The sky was on fire.
Mount Zephyros, the Heart of Flame, split open with a scream that echoed across continents. Ash rained like snow, and lightning tore the heavens asunder.
At the mountain's peak, surrounded by a dying storm of magic and wrath, the god Aurex stood — wings fractured, one horn broken, his body scorched by voidsteel.
He was dying.
But he stood tall, one last time.
Before him loomed Ravon Draak, the First Betrayer, draped in black armor forged from the bones of fallen wyrms. Shadows curled around him like living serpents.
"You were never a god," Ravon spat. "Just a fool who believed in harmony."
Aurex's burning eyes did not waver.
"And you were once my son."
Ravon's jaw clenched.
In one motion, the betrayer surged forward. Their blades clashed — one of searing flame, the other of abyssal darkness.
The sky cracked again. Earth quaked. Titans fell.
They fought across mountaintops, through the skies, across the great rift that split the world. Every strike from Aurex scorched the heavens. Every blow from Ravon extinguished stars.
And then — silence.
Aurex faltered.
The final blow came not with triumph… but sorrow.
Ravon's blade pierced Aurex's chest. Flames burst outward, consuming everything for miles. But Aurex did not scream.
He looked to the stars — and smiled.
"Flame does not die.It only waits… to be reborn."
And with that, the last Dragon God fell.
But…
Deep within the ruins of the shattered realm…
A flicker remained.
A dying ember.
It drifted across lands scorched and forgotten. Through cursed wind and broken magic. Through centuries of silence.
Until it reached a boy. Alone. Hollow. Lost.
And in him, it whispered.
"Rise…"