Far to the south, in the volcanic city of Agnikund, the Council of Flame convened. Seven elders, each cloaked in ember-red robes, sat in a ring of ever-burning fire. At the center, a crystal projection flickered—showing Aarav in the heart of the Flame Basin.
"He has awakened it," growled Elder Bhairav. "The boy holds the Agneyastra."
Another elder, Mahishi, her face lined with centuries of wisdom, frowned. "The prophecy unfolds. The last warrior rises."
"But he is untrained," snapped Bhairav. "We must strike now—before he becomes a threat to the Council's rule."
A silent figure stepped forward from the shadows—a young woman in black robes, her eyes like still coals. "Let me test him."
Mahishi's eyes narrowed. "Be careful, Jyotika. If he truly bears the warrior's soul, you may not return."
Jyotika smiled coldly. "Then let him prove himself worthy."