The flames vanished.
In front of Ozai's bewildered eyes, Bruce's body reformed completely. His skin was smooth, unblemished, and unburned. His hair was untouched, and his calm, infuriatingly composed expression returned as if nothing had ever happened.
The divine flame, born from living cells, powerful enough to melt stone and vaporize life itself, had failed.
Bruce looked down at his hands, flexing them slowly. Faint wisps of smoke drifted from his fingertips, curling into the air before fading. Then his gaze lifted, cold, steady, sharp with quiet satisfaction.
Ozai's eyes widened in disbelief. His technique, the pinnacle of his Flame Authority, the very essence of his Fire Lord class, had just stopped working. Completely.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered behind the ghostly white glow of his eyes.
At that moment, Bruce smiled. "It seems that's as far as you can push yourself in this VR."
The words were casual, but the tone carried a terrifying finality.
