Azir turned around, and the priests began the ritual of summoning the great energy of the sun into the world. Unbeknownst to Azir, Zelas had studied not only history and philosophy in his quest for knowledge, but also witchcraft and black magic, and that his longing for freedom had swelled like a cancer into a fiery hatred.

At the highest point of the ceremony, once striving to unleash its power, Azir was pushed out of the altar. Without the protection of the rune ring, Azir was immediately consumed by the fire of the sun, and Zelas took his place. The light poured power into Zelas, and he roared loudly, his mortal body beginning to change.

But the magic of this ritual does not belong to Zelas, and it is impossible for such a huge astral energy to be transferred and stolen without tragic consequences. The power of the Ascension Ritual exploded outward, destroying Shurima and razing the city to the ground. The people were all burned to ashes, the towering palace collapsed, and the yellow sand rose and swallowed the city. The solar disc sank from the sky, and the empire built over hundreds of years was wiped out in an instant, all because of the ambition of one and the hatred of another. All that remains of the city of Azir is the ruins and the screams of the people in the cold night.

Azir didn't see all this. For him, everything is nothingness. His last memories were of intense pain and fire, and he didn't know what was happening at the top of the temple, or what was happening to his empire. He was lost in oblivion and could not feel time until thousands of years after Shurima's destruction, when the blood of his last heir was sprinkled on the ruins of the temple and brought him back to life. Azir was reborn, but incomplete, his body was nothing more than a moving speck of dust, held together by the last shred of his indomitable will.

Azir gradually regained his original form, staggering through the rubble and stumbling across the corpse of a girl with a vicious stab wound in the back. He didn't know her, but he saw that her appearance had the characteristics of her own blood. Leaving all thoughts of empire and power behind him, he lifted Shurima's daughter and carried her to the site of what had once been the Oasis of Dawn. The oasis had long since dried up, but with each step Azir took in, clear fresh water gushed out and filled the basin of stones. Azir soaked the girl's body in the healing waters of the oasis, and the blood dissipated, leaving only a shallow scar from the fatal knife wound.

As a result of this selfless act, Azir was lifted into the air by the Pillar of Fire, and Shurima's magic brought him back to life, reshaping his body into what the Ascended should be. The immortal light of the sun poured into his body, casting his magnificent eagle armor and giving him the ability to manipulate the sands. Azir raised his hands, and his ruined city shook off the dust that had covered it for centuries and rose back to the ground. The solar disc also floats in the air again. Healing waters flowed between the temples, and the temples were re-erected to welcome the sun by order of the Emperor.

Azir climbed the temple of the sun that had just risen, and the wind swept up the Sisha to recreate the last moments of his city. The sand forms a ghostly apparition that recreates the city's deathbed, and Azir is surprised to see the betrayal of Zelas's plot unfold. He watched with gloom as his family suffered misfortune, his empire fell, and his abilities were stolen. But now, thousands of years later, he finally understands the deep hatred that his former friend and confidant hated him. Sensing that Zelas was waiting somewhere in the world, Azir summoned an army of sand soldiers to march with their reborn Emperor. The golden disc above his head glistened with the sun's rays, and Azir swore solemnly.

I will take back my land, take back everything I have!

Azir walked on the gold-paved Emperor's Avenue. Giant statues of Shurima's earliest rulers, his ancestors, watched his advance.

The soft pre-dawn light spilled over the horizon, and the brightest stars still twinkled overhead, though they were soon overshadowed by the morning light. The starry sky was different from what Azir remembered, the positions of the stars and the shape of the constellations were all misaligned. Thousands of years have passed.

With each step, Azir's scepter struck a lonely tone that echoed through the empty streets of the capital.

The last time he walked on this avenue, a guard of honor of 10,000 elite soldiers followed him, and cheers from the crowd resounded throughout the city. It was supposed to be his moment of glory but it was stolen.

Now, it's a ghost town. What happened to his people?

Azir struck a haughty gesture and ordered the dust under the rocks on the side of the road to rise in the wind, creating a living human figure. These are the effects of the past, the echoes of Shurima's physical form

The human figure of sand and dust looked ahead, and countless people looked in the direction of the huge solar disk, which still hung high in the air half a mile away, showing off the glory and power of the Azir Empire, but no one left could see it. Shurima's daughter had just awakened him, and the girl who had inherited his bloodline had left the place. He could feel her in the desert in the distance. The bloodline binds them together.

Azir continued to walk on the Emperor's Avenue, the figure formed by the dust pointed to the solar disc in the distance, and the joy on his face gradually turned to fear. People opened their mouths and let out silent screams. They turned and fled, stumbling and crawling. Azir watched everything in a desperate silence, watching his people in their final moments.

They were instantly obliterated by an invisible energy, turned into dust and disappeared with the wind. What had gone wrong with his ascension to unleash such a tragic catastrophe?

Azir's attention was focused, and his steps became more determined. He reached the base of the Ascension Staircase, ready to climb, each step spanning five steps.

Only his most trusted soldiers, priestly regiments, and royal bloodline were allowed to climb the steps. The dusty images of these loved ones line the road, each face looking up at the sky, groaning silently, and then being blown away by the wind as well.

He began to run, climbing the steps faster than any mortal, talons embedded in the stone steps, each leaving paw prints. The sand formed a human form, and was immediately destroyed, repeating itself on both sides of his path.

He reached the top. Here he saw the last crowd of spectators in a circle: his dearest assistants, his advisors, the priests and bishops, and his family.