Tyrion felt the wave of heat too. He knew his life was about to end.
But in that final moment, his mind held not fear, but a single thought. So, in the end, this short, contradictory life of mine never escaped the shackles of being branded a "dwarf."
From my birth at Casterly Rock, which my "father" regarded as a disgrace, to my sister Cersei's relentless hatred, and now to the end of my life in such a terrible way.
I once thought wisdom could make up for my body's shortcomings, that loyalty could earn trust, that I could find my own ladder amid this chaos, help a true king, and build a different world.
But in the end, I was just another pawn crushed by the game of power, a wretch who couldn't even choose a dignified death.
The flames drew closer, their searing heat stinging his skin, yet the faintest trace of a bitter smile seemed to curl his lips. Perhaps this is the ending I, Tyrion Lannister, deserve.
To turn to ash in dragonfire, as though I had never truly existed in this world.
"If there is another life, I don't want to be a dwarf again. I want to become a dragon." Those were the last words Tyrion Lannister-or rather, Tyrion Waters-left in this world.
The next moment, dazzling dragonfire swallowed the small figure whole.
The glow of the flames lit up the night sky over the camp, and Viserys's utterly expressionless face.
He stood there quietly, watching Tyrion slowly turn to ash in the flames, as though watching the curtain fall on a play scripted long ago.
When King Ghidorah and Blackflame saw Meraxes breathe dragonfire, they merely cast a lazy glance that way before lowering their heads again, utterly indifferent to the passing of