The city waited, but I didn't. My boots hit the asphalt hard, the storm inside me humming like it had a heartbeat, syncing perfectly with mine. Every pulse of energy in my body made the air crackle. Each shard of glass, each spinning leaf, each scrap of paper caught in the wind, it wasn't chaos. It was opportunity. Every flicker, every rustle, every shadow carried potential, if I could only read it right.
I took a step, and the wind whipped past me, tugging at my clothes, pulling my hair in all directions, teasing me. The storm pulsed in response. It was alive, and somehow it knew me. It wasn't just an extension of my power. It was a voice. It was the world, trembling at my presence, testing me, whispering questions I didn't fully understand. But I answered anyway.
Then it came, the presence. Heavy. Ground-shaking. It wasn't subtle. Like a mountain walking just beyond the city limits, crushing the earth beneath it with each step, Drokmar announced himself.
Great, I thought. Just what I need. Giant rock man coming for a chat. Perfect.
I ducked behind a parked car, heart hammering. Maybe a little fear. Mostly curiosity. I wanted to see the scale, the energy, the way a human could embody something so… impossible.
The shadow fell. Massive. Stone muscles, broad as buildings, skin glinting like molten metal caught in sunlight. Drokmar. I'd read about beings like him in academy texts, legends, exaggerations, but nothing prepared me for this. His eyes were calm, unmovable, like a placid lake hiding a tidal wave. And yet I could feel him probing, calculating, measuring everything I did.
I swallowed. "Uh… hi?" Words. Because I figured maybe words helped in situations like this.
He tilted his head slightly. No words. Just weight, presence, a force that made the ground itself seem like it might crumble beneath me. Recognition lingered there, though. Something familiar, something… like destiny.
Before I could collect myself, the air rippled. Tiny at first, almost a tickle across my senses. Then the faint distortion grew, milliseconds bending, seconds folding. Aurelius.
The strategist. He didn't walk; he flowed. Each step precise, deliberate. Every movement calculated. He paused a few meters away, eyes glinting faint amusement, like he had already solved the puzzle of my life in three moves. I tried to act casual. Failed miserably. "Uh… hi again?"
No answer. Just the feeling that every beat of my heart, every twitch of a finger, was logged somewhere in his invisible ledger of inevitability.
And then… shadows. Lyren.
The air turned icy. Light flickered and died where she moved. One moment, she was nothing but alley, the next, a blade gleamed in her hand, appearing as if conjured from darkness itself. Silent, lethal, loyal only to herself. She circled, predator testing prey, and I could do nothing but watch. Swallow. Survive.
Something bigger stirred. Something hotter. A tremor rolled through the streets, distant yet palpable. Varok. The Iron Prince. I didn't see him, but I felt him. Hunger, ambition, power. It pulled at me, and the storm pulsed in response.
I closed my eyes. Breath in. Breath out. Heart hammering. Thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind.
I opened them. Green eyes blazing. Hair sticking up like I'd been struck by lightning. And I smiled.
"Alright. Let's see what all of you want."
The storm surged. Shards of glass, splintered wood, leaves, dust, they spun, rose, whirled, answering my call. The city seemed to hold its breath. I could feel it watching. Waiting.
Drokmar's fists clenched. Earth shifted under him, rocks cracking, a subtle nod of acknowledgment. Aurelius tilted his head with that infuriating faint smirk. Lyren's blade flickered. And far away, I could sense Varok, waiting, calculating, planning his first move.
The first wave of soldiers approached. I leapt onto a nearby car roof. Wind tore through my clothes, pulled at my hair, but I felt alive, every nerve ending screaming with energy. I raised my hands. Lightning licked my fingers, jagged and bright. Debris responded. Concrete chunks hovered, wood spiraled, glass danced.
The storm and I were one. It answered my thoughts before I fully formed them. I shaped the shards into shields, barriers, and blades in the blink of an eye. The soldiers hesitated. Surprise flickered across their eyes. Some turned to flee. Others charged blindly, teeth gritted, ignorance their only shield.
Drokmar moved first. Each step sent shards flying, rocks ripping from the ground to become his weapons. Aurelius weaved around the debris, milliseconds stretching and snapping as if time itself were his puppet. Lyren vanished into shadows, reappearing to strike at the closest soldier with deadly precision. And I… I danced between them all, storm answering my every impulse, testing my own limits.
I felt something new, a thrill deeper than fear or adrenaline. Control. Power. Connection. The storm wasn't just mine. It trusted me. It chose me. And I could feel its energy pushing me forward, urging me to test limits I didn't even know existed.
I let the wind rise higher. Glass spun into spinning discs. Concrete shards hovered like sentinels. Dust swirled into a miniature cyclone. The first wave of soldiers crashed against my defenses, staggering back under the force of my storm. Some screamed, some froze, some tried to fight. I laughed, wild and reckless.
"Step up!" I shouted. My voice carried like thunder, bouncing off the alley walls. "Let's see what you've got!"
Drokmar's fists swung. Rocks became hammers, walls became shields. Aurelius calculated every millisecond, his movements precise, elegant, terrifying. Lyren's blade glinted in flashes, slicing shadows and soldiers alike. And above it all, I felt the tug of Varok's presence, the promise of fire and steel waiting just out of reach.
I let the storm pulse harder. Debris, shards, dust, wind, all rose and swirled with increasing ferocity, a symphony of chaos and control. The city itself seemed alive, responding to my command, waiting to see if I could truly lead this force.
And then, for the first time, I understood something I hadn't realized before.
I wasn't just chosen. I wasn't just marked. I was the spark that could ignite the storm, the conductor of chaos. And whatever came next, Drokmar, Aurelius, Lyren, Varok, or the storm itself, it wasn't going to wait for me.
I grinned, eyes blazing. This was no longer about survival. This was about proving, controlling, mastering. The storm wasn't just my weapon. It was my companion, my challenge, my reckoning.
And I was ready.