Daimen floated in a blackness—unconscious, yet conscious. His body was weightless, his senses muted. He was utterly alone, adrift in a vast, endless void where the concept of time had dissolved into nothingness. 

Suddenly, it happened. A light pierced the darkness, enveloping Daimen in its warm embrace. It emanated from a multicolored flame that manifested from the nothingness, flickering majestically above him. Slowly, it descended closer and closer to his body and hovered over his chest.

"Rise," a powerful voice reverberated through the void. 

The flame then penetrated his body and merged with his soul. A surge of its mysterious energy caused his skin to radiate a soft, yet vibrant, red.

Then, he awoke.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a white ceiling. As his vision cleared, he became aware of a thin, winding tube attached to the nape of his neck, through which a clear glistening liquid flowed. He could feel bandages wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and his body felt sluggish. 

Then, the memories of the battle in Asedal rushed back—the stuffed rabbit, the Orc that nearly killed him, and the massive Phoenix that had erupted from within him.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his recollections. "You're awake! Thank Arcus," it was Byron, speaking from his right.

Daimen turned slightly. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"You're in the Infirmary," Byron replied, his face flooding with relief. "How are you feeling?"

Daimen sat up slowly, cautiously rotating his shoulders. To his surprise, there was no pain.

"I feel...fine."

Byron stepped closer and pulled Daimen into his warm embrace. The sudden hug initially left Daimen stunned and slightly confused, but he quickly allowed himself to melt into Byron's arms. 

"I'm sorry, Daimen," Byron began, his voice barely a whisper, his embrace still firm. "I should never have allowed you to go out there." His words were heavy, laden with a guilt that seemed to weigh him down.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. I wanted to be there, to prove to you that I was ready," Daimen responded, pulling slightly away to meet Byron's gaze.

Byron's eyes searched Daimen's, filled with a turmoil that wasn't entirely visible on the surface. "But it is my fault. I promised your father I would protect you and keep you safe. But I failed. I almost lost you." His voice faltered, his gaze drifting off as if lost in painful memories. "I'm disbanding the squad. You're going back to Ahwahl, where it's safe."

"What?" Daimen was shocked. "No, I'm not going back to Ahwahl. I need to get stronger. I have to," he paused. "I'm not a kid anymore, Byron. I can fight!"

Byron's response came after a painful pause, "You're not ready!" He caught himself, the impact of his words echoing between them. He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. "You were in a coma for six days, Daimen. Six days."

Daimen's eyes widened at the revelation. It felt like he'd been floating in that black void for a few seconds, at most. But six days? This left him speechless.

"This isn't up for discussion. You leave tomorrow." 

"No! You can't do this!" In a sudden burst of emotion, Daimen's eyes glowed red, and a massive shockwave of Enre erupted from his body, pushing Byron back a step. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

Byron's expression was one of subtle shock. He stared at Daimen for a moment before regaining his composure. "That aura. I didn't want to believe it," he said, stepping closer with his gaze fixed intently on Daimen.

"What are you talking about?" Daimen asked, his concern deepening. It was rare to see Byron this unsettled.

"That day in Asedal. I saw it. The Phoenix," Byron paused, collecting his thoughts. "Have you inherited it? The Phoenix Core?"

Memories of the black void and the multicolored flame flashed through Daimen's mind. He recalled the warmth of its light, the beauty of its dancing colors, and the voice that was both familiar and godly.

"I'm not sure," Daimen muttered. "There was a colorful flame. And a voice. It spoke to me. It said 'Rise.'"

Byron's eyes widened even further, a mix of awe and apprehension. "Impossible. It's too soon."

Daimen examined his palms, and with a mere flicker of intention, a spark of Enre ignited. Instantly, a massive fireball burst to life, surprising him with its size—it was unlike anything he had ever produced before, especially with such minimal effort. Then, something extraordinary happened. The flame began to swirl and contort, taking on a life of its own. Red and yellow wings unfurled, followed by the emergence of a yellow beak and sharp talons crafted from dense fire. Within seconds, the flame had transformed into a small phoenix, which gracefully descended onto his lap. He immediately exchanged glances with Byron, who was equally stunned by the spectacle.

"Well, that confirms it," Byron said, releasing an awkward chuckle. "The Phoenix has blessed you with its power." He sighed, the weight of the revelation settling in. "It seems Arcus has heard your plea. You get to stay a little longer."

Daimen's face lit up. Reflecting his excitement, the Phoenix on his lap let out a mighty shriek and flapped its wings vigorously.

"In the meantime, keep him out of sight," Byron said sternly. "Word of this does not leave this room, understood?"

Daimen nodded happily, and the Phoenix mirrored his nod with a graceful bob of its fiery head.

Byron sighed deeply and ran his hand down his face as he walked to the door.

"Oh. Where's Raynor?" Daimen asked, gently patting the Phoenix on its head.

"He's currently on a mission with Stormfront. I'll let him know you're awake as soon as he gets back," Byron replied, his hand on the door handle. "Get some rest. Training starts tomorrow," he added before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Daimen immediately returned his attention to the Phoenix. He gently lifted it beneath its wings and raised it into the air, his smile stretching from one side of the room to the other. The Phoenix let out a joyful shriek in response.

"I can't believe it. Pyru!" Daimen exclaimed.

Pyru wriggled free from his grasp and fluttered over to his head, settling comfortably atop it, which caused Daimen to burst into laughter.

"I missed you, buddy. Raynor's going to be so happy to see you." As he spoke, Daimen's smile gradually faded. Sensing his sudden change in mood, Pyru flew down to his chest and hopped up close to his face, gently rubbing its head against his cheeks.

"Stop it," Daimen chuckled, then sighed heavily. "They're gone, Pyru. Mom and Dad. The entire clan—" his voice cracked, overwhelmed by emotion. "They're all gone."

Overcome with grief, Daimen threw himself back onto the bed and covered his face with his arm, hiding his tears. "I wasn't strong enough to do anything then, but I refuse to remain useless." He wiped away his tears and stared resolutely at the ceiling. "I will become stronger, no matter what." Suddenly, the haunting memory of Aelon standing over his parents flashed through his mind. "He'll pay for what he's done."

—x—

Twenty minutes earlier, Raynor, Korra, and Jaric emerged from a portal and were greeted by the anxious village chief of Zernal, a small village on the eastern edge of Krugona. The air was thick with fear, punctuated by the urgent blares of horns in the background.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," the village chief said, his voice shaking. "The Rift appeared just a few minutes ago, and a large army of Infernals had already amassed by then. They're heading right toward the village. Please, save us."

"No need to worry. We'll handle it," Korra replied, flashing her signature reassuring smile. "Has everyone evacuated the danger zone?"

The village chief nodded frantically. "Yes, they've all gathered in the Village Hall."

Jaric's stomach grumbled. It was loud enough to draw a glance. "Have some food ready for us when we get back."

The village chief wavered between gratitude and bewilderment but nodded anyway.

"Head to the Village Hall," Korra instructed firmly.

"Thank you!" the village chief said, shaking their hands vigorously before hurrying out of the small room. Once he was gone, Korra elbowed Jaric lightly in the ribs.

"Seriously?" 

"What? I'm starving! It's the least they can do after we save their village," Jaric retorted with a grin.

Korra rolled her eyes before turning to Raynor. "Are you ready for this?"

"Don't worry about me. Let's just get this done," Raynor said bluntly.

Jaric laughed heartily. "You're seriously starting to grow on me, kid," he said, casting a playful glance at Korra. "Well, you heard him. Let's get this done."

A few minutes later, the trio had made their way to the front of the village's main towering stone gate. Above them, the Rift tore through the sky, leaving an unnatural tear in the fabric of space itself. It swirled with dark violet and black energy, radiating an air of malice. From its center emerged Infernals of all shapes and sizes: crimson-eyed Goblins, hulking Orcs, Red Wyverns, and small Grey Vexes. Hundreds, if not thousands, slowly advanced toward them. Yet, despite the overwhelming numbers, Stormfront stood confident.

"Do it," Jaric said to Korra.

She then opened her palm, and within a brief burst of concentrated Enre, a small sophisticated device materialized—a Knulifier. Its sleek silver and black metal design was expertly crafted, sporting a small blue button on its cylindrical edge and a digital screen running along its side. She pressed the button twice, and the screen lit up, displaying a small twenty-second timer.

Jaric glanced at Raynor and raised his eyebrows a few times as he smirked. Raynor simply ignored him. 

Korra materialized a bow and arrow from her Enre. She placed the device on the tip of the arrow and took aim at the Rift. With a deep breath, she released her grip, and the arrow rocketed through the air, piercing into the shadowy depths of the Rift. 

The squad then patiently waited. Three. Two. One. Then it happened. A massive shockwave emanated from the Rift, and almost immediately, it began to deteriorate until it finally vanished.

"Great work," Jaric said, quickly pecking Korra on the cheek. Korra gave him an annoyed look as he stepped forward, stretching his arms above his head. "Alright. Now, it's clean-up time."

His body suddenly began to glow faint white. Streaks of lightning shot out from beneath his skin in all directions. His immense aura emanated through dense shockwaves, causing the grass at his feet to ripple. Then, with a smirk, he quickly ascended into the sky with his arms spread outward.

"Who is he trying to impress?" Korra scoffed.

"Hey, Prodigy!" Jaric shouted as he hovered above the massive horde of Infernals, white streaks of lightning flickering and crawling across his body. "Check this out!"

With a borderline demonic grin, Jaric unleashed potent branches of lightning. They rained down on the Infernals, piercing through their otherwise tough skin with ease, hitting the earth and leaving it scorched with jagged veins. It was an absolute massacre. No Infernal could hope to escape. They dropped by the hundreds, completely incinerating from his immense power. Within seconds, the once massive horde of well over a thousand was reduced to ash. At that moment, it was clear to all who witnessed. Jaric was a monster—a one-man army. 

Raynor stood in disbelief. Although he was shocked by what he'd just seen, his face remained unchanged, with only his raised brows hinting at his true feelings. 

"Why are we even here?" he asked. 

Korra sighed. "He loves an audience." 

Jaric descended from the sky with a look of disappointment. "They didn't even put up a fight." He sighed.

"Yeah. Yeah," Korra said before gently caressing the side of his face. "Great work, as usual." She then turned and began walking toward the village gate. 

Jaric's stomach grumbled—this time a lot louder. "Come on, kid. It's time to eat!" He followed Korra. 

Raynor took a moment to let everything sink in. He still couldn't believe it. The threat was handled in less than a minute as though it was nothing—barely an inconvenience. This squad—Stormfront—they weren't to be messed with. And he knew now that Byron did not exaggerate when he referred to them as his 'Elite Squad.' 

He broke from his daze and turned to follow Korra and Jaric back into the village. As he did, his thoughts drifted to Daimen. "Hang in there, D," he muttered.