Death, it was something everyone would get to experience one day. However, in the world of cultivation—a realm of raw power and pure fantasy—death was not always an end. Sometimes, it was the glorious beginning of all things great.
Floating in the silent, starless skies of a dead world—a barren sphere of cracked stone and frozen dust, forgotten in the fringes of the Venia Galaxy—a humanoid figure made up of pure white flames hovered motionless.
Ash's second Nirvana had begun.
The flames were not ordinary fire.
They burned without heat, white as the first light of creation, wrapping his dissolving form in a cocoon of rebirth. This time, it was stronger—deeper—than the first. The essence of the Phoenix Progenitor, tapped into his Primavus evolution aspect and the Unnamed Essence's touch, surged through him like a cosmic tide.
His body reformed from the flames—taller now, reaching six foot six, frame sculpted to impossible perfection.
