In the hollow between the elemental realms, where light and shadow meet but no wind dares move, there floated a palace carved from silence itself. Walls of frozen lightning formed its columns, and oceans of drifting flame shimmered beneath transparent floors.
Here dwelled Ryuzen, master of balance, keeper of the seal's ancient codes, and the first to ever bend all five elements into obedience.
He sat upon a throne that was not a throne at all but a suspended ring of energy spinning slowly around his meditative posture. His eyes remained closed—two burned‑out stars that saw everything without sight.
When the first tremor crossed the void, his stillness broke.
He opened his palm, and the emptiness before him rippled into images: far below, across mortal soil, three lights intertwined—shadow, stone, and storm—each pulsing in rhythm with the still‑beating heart buried within Kyomisu.
His voice carried the weight of centuries. "So the bridge awakens again."
The Memory of Failure
He rose, motion slow but deliberate. Every step he took bent reality, causing entire constellations to rearrange themselves in the void beyond the palace.
"Kelivin…" he said softly, the name sounding both bitter and familiar. "You learned nothing from mercy."
Light descended around him, forming shape—the memory of the war, of Kelivin standing against him at the Convergence Gate. Maiko's glow shimmered faintly within the replay, her face caught in that moment before sealing herself away.
Ryuzen reached toward the illusion, fingertips grazing her outline. "I warned you both. The path to unity ends in erasure."
The image shattered into dust.
Yet, as the fragments faded, each speck carried the same pulse as the Heart Seal's current rhythm. The convergence he feared was no longer his to control.
The Antechamber of Judgment
From the depths of the palace emerged his disciples—the Elemental Five, echoes of his original order who had each mastered one aspect of creation.
The first, Eriten of Flame, knelt with heat rippling across his armor. "Master, the lower worlds burn with instability. Lightning storms rise without storms. The realms drift apart."
The second, Selin of Water, bowed gracefully, her body half‑translucent. "It is not chaos, Master. It is resonance. The five flows are syncing again."
At that, the others faltered. Even ancient beings knew what those words implied.
Ryuzen walked past them, arms folded behind his back. "Resonance… a word mortals use when they forget who created balance. The seal stirs not by will but by interference."
Eriten lifted his eyes. "The sources?"
"Three," Ryuzen said. "The sons of Kelivin. The heirs of the Bridgewalker bloodline. The convergence has found living hosts."
Silence filled the chamber. Then one of them, Torda of Stone, rumbled in his deep way. "Then the prophecy returns. The unity that undid her spirit will try again through children."
Ryuzen's tone sharpened. "And if it succeeds, all separation between the elements will dissolve. Creation will collapse inward, drawn to a single existence beyond form. The worlds will end not in fire—but in sameness."
He extended his hand. Five circular seals spun into existence—each glowing with a different color. "Find them. Test them."
The Seeds of Judgment
Ryuzen turned away from his followers, eyes fixed on the swirling image of Kyomisu still hovering before him.
"They have achieved what their father never could," he said. "True harmony without annihilation."
Yet his voice carried something between pride and torment, as though every word cost him to speak. "That is precisely why they will destroy us all."
He closed his eyes, and through thought alone, sent his command through the veins of reality: Reveal the heirs to the elemental order. Test their hearts, their loyalty, their unity. Should they falter—end the bridge before it crosses the void once more.
The seal upon the void trembled, spreading its vibration to every distant realm—fire seas, water skies, mountains of whispering wind.
Far within those domains, shapes began to stir. Old guardians, once silent for centuries, started to wake.
Beyond the Horizon
Ryuzen walked to the edge of the palace where the void opened into a horizon without stars. His robes rippled in unseen currents as he spoke a single phrase to the darkness:
"The world you loved, Maiko, moves again. Pray your heirs are wise enough to bear it."
He raised his hand, and storms of energy gathered around the palace—his own power preparing for the inevitable clash.
As the light swallowed him, his form blended with the void itself, turning into a lone, distant aura watching the mortal plane.
Below, lightning flashed across Kyomisu's sky in reply—an answer he did not expect, or perhaps had dreaded.
The age of balance had ended. The age of convergence had begun.