Chapter 14: Storm Riders and Lightning Bonds
Where monsters strike from the skies, dragons answer with fire, and a boy with the world's rage in his veins earns the loyalty of a tempest.
If you ever find yourself accidentally syncing with the soul of a planet, let me offer some free advice: don't do it while you're seething with cosmic-level rage. That's the kind of mistake you make once—assuming the world doesn't implode first.
Naruto had made that mistake.
It had started with frustration. A few broken rules, some half-truths, and a whole mountain of injustice—that's all it took. The boy who laughed off monsters and made jokes in the face of Immortals had finally snapped. And the world—quite literally—felt it.
Naruto had connected with the Earth. Not through magic or a spell, not even consciously. It had happened the way storms break or wildfires spark—natural, dangerous, and entirely out of control.
Gaea had seen it in his eyes: a brief flicker of something ancient and merciless. For a heartbeat, she saw not Naruto the prankster, not Naruto the kind-hearted warrior—but Naruto the destroyer.
And it terrified her.
After the chaos had died down—after Ella had calmed him, after his breath returned to normal, after he collapsed in the dirt like a burnt-out match—Gaea stood a little apart, arms folded tightly across her chest, watching him sleep beneath the flickering canopy of stars.
The air smelled of ozone and scorched grass. The forest hadn't forgotten.
"Idiot boy," she whispered, though her tone wasn't unkind. "You connected with me, and I connected right back. What were you thinking?"
But she already knew.
He wasn't thinking. That's what made it dangerous.
When Naruto's emotions hit their peak—when he saw the broken children, the wasted lives, the monstrous cruelty of indifference—his soul had flared like a sun. And hers, the ancient will of the Earth, bruised and wrathful from eons of abuse, had flared right back. Rage recognized rage. Pain mirrored pain.
And for one terrifying second, their fury had merged.
She had felt it—words not his but still spoken in his voice: They've lost the right to exist… I'll erase everything wrong in this world…
It hadn't been a threat. It had been a promise.
Gaea knelt beside him now. His face was peaceful, but the earth beneath him was still hot to the touch. As if it remembered the fury it had just tasted. As if it was waiting.
She hesitated, her hand hovering above his brow. She didn't touch him.
She couldn't.
"I wanted this, didn't I?" she murmured to herself. "A champion. A storm given shape. Someone with the strength to tear down the rotted world and plant something better."
But now that she'd seen what lived inside him—seen the terrible beauty of his fury—she wasn't sure anymore.
Because if he didn't learn to control that power…
He wouldn't save the world.
He'd bury it.
"I need you to conquer it," she said softly, leaning close. "Not cage it. Not ignore it. Conquer it. Or it will conquer you."
Naruto stirred in his sleep, brow furrowed. A flicker of gold danced behind his closed eyelids.
Gaea stood. Her gaze swept the trees, the sleeping camp, the broken structures and broken hearts within. The Earth had cried out through him tonight. It had made itself heard.
But if he wasn't careful… next time, it might not stop.
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Naruto's dreams had always been a chaotic playground of weirdness—flying ramen bowls, oversized frogs playing poker, and the occasional ominous prophecy. But this? This dream was on another level.
He was falling into it before he even knew it had begun.
There was no warning. One moment, he was asleep, body nestled between the warmth of companions who had accepted him as more than a legend or weapon—and the next, he was floating. Watching. A ghost in his own head.
"Again?" he muttered, though no sound left his lips. "Seriously?"
This wasn't your run-of-the-mill dream. The moment his awareness clicked in, Naruto felt it—a pulse beneath his feet, a beat from the earth itself. It wasn't comforting. It wasn't welcoming. It was angry.
He blinked—and the world took form.
A vast land stretched beneath him, the curvature of the earth visible as if he stood on the edge of the sky. His world. His home. Except it wasn't right. The colors were too sharp, the wind carried a metallic tang, and the silence... it was the kind of silence that screamed.
And then it happened.
Two columns of emerald energy burst through the sky like a pair of ancient titans trying to shatter the heavens. One surged from the moon, sharp and cold. The other erupted from the planet itself—wild, raw, furious. The two beams collided high above, and when they met, they didn't dance. They fought.
The clash split the sky.
Naruto's breath caught in his throat. A cry, deep and guttural, echoed from the very marrow of the planet. It wasn't just sound—it was rage. A raw, grieving wail that resonated deep in his chest. The type of fury that didn't burn—it quaked. Like a mother watching her children go to war.
And then... from the mist that followed, a figure stepped forth.
He'd seen it before—briefly, vaguely, like something half-remembered from a fever dream. But now it was clearer. Darker. Changed. It raised its hand—fingers curled like talons—as if drawing power not just from the earth, but through it. The energy spiraled. Reality itself buckled—
And then crushed.
Something—someone—slammed into the figure with a force so absolute that the very fabric of the dream trembled. The attack misfired. The sky exploded. The figure vanished in a storm of green and shadow.
Naruto's mind raced. What was that? Who were they? What the hell is happening to my world?
But there were no answers here. Only silence and dread.
And then... the fall.
Naruto felt his stomach drop as gravity reclaimed him. He was plummeting—through darkness, through memories, through emotions he hadn't dared acknowledge since the outburst in the cavern.
Rage.
Not just his. Hers. The Earth's.
It wrapped around him, suffocating. A shared fury so ancient and primal it made his own feel like a child's tantrum. Yet they had mixed—fused in that moment of grief and fury—his pain and hers. His fury had touched Gaea's soul.
And she had felt him.
Just before he hit the bottom—before the emotional dam broke entirely—he woke.
Naruto bolted upright, his lungs sucking in air like he'd been drowning. Sweat clung to his skin. The girls lay beside him, still resting, their presence a balm against the firestorm in his heart. The vision—no, the warning—still seared across his mind like a scar.
He exhaled slowly. Let the dread melt off his skin.
It's okay. I'm still me. I won't let the rage win.
He'd survived worse. Maybe not bigger—but worse.
"There is no need to worry. I will face the problems as they come. Worrying won't make them disappear, so wasting energy on it is a wrong choice. Relax and fight it like usual."
It wasn't just bravado. It was his mantra. His way of facing Immortals, monsters, and cosmic tantrums with a smirk and a battle cry.
A quiet presence stirred beside him.
Gaea.
She didn't appear with thunder or earthquakes—just a whisper of green light and the scent of fresh soil. Her voice carried in his mind, gentle but coiled with emotion.
"I thought I might need to help you, but it seems you are okay. It's good that you've recovered. You feel different than before."
Naruto looked at her. Really looked. And for a moment, he saw not a Immortaldess, not a force of nature, but a mother mourning a million wounds.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I just let the feelings of worry depart. It really makes you feel so different."
Gaea nodded, but her gaze lingered.
She didn't tell him she was scared—of what they'd become if they ever fused again. Of the power his rage had awakened. She didn't say she hoped he'd master it—not for her, but for himself. She didn't say that if he ever lost himself in that fury again, there might not be a world left to come back to.
But she was thinking it.
And Naruto, deep down, knew.
The dream had been a warning. Not of something coming.
But of something already within him.
Something he had to conquer… or become.
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"I can see that," she added. "So, what had you wake up with such fright?"
For a moment, Naruto considered brushing it off. A bad dream. Just nerves. Some leftover draconic indigestion. But the words stuck in his throat. There was something about Gaea—her presence was grounding, even when she was the embodiment of the planet. And, somehow, she wasn't judging him.
He let the silence breathe before answering. "I saw danger heading for my home," he said at last. "I need to return… fight once again."
He hadn't meant for it to sound so final, so full of weight and promise. But it did. The words came out like a vow he hadn't meant to make—but couldn't take back.
Gaea tilted her head, the glow of her eyes dimming slightly in thought. She didn't question him, didn't press. Just sat there, balanced on his head like some ancient crown of curiosity.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The wind shifted through the trees. The fire crackled. Somewhere in the distance, birds finally began to sing.
Naruto gazed at the horizon, thoughts spiraling through battlefields not yet seen. She really is special, he thought. I've never felt anything like this before. I don't want her to leave my side.
It wasn't a romantic thought, at least not entirely. It was deeper than that, rooted in a connection he hadn't even realized he'd forged—something raw and real, like the threads of fate had been tied when he wasn't looking.
He caught himself, clenching his jaw slightly. Now wasn't the time to get caught in those kinds of feelings. Emotions got messy. Emotions got you hurt. But Gaea… she made the silence feel safe, made the weight of his rage feel like it had somewhere to go.
What Naruto didn't see—what he couldn't see—was the way Gaea looked down at him just then. How her ancient eyes, full of every earthquake and storm the world had ever known, softened at his quiet vulnerability.
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Naruto's footsteps were quiet but purposeful. The chaos of the past battles, the crackling fire of rage, and the swirling storm of doubts had all been distilled into a single clear purpose. Today, action wasn't just necessary—it was inevitable.
Albion, the dragon who had been both reluctant ally and unpredictable beast, lifted off without a hint of hesitation. His massive wings beat the air with steady power, as if he'd finally learned that hesitation could cost them everything.
Naruto's eyes didn't waver from the horizon. The landscape below blurred into streaks of green and brown as they ascended higher, but his mind was sharp, every neuron firing with focus. Hope he learns, Naruto thought with a dry humor that didn't quite reach his eyes. Or else we might have to cut him loose somehow.
The woman clinging to his side — Alice — shifted closer, but Naruto didn't even acknowledge her presence. There was no room for distractions. Not now.
"So," came Gaea's voice, low and cryptic, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. "You've finally decided to take back a fragment."
Naruto didn't need more explanation. The unspoken meaning hung between them like a blade suspended by a thread. Albion might have a way to confront what was coming—a method Naruto hadn't dared to fully trust until now.
"Yes," Naruto replied, his tone calm but threaded with urgency. "I need to finish this fast. Time wasn't an issue before. Now…it's slipping through my fingers."
There was a pause, heavy with what neither dared say aloud.
"Be careful," Gaea finally warned, but the question she held back weighed heavily in the silence: Will you kill them if they leave no other choice? She knew better than to ask, for it might unravel the fragile thread holding Naruto's resolve together.
But inside her, the worry gnawed like a restless storm. Once he starts, he'll be in their sights. There's no turning back. No safety net.
Naruto's gaze hardened, cold and steady, fixed on the unknown battle ahead.
Nearby, Gaea fluttered off his shoulder and drifted toward Alice, their eyes meeting in an unspoken pact. With a flicker of her hand, she connected to Alice's mind, her voice solemn and urgent. "Protect Naruto at all costs. Even if he resists your help. If he falls, everything falls."
Alice's eyes burned with fierce determination. "Understood, Mistress. I will give my life to keep him safe."
Gaea nodded, a brief flash of gratitude passing over her ageless features. "Good. You'll be rewarded."
Returning silently to Naruto's side, she skirted around Ella, who would find her own way to speak with him soon enough.
Naruto's thoughts flickered to the past—the recent chaos, the dragon fight, the commotion that might have painted a target on their backs.
I wish I could hunt more freely, he thought, the edge of frustration cutting through his calm. But I've made too much noise to be ignored.
Yet, he didn't regret a single step. Setbacks happen. I don't give up. Never.
With the wind rushing past and the ground falling away beneath them, Naruto's heart beat steady as steel. The storm was coming—and he would be ready.
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An hour after their last battle, the skies still carried the bruises of conflict—dark clouds smearing the heavens, as if someone had spilled ink across the dome of the world and let it bleed.
Alice's eyes snapped open. She clutched the edge of Albion's saddle like the wind had whispered a secret right into her ear.
"I can sense a disturbance in the air," she said, her voice oddly calm for someone talking about incoming doom. "And I believe it's the storm spirits."
Gaea's voice entered Naruto's mind like a cold breeze. "They are enemies—be careful. These are Typhon's spawn. They were born from wrath, and they live for chaos."
Naruto didn't hesitate. He didn't do hesitation. "Albion," he said, "turn around and blast them with your flames."
Albion growled low in his throat—low and dangerous. A heartbeat later, the ten-ton dragon twisted in the air like a dancer pirouetting in a hurricane, his wings slicing through the wind. A sea of lightning split the sky, revealing them.
Horse-shaped monstrosities charged through the clouds—each a storm given flesh, made of crackling fury and screaming wind. Their manes danced like lightning bolts gone feral. One of them reared back and hurled a thunderbolt straight at Albion's flank.
The dragon roared as the bolt connected, but instead of pain, there was fury—a volcanic how dare you that rumbled from his chest. His scales shimmered orange and red, and when he opened his maw, the fire that came out wasn't just heat. It was rage. Liquid sunlight. A solar flare channeled through a draconic furnace.
The first spirit exploded mid-air in a swirl of sparks.
The others, less bold, scattered.
"Keep pushing!" Naruto shouted, standing atop Albion's back like some kind of anime war Immortal. He raised a hand, his own aura sparking—half flame, half wind. The storm spirits answered, swarming him with arcs of jagged electricity. But Naruto just smiled.
He had fought worse.
Much worse.
One of the spirits dove toward him, and then—snap. The temperature dropped like a corpse in a river. The sky trembled.
Something else had joined the battle.
Gaea's voice screamed into his mind, sharper now, more urgent. "An Eidolon! Be careful, Naruto!"
Eidolons weren't just shadows. They were whispers from the Underworld, spirits that possessed living things and turned them into puppets. And right now, one was sliding its way toward Albion's mind like an oil slick.
Naruto clenched his fists. "Unfortunately," he muttered, "I'm not a good target."
The Eidolon tried to latch onto him—but found only light. Light and heat and stubborn, ridiculous hope. Naruto's spirit flared, and that light poured into Albion, chasing the darkness from the dragon's mind like dawn across a haunted battlefield.
The Eidolon screeched and vanished.
The storm spirits faltered.
And Naruto? He was just getting started.
With a gesture, he pulled on the air currents, condensing them around the last storm spirit. It bucked and fought, but he held it fast—compressing its energy, crushing its defiance with nothing but willpower and wind.
It howled in protest.
Naruto held it like a fist full of thunder.
"Is there a way to tame this thing?" he asked casually, like he wasn't gripping an immortal force of nature between his metaphorical fingers.
Gaea paused. Her voice, when it returned, was thoughtful—concerned. "Yes. Feed it your power. Keep influencing it with your lightning and wind. Dominate it with your will, and it will submit. You can tame it."
Naruto's eyes sparkled. "Cool. I always wanted a lightning partner."
The storm spirit thrashed again, then went still—bound in a cage of swirling air and elemental pressure. It wasn't beaten. Not yet. But it was his now.
Gaea's thoughts raced: My son's storm spirit scouts are here already, sizing up Naruto. They see him as a threat, worthy of notice. Luckily, his resistance is stronger than we thought. This won't end badly for him—if he keeps his head.
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If someone had told Naruto that by the end of the day he'd be riding a lightning-charged storm spirit horse across the sky like some elemental Ghost Rider, he probably would've laughed, pranked them with a stink bomb, and moved on.
But here he was, wreathed in living lightning, streaking across the heavens on something that used to be a wrathful force of Typhon's temper tantrums.
The storm spirit neighed beneath him, its body crackling with electric arcs and streaming winds. Its form shifted and shimmered with every gust of air, unstable by nature but now bending to Naruto's will. With one hand on the ethereal reins and the other channeling his nature chakra, Naruto focused.
He didn't just ride the beast—he fused with it.
"Alright, buddy," Naruto said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "let's take this partnership up a notch."
Green light surged through his fingers, wrapping around the storm spirit like ivy on lightning. Nature chakra bled into the raw chaos of the horse's form, weaving order into wildness. The storm spirit shuddered, fought back briefly—but Naruto held steady, pouring calm and command into it like roots digging into bedrock.
Then it happened.
The beast howled once, then shifted beneath him—not just in loyalty, but in shape.
Its legs retracted into wheels of swirling storm clouds rimmed with blazing silver. Its torso condensed into a sleek chassis of dark wind and living metal, trimmed with veins of glowing chakra. A handlebar jutted out from the neck, humming with static. The head remained vaguely equine, though now more like the masked skull of some forgotten beast—flames licking out of the eye sockets and nostrils.
Naruto blinked. "Oh, that's sick."
"Is that... a motorcycle?" Alice's voice crackled through the air, her tone halfway between awe and disapproval.
Naruto revved the storm-cycle. Lightning howled in response. "Nope," he said. "Storm Rider."
Without waiting for approval (or common sense), Naruto took off—blasting through the air with a sonic boom that made even Albion stagger mid-flight.
Wind lashed his face. Clouds parted. Lightning danced like fireflies in his wake. Naruto wasn't just fast—he was a living bolt now, carving arcs across the sky like Zeus with ADHD and a taste for style.
But Naruto wasn't done being awesome.
He reached behind his back—and willed.
Nature energy surged again, responding not just to his power, but to his imagination. Metal formed in his hand. It lengthened, twisted, clicked into place with a hiss of steam and electricity. In seconds, he was holding a weapon no storm warrior should have—an elemental shotgun, built of wind-forged steel and bound with runes of compression and amplification.
"Gotta love nature chakra," Naruto murmured, checking the weight. "Alright, let's test this baby out."
A flock of harpies, perhaps mistaking him for an actual demon riding a ghost bike from Tartarus, shrieked and dove.
Naruto aimed.
The shotgun pulsed once—and with a BOOM, a shockwave of compressed air and lightning blasted forward, sending the harpies spinning like leaves in a typhoon.