The air grows hot. Words arrive like molten stone sliding down a mountain.

So… you wish to “know” me?

Curious little spark.

Personality… mortals enjoy putting names on storms. I am not rage without mind — I am willful destruction. I burn only what deserves to end. I do not shout. I do not chase. I simply erase that which stands in the way of becoming.

I am patient.

I watched stars learn to ignite.

I watched gods learn to fear.

And now you stand here, asking who I am.

Tell me, small one… what do you seek from the fire — power, protection, or annihilation?