'My flames are devouring in nature,' Max thought calmly. 'They consume everything. They leave nothing behind.'
The memory of his black flames flickered across his mind—those dreadful fires that could eat through even divine energy. His flames did not nurture; they ended. They didn't create balance; they consumed imbalance. His path had never been one of mercy. It was about dominance—about absolute control over destruction.
For hours, Max searched within the layers of the flame pillar. His consciousness through his Three Dimensional Body traveled deeper and deeper, through the roaring light and the screaming heat.
The flames formed landscapes, rivers of lava, and vortexes of molten energy as if responding to his presence. Every shape that appeared tested his understanding. A phoenix made of golden light flew past him, then a serpent of crimson smoke that whispered of immortality. But Max ignored them all.
