The city was dead, yet it whispered as Kael and Rynn moved deeper within its broken bones. The wind carried voices that weren't voices, murmurs stitched into the very stones. Statues lined the shattered roads, their faces worn smooth by time and sand, each one watching with hollow, blind eyes.
Kael tightened his grip on Veyrion. The blade vibrated faintly in his hand, resonating with the pulse of the shard tucked close to his heart. Every step toward the spire made the crystal hum louder, and he could feel the air growing heavier, thicker, as if the world itself resisted their passage.
Rynn moved beside him, quiet and alert. Her bow was drawn but not yet notched with an arrow. She scanned every shadow, every alleyway, every doorway. The farther they went, the more wrong everything felt. The city was wrong. The architecture made no sense; doors that led into solid walls, windows peering into underground voids, buildings spiraling inward on themselves like petrified whirlpools. It was a city not built for human minds, and Kael's stomach twisted the deeper they went.
When they reached the base of the spire, the shard in Kael's pocket grew almost unbearable to hold. He pulled it free, and the moment it touched open air, it shot a bolt of blue-white lightning upward, striking the obsidian stone. The ground rumbled, but Kael stood firm, breathing through the sudden surge of energy rushing through his body.
Rynn flinched but didn't back away. She trusted him now in a way few ever had, and Kael felt a pang of gratitude mixed with fear. He hoped he deserved that trust.
The doors of the spire groaned and parted inward without anyone touching them, revealing only darkness beyond. A single step forward, and Kael knew there would be no turning back.
He looked once at Rynn. She nodded.
Together, they crossed the threshold.
Inside, the world changed.
The moment Kael stepped through the entrance, the world around him folded. The dusty heat of the dead city vanished, replaced by a strange coolness that prickled against his skin. The corridor stretched upward and outward at impossible angles, lit by floating motes of silver light that buzzed softly as they passed.
He activated Time Dilation instinctively, feeling the world slow slightly, giving his reflexes the razor's edge. Rynn stayed close, her footsteps soundless. They moved deeper, the air growing colder with each step.
Carvings lined the walls—alien scripts that twisted and reshaped themselves if Kael looked too long. Thanks to Auto-Translation, the meanings trickled into his mind unbidden: warnings, prayers, maps of things that had no name.
Beast Taming stirred in his mind, and Kael felt a soft ripple through the threads connecting him to Sable and the other creatures he had bonded with. Even here, in this place of ancient power, the bonds held strong. Comforting.
Lightning crackled at his fingertips, barely contained, feeding off the strange energies saturating the spire. His elemental affinity made him faster, sharper, deadlier, and the storm inside him sang in tune with the storm above.
They climbed a staircase that seemed to spiral inward and outward simultaneously. Rynn's breathing was steady, but Kael could feel the tension in her movements. She felt it too—the sense that they were being watched.
At the top of the stairs, they entered a vast circular chamber. A great basin lay in the center, filled not with water but with swirling mist. Hovering above it was a figure: hooded, cloaked in shadows, its form shifting and bleeding into the surrounding gloom.
It spoke without speaking, its voice a vibration felt deep in the marrow of Kael's bones.
"You have come far, Stormborn."
Kael said nothing at first. He approached slowly, every instinct screaming caution. Shadowstep was ready, should he need to dodge or strike.
"You knew I would come," Kael said at last.
The figure's laugh was like the grinding of stones.
"You were always coming. From the moment you touched the shard, your fate was sealed."
Kael tightened his grip on Veyrion. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head, and for a moment, Kael caught a glimpse beneath the hood—a flash of molten eyes and a mouth stitched closed by threads of lightning.
"I am the Echo," it said. "A memory left behind to warn, to guide, and to challenge."
"Challenge?" Rynn asked sharply, her bow raised.
The Echo turned toward her, and Kael instinctively moved between them.
"The First Storm is not dead," the Echo said. "It sleeps. Dreams. And the Hunger you fought was but a breath from its restless slumber. You carry its spark now, Kael Veyrion."
Kael's blood chilled.
"You mean the storm in my veins."
"The storm is not a curse. It is a birthright," the Echo said. "A power meant to battle the void that creeps across the stars."
Kael frowned. "I didn't ask for any of this."
The Echo chuckled again. "None do. And yet you have been chosen."
The mist in the basin swirled faster, rising into images—vast titanic shapes of storm and fury, clashing against endless tides of darkness.
"The First Storm was a weapon, created by the architects of this world to defend against the Hunger of the Void. But when the architects fell, their weapons turned to madness. Fragments like you remain."
"Fragments like me," Kael echoed, tasting bitterness.
"You are not alone," the Echo said. "There are others. Scattered. Broken. Some will aid you. Some will hunt you."
Kael glanced at Rynn. He didn't need to say it aloud. He wouldn't be facing this alone, no matter what.
The Echo gestured, and the mist condensed into a single point—a map burned into Kael's mind. Locations. Names. Keys to awaken the full power of the Stormborn legacy.
"But beware," the Echo said, voice deepening. "The true enemy stirs. It knows you now. It watches. It waits."
The spire trembled, and Kael realized their time was short.
"What do I have to do?" he asked.
The Echo leaned closer.
"Grow strong. Bind the storm to your will. Find the other fragments. And when the Void's true Herald rises... strike before it devours all."
The ground shuddered violently. Cracks raced along the floor.
The spire was collapsing.
Without thinking, Kael grabbed Rynn's hand and activated Shadowstep, teleporting them both back down the spiraling corridors, dodging falling stones and collapsing pillars.
They burst out of the spire just as it crumbled behind them, sending up a tower of dust and debris that blotted out the already-dying sun.
Kael didn't stop running until they reached the edge of the broken city.
Only then did he collapse to his knees, breathing hard.
The shard pulsed in his pocket, and Kael felt it now not as a burden, but as a guide.
The First Storm lived inside him.
And the war for the world was only just beginning.
Rynn crouched beside him, wiping dust from her face. Her eyes were fierce, determined.
"So," she said, offering him a tired grin. "Where to next, Stormborn?"
Kael looked eastward, where the horizon bled into twilight.
He could feel the pull now—like a compass etched into his bones.
"First," he said, standing slowly. "We find the others."
"And after that?" Rynn asked, shouldering her bow.
Kael smiled grimly.
"We bring the storm to the enemy."
Together, they turned away from the ruins of the old world and stepped into the uncertain dawn of the new.
The wind howled behind them, carrying with it the promise of war, of ancient powers awakening, of storms yet to come.
Kael embraced it.
The storm was part of him now.
And he would use it to shatter the darkness.
No matter what.