor obstacle. But the potential rewards were equally massive.
As he contemplated the challenges ahead, the Sacred Suit armor began to shift and change once more. The elaborate decorative elements folded inward, compacting themselves until they formed a second skin that perfectly matched his human proportions. The transformation was seamless, and when it was complete, Marcus looked exactly as he always had – except for his eyes, which now held tiny reflections of that cyan flame.
"The Flame Dimension?" he said aloud, his voice carrying new harmonics that hadn't been there