(Opening shot: morning light over Ignara's capital. Banners ripple above the volcanic terraces; smoke from the arena still drifts across the sky. The tone is tense, hushed.)
"When power changes hands, silence always burns first." — Old Ignaran Proverb
Scene 1
The Grand Council Chamber blazed with molten pillars and mirrored fire-runes spiralling toward the dome. Around a circular dais sat the twelve lords of Ignara—each orb hovering above them, casting status-colored light across their faces.
Ren stood at the center, bound only by attention. Ignis occupied the sovereign's seat, cape flowing like liquid crimson. To her right, Magister Elrion adjusted his monocle; to her left, Captain Rael waited with his hand on his blade.
A gray-bearded noble spoke first, his voice gravel rough."Your Highness, this… commoner broke every known law of the Protocol. He risks destabilizing our core. Why defend him?"
Ignis's eyes narrowed. "Because he stabilized the core when the rest of you hid behind shields."
Murmurs rippled. Another lord slammed his orb onto the desk."By accident, perhaps! Shall we let accidents rewrite divinity?"
Ren clenched his fists. He wanted to shout, but Ignis lifted a hand—quiet authority that cut through noise like a sword through smoke.
"Enough," she said. "If courage is a crime, then crown me guilty beside him."
(Camera pan: councilors exchange glances; political tension crackles like heat waves.)
Elrion stepped forward. "Sirs, data confirms synchronization integrity. The anomaly is stable. The Flame Fragment shows no corruption."He gestured to a projection—a hologram of Ren's and Ignis's orbs pulsing in perfect rhythm. "The Protocol recognizes him. Denying that is denying the system itself."
The chamber fell silent—until the High Chancellor rose.
He was tall, robed in gold embroidery that glowed faintly with embedded runes. "Recognition," he said coldly, "does not mean acceptance. What if the Protocol was hacked? What if this boy is a herald of collapse?"
Ignis's spear materialized in her hand with a burst of flame. "Say one more word against him, and you'll find out who collapses first."
(The camera cuts to Ren; he watches her, torn between awe and fear. The guards tense.)
Elrion intervened. "Enough! The Heartbearer's signal hasn't been seen in millennia. We can argue semantics or we can prepare."He turned toward Ignis. "Your Highness, the message broadcast last night—'the Ice Empress awakens.' The resonance is already expanding."
Ignis exhaled slowly. "Then the prophecy's chain begins."
Scene 2
(Door closes. Sound fades; only the faint hiss of steam remains.)
Ignis dropped the formal tone the instant they were alone. She paced before the balcony, crimson hair catching sunlight."Half the council wants you exiled, half wants you dissected. I've bought you a day."
Ren gave a crooked grin. "So I should feel grateful?"
"Be careful," she snapped, then sighed. "No—be ready. The Council of Aether will summon you soon. They'll demand to see the 'anomaly' for themselves. And if you stay silent, they'll invent your voice for you."
Ren crossed his arms. "Then I'll speak. I'm done being someone's glitch."
Ignis studied him. There was no arrogance in his tone—just weary defiance. "Good," she murmured. "Because you're coming with me to Glaciem."
He blinked. "The Ice Realm?"
She nodded. "If the next fragment is stirring, we can't wait for it to come to us. Besides…"—her eyes softened—"…the best way to quiet the council is with victory."
(Camera shift: map projection appears between them—seven realms glowing around a central core. Northern spire highlighted in blue.)
Ren frowned. "Glaciem… I've heard it's deadly to outsiders."
"It is," she said simply. "But you won't melt. You're my flame now."
He felt his cheeks heat. "That sounds dangerously poetic."
Ignis smirked. "Don't get used to it."
Scene 3
(Montage: Ren alone on the palace balcony, overlooking lava rivers turned silver under the moon.)
He turned the small memory crystal Ignis had given him over in his fingers. When he activated it, faint echoes—voices, laughter, fragments of ancient duels—played like ghosts in light. The crystal pulsed once, then projected an image: a much younger Ignis training, falling, standing again.
She looked fearless—and lonely.
Ren whispered, "Fire never lies, huh? Maybe it hides pain instead."
The door creaked; Ignis leaned against the frame, arms folded. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Too much energy," he said, holding up the crystal. "This thing replays your memories. You know that's kind of invasive, right?"
Her expression softened. "Those are fragments the flame wanted you to see. Not secrets. Lessons."
He chuckled. "Then lesson learned: don't spar shirtless near magma."
She snorted. "I was fifteen."
They both laughed quietly—the kind of laughter that eases walls. Then silence fell again, heavier but comfortable.
"Ren," she said finally, "once we leave, we may not come back the same. The Protocol doesn't bind its chosen gently."
"I know." He looked at her. "But if this path started with us, I'm walking it."
She nodded, faintly proud, faintly afraid.
(Wind carries embers around them; camera circles slowly, music swelling.)
Scene 4
(Next morning: sunrise over the city. Palace courtyard alive with preparation. Sky-carriages hover, loaded with supplies; soldiers salute.)
Elrion approached with a data scroll. "I've arranged a transport via Zephyrian trade winds. You'll cross the Frost Gate by nightfall tomorrow."
Ignis clasped his shoulder. "Hold the capital while I'm gone."
He bowed. "Always, Your Highness. And Arclight—"Ren turned."Try not to rewrite physics without warning me first."
Ren grinned. "No promises."
(Cut: Ignis and Ren boarding a flame-lined cruiser shaped like a phoenix. Engines roar to life.)
As they ascended, the palace shrank beneath them. Ren looked back—his first home, his first battlefield. Ignis caught his gaze. "Don't get sentimental."
"I was just thinking," he said, "this all started with one accidental kiss."
She smirked. "Then try not to make the next one accidental."
(Camera pans out—the ship streaks north, trails of red light slicing across the clouds.)
Scene 5
Inside the cruiser, silence reigned except for the hum of mana engines. Ren watched the horizon shift from orange to pale white—the first hints of northern frost.
Ignis sat opposite him, studying data screens. "Temperature's dropping faster than forecast. Glaciem's barrier is reacting."
"Reacting to what?"
"To us." She zoomed the map. A ring of blue energy pulsed across the northern border. "The Ice Fragment senses the Flame Fragment's movement. They were once complementary forces in the Heartbearer's cycle. Now they repel."
Ren frowned. "So walking in together might be suicide."
"Possibly." She met his eyes. "Still willing?"
He smiled faintly. "Wouldn't be the first bad idea I survived."
(Cutaway—outside view: storm clouds form, snow meeting flame trail. The ship shudders.)
Scene 6
Alarms blared.
ALERT: UNKNOWN SIGNATURE APPROACHING.
Ren lurched to the window—dark shapes emerging from the blizzard. Sleek drones of black crystal, bearing the sigil of a burning circle crossed with zero.
Ignis's expression hardened. "Nullborn Cult."
"Already?"
She drew her spear; flame wings unfolded behind her as she stepped to the open hatch."Stay inside."
Ren grabbed her wrist. "Not happening."
For a heartbeat, she almost argued—but his orb flared beside hers, pulsing in sync. She gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Follow my lead."
(Action burst—camera cuts to wide sky shot. The cruiser dives through snow; Ignis leaps out, spinning her spear, trails of fire cutting drones in arcs. Ren focuses, channeling new flame bursts that burn hot enough to pierce the cold.)
Drones swarm; explosions bloom like fireworks against ice clouds. One drone slips past; Ren jumps after it, propelling himself with fire jets. The recoil throws him into open air.
Ignis shouts, "Ren!"
He twists mid-fall, conjures a spiral of fire beneath him, landing hard on a fragment of floating ice. The drone crashes nearby; he crushes its core with a fiery punch.
(Slow motion: shards scatter, his reflection blazing in each piece.)
He laughs breathlessly. "Still alive."
Ignis lands beside him, cloak whipping in the wind. "Reckless."
"You like that about me."
She smirked. "Maybe."
The wreckage falls burning through the clouds below as the cruiser steadies. Above them, the sky opens—an expanse of white auroras.
Scene 7
As the storm cleared, mountains of crystal ice stretched to the horizon. Cities glittered beneath transparent domes; rivers frozen mid-flow glowed with inner light.
Ren stared. "It's beautiful."
Ignis's tone softened. "And deadly. Glacielle rules from the Spire of Silence. If the prophecy's true, she already knows we're coming."
(Camera sweeps over the frozen expanse. Somewhere far ahead, a solitary figure stands on a glacier balcony—long hair pale as snow, eyes of mirrored blue. She turns toward the distant red glow of the approaching ship.)
Glacielle:"So… the fire brings its shadow. Let's see if courage can survive the cold."
(Wind howls. Screen fades to white.)
Scene 8
Back on the cruiser, Ren rested against the window, half-asleep. Ignis sat nearby, the flicker of frost reflected in her eyes. She whispered almost to herself:"First flame lit… second heart awakening. May the gods forgive us if the cycle completes."
Ren stirred but didn't hear. Outside, snow began to fall on molten wings.
(End scene. Music rises—strings over slow drums.)
[Next on I Can Upgrade My Status by Kissing the Seven Princesses of the World — Chapter 6: Whispers of Ice – Princess Glacielle]