Max floated gently down from the broken remains of the red sphere, his body draped in a red shimmering cloth that clung to him like a second skin, flickering softly with traces of energy. The floor beneath his feet felt strangely warm, alive even, as if the tower itself was welcoming him back.
He stood still for a moment, taking in a deep breath as his bare feet touched the white-tiled ground, before his eyes slowly opened—calm, sharp, yet heavy with memory.
"I never thought using the Violet Lightning would almost kill me..." he murmured quietly, voice hoarse but steady, the words drifting into the quiet air of the chamber.
His gaze drifted toward the golden figure of Xolo, who stood patiently nearby, and then to something else—an object floating silently in the air just in front of him. A golden key. It hovered there with a dignified stillness, as if it had waited centuries just for him.
