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Chapter 7 - Chapter 7 - The Storm Inside

The rain fell in sheets, drumming like a war drum over Kagura City. It wasn't just water anymore, it was energy, alive, responding to the emotions it had absorbed for years. And tonight, it seemed drawn to Ren Kurozawa.

Ren stood in the middle of an empty plaza, hands trembling, eyes glowing faint violet. Memories of every Ethereal he had touched, every scream, every laugh, every regret, surged through him.

> "Ren… stop!" Aira's voice cut through the chaos.

She stood at the edge of the plaza, her silver gun aimed, but her hands shook.

"You're losing control!"

Ren's lips moved, whispering words he didn't fully understand, calling forth echoes like a conductor summoning an orchestra. The rain above him spiraled, forming giant, shimmering Ethereals, all overlapping memories, all alive, all screaming.

> "I… I can feel them all!" he cried.

"I can… I can save them!"

Aira ran toward him, dodging phantom limbs and shards of memory.

> "No! You're going to destroy yourself — and everyone around you!"

The plaza's concrete cracked. Lights flickered. Cars floated as if caught in some invisible current. Ren's energy pulsed outward, forming a storm that mirrored the pain and grief inside him.

> "It's too much!" Aira shouted, firing her gun.

Energy hit Ren, but instead of harming him, it scattered some of the Ethereal fragments.

Ren gasped, staggering backward. The fragments dissolved into soft light — peaceful now, almost like sighs. But the storm was far from over.

> "I… I can't stop it!" Ren screamed.

From the rooftops, Shouma appeared, calm and composed, watching the chaos.

> "Ah… yes. That's it. Let it rise. Let him feel the storm."

> "Shouma!" Aira shouted.

"Why are you letting this happen?!"

> "Because," Shouma replied quietly, "true power comes from understanding the storm inside, not from controlling it. He must see the weight of grief, the depth of pain… or he'll never be ready for what's coming."

---

Ren's vision blurred. Faces overlapped: the girl from the first Ethereal, his mother, the child who had screamed in the Black Rain, even strangers he had absorbed in memories. Every face cried out simultaneously.

And then — a whisper.

> "Ren… you are not alone."

Aira stepped closer, putting herself between him and the rising storm.

> "I'm here. We're here. You can control it together."

Ren's hand glowed brighter. His vision cleared slightly. He reached out, touching one of the Ethereal fragments, a little girl smiling through the rain. The storm reacted. It slowed, hesitated, and then began to shrink.

> "Focus on feeling, not absorbing!" Aira shouted.

"Channel it into understanding, not into destruction!"

Ren took a deep breath. He imagined the memories not as pain, but as pieces of a story, fragments that needed to be heard, not erased.

The storm began to collapse inward, the Ethereals dissolving into gentle glimmers of light that floated into the sky. The rain slowed to a soft drizzle.

Ren fell to his knees, exhausted. Every muscle ached. Every memory still resonated in him, but now it was manageable, a symphony rather than a hurricane.

Aira knelt beside him. Her eyes were tired but softer than before.

> "You did it," she said quietly.

"You… actually controlled it."

Ren looked up at the city. The rain had stopped for the first time in hours. The city seemed to breathe again.

> "I… I didn't destroy anyone," he whispered.

"I just… listened."

Shouma, watching from a distance, smirked faintly.

> "Good. He's stronger than I expected… stronger than even the Choir anticipated."

And somewhere, in the heart of the city, the storm left a single lingering ripple, a reminder that grief never truly ends, only waits.

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End of Chapter 7

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