The sky cracked open with a roar of thunder. But there was no rain. Instead, the temperature surged, a suffocating heat rolling through the ruins. The air shimmered as if the world had caught fire.
Lightning split the heavens, but it wasn't white, it was gold, streaking like molten rivers across the sky.
Then, from the heart of the storm, a creature descended.
A Phoenix.
It was not just any Phoenix, it was a true, mythical being of fire and eternity. Its massive wings were unfurled, each feather a living ember, and it formed a blaze of celestial gold and deep crimson. The air around it pulsed with heat, warping reality with its sheer presence.
Cyrus took a step back, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword, though he knew no weapon could match this being.
But Phoenix—the vampiress—staggered forward, her red eyes wide, reflecting the flames, her body trembling with something she couldn't name.
A feeling. A bond.
