Upon your world, five seasons have passed since your triumphant homecoming from Britannia.
You have traded the Avatar's life of peril and adventure for the lonely serenity of a world at peace. But television supermen cannot take the place of friends who died at your side!
Outside, a chill wind rises...
And in moments, the storm is upon you.
Tongues of lightning lash the sky, conducting an unceasing crescendo of thunder....
In a cataclysm of sound and light, a bolt of searing blue fire strikes the earth!
Lightning amon the stones! Is this a sign from distant Britannia?
You bolt from your house, stumbling, running blind in the storm. Into the forest, down the path, through the rain... to the stones.
Near the stones, the smell of damp, blasted earth hangs in the air. In a frozen moment of lightning-struck daylight, you glimpse a tiny obsidian stone in the midst of the circle!
Wondering, you pick it up...
… and from the heart of the stones, a softly glowing door ascends in silence!
Exultant memories wash over you as you clutch the stone. When last you saw an orb such as this, it was cast down by Lord British to banish the tyrant Blackthorn!
But your joy soon gives way to apprehension.
The gate to Britannia has always been blue... as blue as the morning sky.
Abruptly, the portal quivers and begins to sink into the ground. Its crimson light wanes!
Desperation makes the decision an easy one.