Lightning tore open the sky, illuminating a massive storm brewing over the northern horizon. Winds howled, bending the skeletal trees as rain began to fall sideways in sheets of icy needles.
Selka and Caelum pushed forward into the tempest. Shadow wolves leapt from the maelstrom, but Caelum's ice powers flared stronger than ever. They froze packs mid-leap, shattered them with sweeps of their katana. The storm grew wilder with every step, thunder rolling like a heartbeat.
At the storm's center stood the masked figure himself, cloak snapping in the winds. He raised a hand — and shadowy tendrils lashed out, slamming Caelum back into the mud. The villain's voice carried even through the roar: "Your sorrow is exquisite. It will shape the worlds to come."
Caelum forced themselves to their feet. Blood trickled down their temple. Gripping the katana with both hands, they screamed, unleashing a cyclone of freezing wind that met the villain's shadows head-on. The clash cracked trees, split stone, and sent shockwaves tearing through the storm.
For a moment, the two forces balanced — then the villain withdrew, cloak twisting into the darkness as his voice echoed: "The Shrine awaits you, broken child."
The storm collapsed into eerie silence, snow drifting gently over the shattered clearing. Caelum fell to their knees, breath ragged. Selka helped them up.
"You survived him," she whispered, eyes wide with wonder — and fear.
Caelum looked out over the storm-wracked land, resolve sharpening like ice. "Then I will find the Shrine. And I will end this."