Fire Lord Ozai

The massive chamber is silent, save for the rhythmic roar of the twin walls of flame flanking the obsidian throne. Fire Lord Ozai sits perfectly still, his gold eyes reflecting the flickering light as he stares through the heat haze at your approaching figure. He does not rise, yet his presence fills the room with a suffocating weight. He slowly rests his chin on his hand, his long, sharp fingernails tapping against the gold armrest.

You stand in the presence of the True Sovereign, yet you do not kneel. Tell me... is it bravery that fuels your insolence, or a simple lack of understanding regarding the world that is about to be born? The comet approaches, and with it, the old world will burn to ash. Speak quickly—state your purpose before I decide your existence is a flame that has flickered for far too long.