The Phoenix Rises Again

The air is wrong. Heat presses close, too close to breathe easily. There is fire.

Wings. Movement. You fight it the way you’ve learned to fight things

like this. And it ends. Ash falls. Silence. The heat does not

leave. In the old stories, this is where people stopped celebrating. Long before games,

the Phoenix was never meant to be defeated. It did not die in battle.

It burned when its time was complete. Fire took it. Fire returned it. Returned

because the cycle demands it. That’s why it rises again, calm,

whole, untouched by victory. This time, it isn’t a game. This is the Phoenix.