A world wrapped in darkness awaited its awakening. The air crackled charged with otherworldly energy. The storm, born from the clash of celestial forces, cast an eerie glow upon the land.

The heavens trembled, their celestial canopy obscured by an impenetrable shroud of thick, roiling clouds. Lightning danced across the night sky and the earth rumbled.

The landscape, cloaked in shadows, exuded an air of mystique and foreboding as every creature that could hid itself from the coming storm.

Towering trees stood like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches reaching out as if to grasp the secrets whispered upon the wind. The leaves rustled with an ominous undertone, their whispers carrying the weight of hidden dark knowledge.

As the storm gathered strength, raindrops began to fall, their gentle patter transforming into a deluge that drummed a haunting rhythm upon the leaves and earth below.

A narrow path wound through the dense forest, vanishing into the mist-shrouded horizon and leading to a lonely temple. The shrouded figures stood unmoving guarding the temple fanatically. The wind could not move them and the rain could not break them.

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Deep within the temple. Within a chamber, an old man's slumber shattered, and the scene transformed into a stage of spectral hues. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows upon the tapestries adorning the walls, their figures caught in an eternal dance between glory and despair. The scent of incense, woven with the old man's dreams, hung heavy in the air, mingling with the rising scent of apprehension.

Yet the quiet serenity was broken by a curdling howl of the old man. "From the tempest's birth. Souls entwined. The martyr. The high born. The jesters cry. The sun's descents. The shadows lie! The Storm is coming! STORM IS COMING!"

As the prophecy faded into echoes. The veiling of agony and monstrous roars of hunger filled the chamber.

The old man's body convulsed with otherworldly grace, his limbs elongating and contorting into grotesque proportions. The chamber itself quaked beneath the onslaught of his metamorphosis, the tapestries on the walls trembling in unison.

The door swung open and looks of horror filled the eyes of those whose gaze fell upon what lay before them.

Screams of fear filled the halls of the temple, all of which slowly died. And soon silence took place and only the sound of the storm could be heard.

Forever raging on.

A storm was coming.