The pendant's light pulsed faintly against Azula's chest, a steady heartbeat in the deepening shadows over the Iron-hollow District. The city's restless hum felt distant, like a fading echo beneath the storm gathering in his soul.
Late at night, as Azula meditated and pushed the limits of his power, something shattered the stillness—a tear in reality itself.
A glowing rift flickered in the air before him, a wound in existence stretching wide, revealing swirling chaos beyond. It twisted time and space, and from its depths, dark tendrils of malevolent energy seeped out, curling like shadows hungry for destruction.
The cold whisper of the void slithered into his mind.
"The Veil weakens... all will fall... unless you stop it..."
No voice came—only a crushing weight of responsibility, alone.
With no allies, no guiding council, no one but himself, Azula stepped forward.
The city faded behind him as he was pulled into the rift.
The world he landed in was a distorted nightmare—skies torn between stars and void, buildings twisted by time's unraveling, reality bending and fracturing like cracked glass.
His heart thundered in his chest.
He was alone.
No council to save him. No others to share the burden.
Just Azula.
And the dark chaos threatening to swallow all existence.
The Null.
A monstrous entity born of pure entropy, it loomed over the broken landscape like a shadow with no shape—its whispers clawing at his mind.
"Join me, child of light. Give in. You could be the god you pretend to be."
Azula's breath caught, pain and temptation crashing like a tidal wave.
But then, with every ounce of faith, every prayer whispered in the dark, he gripped the pendant.
"My power is not for me. It's a trust, that God has in me ."
His voice cracked but held steady.
The battle began.
Time warped around him. Reality bent and snapped.
Azula moved like light itself, dodging tendrils of chaos, wielding his sacred power with precision born from generations of faith.
With his heart blazing with determination, he reached deep within—the combined strength of his ancestors flowing through him.
Raising the pendant, he channeled a blinding light that cut through the darkness like a sword.
A final, deafening roar echoed as the rift slammed shut.
He collapsed, trembling, breath ragged.
The city of Iron-hollow waited.
The multiverse still spun.
But Azula knew this was only the beginning.
He was the lone guardian now—carrying the weight of infinite worlds.
And the storm was far from over.