The battlefield lay frozen in eternal twilight.
Ash drifted through the air like snow.
Max stood alone before the Seven Doors, his heart pounding against the walls of his chest.
The Oblivion King had retreated — wounded, for now — vanishing into the collapsing folds of reality.
But Max knew it was only a matter of time before the monster returned, stronger, hungrier.
He had to act.
Had to become more.
The Seven Doors loomed around him in a perfect circle.
Each one thrummed with raw, elemental force — the last remnants of his fallen comrades.
As Max approached, the First Door pulsed.
It was Aria's.
A massive gate of molten bronze, rimmed with crimson flame, inscribed with symbols Max could not read. The heat coming off it should have burned him alive — yet the frost that now lived in his blood kept him steady.
He placed a hand against the surface.
It was warm.
Alive.
Waiting.
"Aria..." he whispered.
Memories flooded him:
Her laughter, wild and fierce. The way she used to ruffle his hair and call him "Little Snowflake." Her final scream of defiance as she burned herself out to protect him.
His chest tightened.
Tears blurred his vision, but he refused to look away.
I won't waste what you gave me.
A low click echoed through the temple ruins.
The First Door cracked open — just a sliver — and a surge of fire leapt into Max's body.
He fell to his knees, gasping.
The fire wasn't just heat — it was memory, rage, hope, sacrifice.
It clawed through his veins, demanding to be acknowledged, to be mastered.
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
He gritted his teeth and slammed his fists into the ground, sending a ripple of frost outward to anchor himself.
Endure it, he thought. Control it, or it controls you.
Minute by agonizing minute, he wrestled the fire inside him — forcing it to bend, to merge with the ice of his soul.
And then, finally...
Silence.
A new presence stood before him:
A figure formed of living flame, wearing Aria's silhouette, her face half-forgotten in the shifting embers.
She smiled — the same fierce, reckless grin she always wore — and bowed.
Max stared, wide-eyed.
This wasn't just a memory.
It was her will, her power — gifted to him.
New Ability Acquired:
Phantom of Fire: Aria's Spirit
(Summon the Fire Phantom in battle. Enhances strength, resistance to heat, and grants fire-based attacks.)
Elemental Fusion: Icefire Core
(Allows temporary fusion of ice and fire magic into devastating dual-elemental attacks.)
Max stood slowly, feeling different.
Stronger.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
A crackle of frostfire danced along his fingers — white flames edged with blue ice, beautiful and lethal.
He clenched his hand into a fist, snuffing it out.
The First Door had accepted him.
One down.
Six to go.
And he could feel it — deep within — the pulse of untapped power still waiting behind the other Doors.
He turned toward the center of the ruin, where the Heart of Azarath once shone.
The Heart — the ultimate source of balance — was flickering, its glow fading.
Without the Eight Warriors, Azarath would die.
Without the Seven Doors awakened, there was no hope.
Max stepped forward, cloak billowing in the cold-fire winds.
No more hesitation.
No more fear.
He would awaken them all.
He would bear their strength.
He would become the weapon Azarath needed.
Not the boy they pitied.
Not the failure who watched his friends die.
But the Keeper.
The Sovereign of the Seven Doors.
The next time the Oblivion King came...
Max wouldn't just survive.
He would win.
[End of Chapter 2]