Throne of Ashes and Flame

Prologue: The Dying Star

The sky was dark—unnaturally dark. Clouds swirled overhead, moving in unnatural patterns, as if some unseen force was playing with the very fabric of the heavens. The winds howled through the barren landscape, carrying the scent of ash and blood.

Beneath the ominous sky stood a massive throne, one that had long been forgotten. It was crafted from obsidian, dark as the void itself, and adorned with intricate carvings of flames and smoke. The throne was ancient, older than the kingdoms that surrounded it. It had witnessed countless wars, the rise and fall of countless rulers, and the death of those foolish enough to sit in its seat.

But it had been empty for centuries.

Until now.

A figure approached, cloaked in shadows. Their footsteps echoed through the hollowed-out ruins of what had once been a grand palace, now reduced to nothing more than a crumbling monument to the past. The air was thick with the scent of decay, but the figure's presence seemed to bring a strange stillness to the world around them.

They reached the throne and stopped. Slowly, with deliberate care, they knelt before it, their head bowed in reverence—or perhaps fear. They placed their hands on the cold stone, feeling the power that surged within it, dormant for so long.

"We are not ready," the figure whispered, their voice barely audible over the wind. "But we have no choice. The empire will fall, and only one can rise from its ashes."

The figure rose, their movements graceful yet full of purpose. They turned toward the ruined city that lay beyond the throne, their eyes narrowing as they gazed at the distant horizon.

"Let the game begin," they muttered under their breath.

At that moment, in a world far away from this forgotten throne, the sky above Kaito Bansal's world began to shimmer.