"And then everything had gone white," Primrose said, the dream trailing her tongue.
"Gone white, you say?" Asahi said as he wrapped his arms around her. "I would never fight my own father. But if you need help, here is what I can do."
After embracing Primrose, recalling her dream, all watched as a spire of flame shot across the bright sky, cutting through the clouds like a blade of fire.
The crimson column twisted upward, lighting and painting up the sky as it rose.
Then, the edifice of fire crashed down, sending sparks flying into the shadows like a meteor.
(WOOSH)
As the spire faded, Asahi and Primrose left in a state of awe, the afterimages of fire lingering.
The air felt warmer, and a hush fell over the scene, as if the world paused to process the moment, the beauty of the flaming spires leaving them breathless.
As they caught their breath, the group's attention remained fixed on the fading light above.
