The night bled into silence. Smoke drifted above the undercity ruins as Ronak stumbled through the maze of abandoned tunnels — hunted, exhausted, half afraid of himself. His heart still buzzed with unstable energy, every breath flickering between warmth and frost.
Then he heard it — footsteps. Calm. Certain.
He spun, a pulse of fire sparking from his palm.
A man stepped into the faint light of a broken street lamp. His armor was scarred and dull, his cape torn by time, but his presence burned like a star that refused to die.
"You've been running from something inside you," the man said, his voice deep, calm, measured. "But it doesn't work that way. The storm follows you because you are the storm."
Ronak's pulse spiked.
"Who are you? Another agent?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Once, they called me Ultra Man. Now, I'm just Urja."
The name hit Ronak like lightning. Ultra Man — the lost hero of the Storm Wars, the legend every child in Future Pride grew up watching before he vanished. The man who could channel the planet's core itself.
"You... you're supposed to be dead," Ronak whispered.
"So are you," Urja replied, eyes glinting. "But here we are."
He stepped closer. The air around him shimmered, warm and steady — unlike the chaotic energy that burned through Ronak.
"The plasma storm that struck you wasn't random. It was a breach — a tear between the layers of creation. What hit you was the ALL IN ONE — the primal force that birthed every element this universe knows. Fire, water, earth, light, electricity, dark... all are fragments of that one energy. You carry the source itself."
Ronak's voice trembled.
"Then why does it feel like it's killing me?"
"Because it's not meant to be contained. It's meant to be guided."
Urja's tone softened, almost fatherly.
"Power isn't light or dark, Ronak. It's the flame inside you. Brightest when you control it — deadliest when you don't."
That night, in the hollow of a broken power plant deep below the city, Ronak began his training.
Urja's methods were relentless. He made Ronak stand beneath waterfalls of coolant fluid, forcing him to channel water's calm instead of drowning in it. He hurled shards of plasma toward him, teaching him to catch fire without fear. He shut the lights off for hours, making Ronak feel the pulse of darkness — not as an enemy, but as balance.
Days blurred into nights. Ronak's body ached, his mind fractured under the weight of too many forces wrestling within him. But something inside began to shift — the chaos started to obey.
One evening, as Urja stood watching, Ronak raised his hand, and the air around him shimmered. Fire and lightning intertwined into a steady orb that pulsed gently like a heart. For the first time, it didn't explode.
Urja smiled.
"Good. You're not fighting it anymore. You're listening."
Ronak exhaled, the energy fading softly from his skin.
"I still feel like I'm going to burn apart."
"You will," Urja said. "Until you stop fearing the fire."
Later, as the two sat by a dim reactor vent, Urja handed him a small metallic crest, etched with an ancient symbol — a spiral of six intersecting lines.
"Every wielder of elemental balance carried this mark," Urja said. "But none survived the burden for long. You might."
"Why me?" Ronak asked.
Urja's gaze drifted toward the faint lights of the city above.
"Because the energy chose you. And because this world... it's losing its light. The heroes of today fight for cameras, not for people. Maybe it's time for something real to rise again — a flame that can burn away the shadows."
Ronak looked down at his hands — scarred, trembling, glowing faintly.
"A flame..."
Urja nodded.
"You'll need a name for it — something that reminds you who you are when the power tries to own you."
The words came to Ronak like instinct, born from every spark that had both saved and cursed him.
"Ignis."
Urja smiled, faintly, the firelight dancing in his eyes.
"Fitting. The flame that will one day ignite the world."
Outside, the city of Future Pride slept under false peace. But far beyond the skyline, within the Department of Meta Affairs' control tower, red alarms began to pulse.
"We found them," said an agent, eyes locked on the energy readings. "Two signatures — the lost reactor and the Ghost of Darkness. Both alive."
And high above the clouds, something ancient stirred — drawn to the return of the ALL IN ONE.
The world was watching.
And Ignis was only just beginning to burn.