The ground didn't welcome us.
It punished us.
We hit hard—hard enough that the impact rattled through my skull and knocked the air clean out of my chest. Dirt exploded upward. Gravel scraped my cheek. Heat followed immediately, thick and suffocating, like the land itself had leaned down to remind me I didn't belong here.
I lay there for a second longer than I should've.
My body refused to cooperate. Every muscle burned. My lungs clawed for air like they were trying to escape my ribs. When I finally groaned, it sounded pathetic—even to me.
Slowly, I pushed myself up.
The world tilted. I squeezed my eyes shut, waited for the spinning to calm, then opened them again.
Red stone surrounded us on all sides—towering canyon walls, sharp and uneven, like the jagged remains of something that had been torn apart. Above, the sky churned in shades of burnt orange and dirty brown. Clouds drifted lazily across a sun that looked tired of shining here.
The heat wasn't just present.
It lived here.
I staggered toward the edge of the canyon, boots sliding in loose dust. One wrong step and—
My stomach dropped.
Far below, molten rivers cut through the canyon floor, glowing and bubbling as they crawled through the rock. Lava hissed and popped, lighting the shadows with a violent orange pulse. The earth wasn't just alive—it was furious.
"…Where—where the hell are we?" I whispered.
The heat shimmered around me, warping the air. And then it clicked.
Dark Don.
That smug, lunar menace had tossed us here like we were nothing more than debris.
Groans sounded behind me.
Olsen pushed himself upright, hoodie stained with ash and dirt. He followed my gaze over the edge, went quiet for a beat, then huffed a shaky laugh.
"Bro…" he said slowly, "…we might actually be in hell."
Prince popped up next, way too fast, arms flailing as he spun in a circle.
"VOLCANO?! ARE WE LIVING ON A GIANT COOKIE OF LAVA?!"
Demaurion rose last, shoulders tense, smoke faintly curling from his nostrils as he took everything in.
"WHY," he snarled, "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE SATAN'S BACKYARD?"
Archie snapped his wings open, feathers glowing faintly as irritation sparked in his eyes.
"It's Scarletsville, not Satan-ville, grumpy."
I didn't join in.
I sank down near the cliff's edge, knees drawn up, staring into the molten rivers below like they might blink back and explain this nightmare.
And then it hit me.
The prophecy.
Dark Don.
The scroll.
Everything collided in my head at once, heavy and unavoidable.
"Celestial's Fight," I murmured.
Five sets of eyes turned to me. Blank. Confused.
Before I could explain, a sharp metallic scrape sliced through the canyon.
Every instinct screamed.
We froze.
Olsen's posture shifted instantly, casual gone.
"That's… not natural," he said quietly. "Stay sharp. And, uh—maybe don't trip into the lava."
Prince leaned forward, grin stretching way too wide.
"Or—or we jump in and see if lava is actually warm chocolate pudding. Science."
Demaurion's tail lashed once.
"Prince," he growled, "shut your ass up before I throw you in myself."
Archie laughed, wings twitching.
"Oh, I'd pay to see that."
Demaurion turned slowly.
"You," he said flatly, "are asking for it."
Before I could react, Demaurion lunged.
He grabbed Archie by the neck and yanked him off the ground.
"O-oh—oh oh oh okay—OKAY!" Archie yelped, wings flailing wildly.
"QUIT SQUIRMING," Demaurion snapped. "LOCK IN, FIERY BITCH."
"D-Dem, c'mon! It's a joke!" Archie gasped, trying—and failing—to twist free.
"STAY STILL."
With a sharp shove, Archie stumbled sideways, barely catching himself before slipping in the dust. He swung back weakly, more reflex than threat.
Demaurion caught his arm mid-swing like it was nothing.
"Fucking Flamenite audacity," he muttered.
He hoisted Archie up for half a second—just long enough to make the point—then slammed him onto the ground.
Dust puffed up. Archie groaned, sprawled out, wings twitching, smoke curling from his nostrils.
"…Fine," he wheezed. "Fine. I give up."
I rushed over, hands raised.
"HEY—cut it out! Both of you! This is not the time!"
Demaurion straightened, breathing heavy, then finally loosened his grip.
"Maybe," he said coldly, "if you stopped testing me, we'd survive this canyon in one piece."
Archie sat up slowly, rubbing his shoulder, smirk creeping back despite everything.
"Yeah… noted."
I shot them both a look.
"Can we focus on not getting roasted alive instead of wrestling?"
Demaurion huffed. Archie muttered something under his breath. Somewhere behind me, Prince was absolutely laughing.
I turned back toward the cliff and stared into the lava again.
And once more—clarity crashed into me.
Prophecy.
Dark Don.
The scroll.
"Celestial's Fight," I whispered.
Blank stares.
Then—
That metallic scrape echoed again, louder this time, shivering through the valley.
We all froze.
A jagged spire of rock shivered—or maybe it just knew we were screwed.
From behind it, a giant stepped out. Armor the color of old blood. A cape so torn it looked like it had been through three natural disasters. Heat shimmered around his blade like it had a personality crisis—metal? Fire? Who even knows?
King Scar. The Flamenite Warlord.
We froze. Not "uh-oh," more like "ohhhhhh, I think I'm about to die… several times over."
"Do you see that mark?" Archie squeaked.
"I see it," Olsen muttered, "and I hate it."
"Also hate it," Demaurion added, just in case Scar noticed we were all hating him.
Prince shivered. "I'm not okay with this, not okay at all."
Scar's helmet tilted, judging. Mildly annoyed. Like we were ants interrupting his spa day.
"Hmph. Kids playing prophecy," he said. His sword pulsed orange. Our stomachs did somersaults.
Prince zipped first, lightning mode. Scar's sword? Scooped him up, twirled him, and slammed him into a boulder. "Ow! Wait, that's not… okay!"
Olsen charged. Big muscles, earth powers. He grabbed Scar's blade. For a moment, hope. Scar leaned forward. Tap. Ground exploded. Olsen flew backward, halfway embedded in a boulder like a human pinata.
"Uh… can someone get a chiropractor?" Olsen muffled.
Archie took flight, fireballs blazing. "Burn, baby, burn!" He yelled… and Scar swatted the fireballs away like they were annoying flies. Archie fell from the sky like a flaming noodle. "Why is he so extra?"
Demaurion tried water powers. "Taste the fury of—oh no, wait—" Steam hissed everywhere. Scar smacked him with the hilt. Demaurion hit the ground before gravity even noticed. "Well, that was rude."
I was left. Alone. Trembling. Thinking about my life choices. Scar approached, heat waves slapping me in the face.
"You," he growled, "Celestianite. Last to die."
He grabbed me. Threw me into a wall. Stars. Pain. Regret. Again. "Ow! Stop! My hair!"
Olsen poked his head out of the boulder. "Hey! Can someone check if I'm still a person?"
Archie groaned. "I'm not falling from the sky again unless there's ice cream at the bottom!"
Demaurion sputtered, water everywhere. "Seriously, does anyone have… I don't know… a plan?"
Prince's feathers were singed. "Define 'plan.'"
Then, by some cosmic glitch… the universe blinked. My fist, flailing wildly, hit Scar's jaw. Somehow… the perfect spot. He tripped on his own cape, slid like a fireball into lava, and vanished.
Silence.
Olsen coughed. "Did… did we…?"
Archie sneezed fire. "Yeah, totally meant to!"
Demaurion spitted a sad fountain. "If by 'meant to' you mean 'barely survived by dumb luck,' then yes."
Prince muttered, "I'm filing an accident report."
Somewhere deep in the lava, Scar screamed about unfair physics.
"Well," I said, "guess we keep moving." The heat was relentless, but the wind had finally died down to a bearable breeze. We dragged our bodies across Scarletsville, passing by red spires of rock while the sun tortured us with its insane heat. The clouds were in sheets of smoke, the sky was on fire. While trudging, we stepped foot in a village.
We all stopped. My eyes shot around the place of what they called "a Kingdom".
We saw multiple Flamenites wandering around, holding baskets of orange fruit. Some women and little girls wore red or orange robes, the men never wore anything for their upper-bodies but wore ragged baggy pants in crimson. Thankfully nobody recognized me.
Houses of large red and orange rocks with swirly patterns were visible in the area. There were at least hundreds of them in the village.
There were two muscular men with phoenix wings, holding a red glass of lava. Sipping it altogether, they fist bumped. Flamenite lemur kids ran around, playing with a molten ball. They hopped from different spires, throwing the molten ball at each other to catch it. This is the Scarletsville Kingdom.
Far ahead was towering, looming. It was red and shining with every fragment of metal as its tip pierced the sky. With many towers collided with it, Flamenite dragons flew around it holding fiery spears and flaming armor.
That was King Scars castle.
This town was very busy, and they don't know that I was the one that dropped their king into lava and killed him. We continued traveling. Passing molten rivers that gushed with glowing lava, sauntering through the Crimson Canyons. Wide canyons where the Flamenite felines. Flamenite Lions, Tigers, and Leopards roared at us while we walked. Archie warned us that they were pretty rude. And trust me, I would've slapped the fire out of all of those creatures if they repeated those actions.
The valley was flat and cracked beneath our feet, barren and broken. Massive red mountains loomed, rugged and streaked with veins of molten lava. The river we crossed was nothing but blackened, coal-covered rocks sliding beneath our boots.
The whole place was a surreal mix of devastation and haunting beauty, frozen in perpetual ruin.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, shadows stretched long across the land. The fiery sky faded to darkness, and the first stars blinked awake—distant memories scattered across the night.
The crescent moon hung low, casting an eerie silver glow over the desolation. Night swallowed everything, bringing a silence so thick it felt like the earth itself was holding its breath. "I'm starting to think this place is even scarier when the sun's gone," Archie muttered, breaking the quiet.
Squinting into the darkness, he added, "It's late, and I'm beat. How about we find a spot to crash? We can push on fresh tomorrow and tackle the next part of the prophecy." I nodded slowly. "Sounds good. Rest first, then move on."
Olsen, always thinking ahead, spotted a small cave nestled into a rocky hillside. Perfect shelter. The cave was pitch black, darker than the night outside.
Everyone shifted into their magical beast forms, taking up spots in the cool shadows. I sat at the entrance, folding my wings like a blanket around me. From here, the sky stretched endlessly—a canvas of twinkling stars.
The crescent moon hung like a silent guardian, bathing the world in soft silver light. Olsen, now a massive Rockslide Ankylosaurus, lay on his belly, filling much of the cave's floor. He turned his head toward me, a thoughtful smirk playing on his lips. "You ever notice how Scarletsville looks kinda beautiful at night, but during the day… it's a whole different story?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Like two different worlds. We'll probably find out why tomorrow." I leaned back, wrapping my wings tighter around myself. My tail curled around my waist, warmth radiating as I nestled into the folds. One last glance at the moonlit sky… then sleep took me.