The storm did not calm down.
If anything, it sharpened, pressing in closer with every step.
The Fork had always been a dangerous place, filled with shattered pieces of broken worlds and crumbling illusions that bled into one another. It was never a land of peace, only of conflict and decay. But now the storm felt different. It wasn't just wild chaos tearing at the edges of reality—it had purpose.
As Kaito and Nyra moved forward, the winds and cracks of light twisted around them, drawing tighter, like a tunnel forming out of the wreckage.
It was as if the storm itself wanted to guide them, or trap them, pushing them toward something waiting ahead. Toward a final test that neither of them could avoid.
The air was sharp and alive, filled with the crackle of lightning that traced bright scars across the broken horizon. Every strike lit the sky for a heartbeat, showing how torn the world had become.
