The sky in Cerza is a restless tapestry of turmoil. Above the rugged, cracked earth, an eternal storm roars with fury, as if challenging anyone daring enough to enter its domain. Lightning dances in chaotic patterns, slicing through the air and creating blinding shards of brilliance. Below, the ground simmers with an intense heat, radiating waves of searing energy that pierce the soles of one's feet like a thousand needles. Cerza is not merely a rocky path leading to Stones; it is a treacherous trial, where only those who can harmonize with the very forces of nature—voltage and amperage—will navigate its dangers without being consumed by the flames of its fury.
As two figures tread cautiously, their footsteps leave faint imprints in the vibrating magnetic dust beneath the overwhelming energy. Fitran, shrouded in a black robe that absorbs the surrounding light, strides forward with an air of calm determination, even as the weight of danger lingers like a shadow. Each breath he takes crackles with electricity, the air thick with rolling waves of charged energy. Beside him, Rinoa—a striking woman with hair the color of embers, a brilliant contrast against the encroaching darkness—extends her empty palm into the tempest, as if attempting to commune with the storm, attuned to the ominous vibrations that hover just beyond the veil of certainty.
"The primary source of the electrostatic field here comes from the fault in front of us," Rinoa murmured, her eyes filled with tension as they locked onto the glowing rocks pulsating with an eerie light. "We're entering a zone of high-voltage fluctuations. Give me a few seconds to align the current." Her voice trembled slightly, weaving a blend of concern and courage that thickened the atmosphere around them, making their breaths feel heavy and the air around them seem electric.
Fitran halted, his gaze fixed on Rinoa, trust etched deep within his worried expression. "Go ahead. I'll watch over you," he assured, his voice steady, cutting through the suffocating silence surrounding them. The heartbeat of their unyielding bond clashed with the howling storm, creating a haunting symphony of uncertainty intertwined with flickers of hope.
Their subsequent steps felt increasingly heavy, as if they were trudging through a thick fog of tension that threatened to snap at any moment. The air, thick and charged with energy, vibrated with an imminent threat that prickled at their skin, heightening their senses. Strands of hair began to rise, reacting instinctively to the unseen danger lurking in the shadows, much like the fur of a dog attuned to ominous sounds. A tingling sensation coursed through their skin, as if countless tiny needles were poking them, serving as a stark reminder of the potential destruction that loomed ominously ahead. Stone pillars around them appeared to melt and swell, their surfaces glowing as if lightning had seared through their very cores, transforming them into rivers of shimmering lava. Rinoa, feeling her heart race wildly, closed her eyes, embracing the intoxicating mixture of fear and courage that surged within her. Within her fragile frame, she faced a monumental trial—striving to recalibrate the electric balance of their chaotic environment in an atmosphere increasingly fraught with danger.
Amidst the chaos, Rinoa discovered an unexpected calm that settled deep within her as she began to regulate the voltage surging around her. With focused determination, she drew positive charges from the cold, hard metallic stones scattered around her, like a sculptor shaping raw materials. With each deliberate motion, she channeled the amperes into the ground, crafting a tranquil flow akin to a serene river meandering through a once-turbulent landscape. Every second stretched eternally, and within the depths of her mind, a burning question echoed relentlessly: how could this delicate flow of energy avert the impending disaster? The natural circuits surrounding her were at their limit; they could not afford to short-circuit. She was not merely fending off an attack; she was engaged in a dance that intertwined with the very heartbeats of the world, upholding hope amid the thick fog of uncertainty. Each fluid movement of her hands created currents that felt almost alive, as if they pulsed with their own spirit; every whisper she uttered resonated with the air, harmonizing the connection between her essence and the expansive sky, confronting the intimidating threats with unwavering bravery.
From Fitran's vantage point, he sensed the vibrations of energy beginning to gather in intensity, akin to the distant rumble of thunder heralding an approaching storm. He understood the gravity of the situation: if these surges exceeded the threshold of Rinoa's endurance, her heart could shatter under the strain, echoing through the eerie silence of the night.
"What's the voltage around your body now?" Fitran asked urgently, his voice thick with a genuine desire to protect her.
"118,000 volts. Still stable... But the amperage is rising too quickly. If it reaches 0.3 A, we'll be fried like grilled fish," Rinoa replied, her voice trembling with fear and tension, each word dripping with the gravity of their perilous situation. Blood trickled from her nose, a stark and unavoidable sign of the danger coursing through her, yet she stood firm, refusing to retreat. Her resolve intensified; the exhaustion weighing down her body would not deter her from their noble goal.
Suddenly, the sky boiled with fury, splintering into a cacophony of chaos that reverberated through the earth.
Red lightning struck with an earth-shattering roar mere meters from them, obliterating a stone pillar into a spray of blazing dust, as if the very fabric of reality was tearing apart. The explosion shook the ground beneath their feet, sending violent tremors racing through the surface, creating shockwaves that rattled deep within their bones. The local magnetic field shattered into a chaotic frenzy, unleashing sparks of energy that flared in sharp bursts, illuminating the sky with bizarre, pulsating colors. In the beat that followed, an oppressive silence fell, wrapping around them like a vice, amplifying the tension that hung thick in the air. Then came the second wave—the entire sky convulsed, exhaling pure electric torrents that swept over them like forceful tides in a sea of molten metal, demanding an unyielding resilience.
Fitran immediately raised his hands, summoning a thin, shimmering magical circle that vibrated in the air as if daring the surging forces around him to challenge its existence. This gesture was not a declaration of war, but a desperate attempt to stabilize the trembling fabric of reality that threatened to unravel. He began to chant in Proto—a soft yet powerful incantation slipping from his lips like a gentle breeze, weaving into the atmosphere. The words, drenched in antiquity, could only be articulated by the bravest souls, those willing to relinquish their very names to the cosmos.
"Thal Vitr'an'Hael, tulan merekh Volt'Vel'Na."
With each syllable, the world pulsed in synchrony with Fitran's heart, enveloped in a magical harmony that resonated deep within the chaos. It felt as if he and the threatening force were engaged in a sacred dance, united against the impending doom. However, even his valiant efforts were proving insufficient. The second wave surged toward them, a fiery cascade that resembled a ravenous tsunami, roaring forth with the intent to annihilate everything in its path, rolling forward with an unstoppable, destructive power.
Rinoa's scream shattered the charged air, her voice piercing through the tumult like shards of crystal scattered in a storm. "Fall back! I need to reset all parameters!"
However, Fitran did not retreat. Instead, he surged forward with a fierce, burning determination, his every step a defiance against the impending wave of destruction rushing toward him. With unwavering resolve, he pricked his own fingers, drawing forth crimson droplets that shimmered like tiny rubies in the chaos. From this self-inflicted sacrifice, he conjured a magical shield—a radiant barrier pulsating with energy. This was no ordinary shield; it was a mystical connection that wove together Rinoa's soul and the turbulent sky above, compelling the storm to pause and negotiate with him before daring to strike at Rinoa.
"Use my heart to reset the field," Fitran said softly, his voice a blend of calm and fervor, yet dark light sparked in his eyes, radiating raw courage amidst the consuming darkness encircling them.
Rinoa stared at him, disbelief etching her features as her heart raced like a wild stallion, desperate to leap from her chest. "You... are crazy," she breathed, each word heavy with concern.
"It's too late to be sane," he replied, his voice vibrating with an unstoppable spirit that reverberated through the turmoil in the air.
Rinoa bit her lip, the taste of blood mingling with panic as her heart thundered, a relentless drumbeat against the stillness of the moment. She grappled with the terrifying risk of using Fitran's heart as a voltage regulator—if their plan failed, his heart might falter, forced to become a generator for the ever-watchful gods. Dark shadows swirled in her thoughts, like jagged forks of lightning threatening to shatter the darkened sky above. Yet, even as fear loomed larger than the tempest, making her breath come in quick gasps, a tiny seed of trust began to flourish in her heart, a flicker of hope battling against the oppressive darkness that engulfed them.
His hands rested gently on Fitran's chest, feeling the rhythmic vibrations of his steady breath even as the storm howled fiercely around them, an unrelenting force of nature. He entered a mantra, not through spoken words, but in a profound silence that enveloped them. It resonated in the air—like a hauntingly beautiful melody that flowed seamlessly, vibrating in sync with the pulse ignited by overwhelming urgency and tension. Slowly, as if responding to their resolve, the storm began to subside, though its menacing presence lingered, swaying ominously as if waiting for their next move. Cerza seemed to hold its breath, the atmosphere thick with anxiety that nipped at their skin like the chill of morning dew.
With a determined focus, Rinoa began to channel high voltage into Fitran's body. The electric surge danced through her, a shivering, tingling sensation that ignited every joint, blending seamlessly with the powerful vibrations coursing through him. Fitran's body quaked violently; his eyes, reddened and glossy, seemed to glimmer with the poison of profound pain. Yet, he remained steadfast, an embodiment of bravery. In those intense moments, courage shone in his gaze, defying uncertainty as if he were poised to conquer the shadows of every looming threat.
With one final movement, Rinoa drew the voltage into herself, feeling the surge of energy electrify every muscle fiber like an unstoppable wave crashing against the shore. She wove it into a radiant spiral, orchestrating the amperes as if composing a symphony waiting to be unleashed, all silently crafting vibrations in the hushed atmosphere. Her body became a living antenna—conducting storms and harnessing nature's wild force, channeling it back to the earth. In that moment, she stood as the vital bridge between two worlds locked in a fierce battle, amidst the exhilarating chaos surrounding them. Suddenly, the world fell silent. The gusts of wind stilled, as if nature itself held its breath—numb in the eye of the turmoil.
Slowly, the dark sky transformed into a calming grayish-blue, reflecting the newfound hope that pierced the oppressive curtain of clouds. The once menacing lightning now paused, suspended in the sky in a tense dance of anticipation as if it stood poised to fulfill a promise of peace. The ground, which had previously vibrated with restless energy, became still, enveloped in a soothing tranquility just before a vibrant storm of colors would reveal its true beauty. Fitran collapsed to his knees, exhaustion and courage weaving together in the arc of his body before he finally succumbed to the earth.
Next to him, Rinoa fell as well, her body sinking like a delicate kite that had lost its wind. Yet, even in the shadow of despair, they were still alive; a wave of relief washed over their souls, intricately entwined by the lingering bitterness of the harrowing ordeal they had just survived.
"Why would you want to do that?" Rinoa asked, her voice trembling as it broke the oppressive silence, cutting through the stillness that enveloped them like a heavy, suffocating blanket. "Do you truly desire death?" she continued, disbelief lacing her tone, while worry gnawed at the deepest corners of her heart, twisting like a relentless vine.
"I'm sorry, Rinoa," he replied hoarsely, each word steeped in profound regret, as if the very syllables were weighted by the burdens he bore, echoing the turmoil within him.
Rinoa, instead of answering, enveloped him in a silent and trembling embrace, her warmth a comforting contrast to the chill of their shattered world. Her eyes, swollen and tender, held the shadows of exhaustion, dark circles underlining the fierce struggle they had just faced, yet they seemed to defy the harsh light of reality that loomed around them.