In the heart of a vast, scorched desert, where the sun blazed mercilessly upon the earth, Kasai, the embodiment of all flames, sat upon his throne. His figure was grand and intimidating, cloaked in robes that flickered like flames themselves. Smoke tendrils danced from the corners of his eyes while he played with a small fireball that swirled in his palm, casting shifting shadows across the walls of his throne room—a cavern carved out of burnt rocks and glowing embers.

Kasai had witnessed centuries unfold. He had seen kingdoms rise from ash and crumble beneath their own weight. Yet here he was, alone with only the sound of crackling embers for company. He did not seek adoration; he found solace in silence and contemplation.

As he waited for anyone bold enough to approach him, he reflected on his existence. The flames were more than mere destruction; they symbolized renewal and change—the way life flickered into being and then faded out in an endless cycle. But would anyone recognize this truth? Would they see him beyond the heat and destruction?