Aaron's consciousness plunged deeper, yanked violently into a boundless inner realm.
It was no ordinary soulscape.
It was an infinite expanse forged entirely from living flame, every hue and intensity imaginable.
Crimson infernos roared like angry oceans.
Azure flames danced with icy precision. Golden blazes pulsed like newborn stars.
The air itself crackled and hissed, thick with the scent of scorched eternity and raw power.
At the center of it all sat a colossal throne woven from pure, ever-shifting fire.
Aaron found himself upon it, the searing surface somehow cradling him instead of burning.
It felt alive beneath him, warm, possessive, welcoming its true sovereign.
Before the throne, row after row of Flameborn beings knelt in perfect silence.
First came the dragons: humongous beasts of coiling flame, their scales rippling like molten lava, ancient arrogance blazing in eyes the size of moons.
