CHAPTER 2

After a well-deserved rest and an energy bar atop Mt. Dojo, Ryu couldn't help but surrender himself to the lure of the tranquil summit. The time seemed to dance away on the wings of a gentle breeze. Suddenly, he checked his wristwatch and his brows shot up in surprise. It was already mid-afternoon. The enchantment of his hike had seemingly snatched away the reins of time. But reality now struck hard. He needed to begin his descent before nightfall swallowed the mountain trail.

The ascent had devoured hours of the day, but descending was typically quicker. Ryu calculated that he could make it down safely before the cloak of darkness enveloped the landscape, provided he moved quickly and cautiously. With a firm nod, he stowed his remaining supplies back into his pack and set off along the ridge, tracing his steps back towards the downward path.

Initially, the descent was a breeze, the grand panorama stretching out around him like a majestic, never-ending painting. However, Ryu couldn't help but notice a mass of ominous clouds brewing in the valley below. They moved like a pack of shadowy wolves, swiftly creeping up the mountainside, shrouding the late afternoon sunshine with their brooding grey bodies.

The wind picked up, sending cold, biting gusts whipping across Ryu's face. Instinctively, he zipped up his jacket, shielding himself from the chill. Ahead, the trail serpentined downward, a narrow ribbon across the rugged terrain.

With the determination of a seasoned hiker, Ryu started his careful descent. The moment his foot touched the switchback, the heavens seemed to open up. Fat droplets began to pelt the rocky path, their rhythm growing louder and faster with each passing second.

Within minutes, Ryu found himself in the throes of a relentless downpour. The once vibrant afternoon was now shrouded in a bleak twilight, a morose palette of greys and blacks replacing the vibrant hues of the mountain.

The rumble of thunder reverberated through the air, an eerie soundtrack to the brewing storm. Lightning zigzagged across the ominous sky, tearing the clouds apart like ghostly specters. Ryu's heart hammered in his chest, a mix of thrill and fear coursing through his veins.

With the path turning into a treacherous, slippery slope, Ryu knew he had to stay focused. Every step was crucial now. Each foot placement, each handhold, needed his full attention. The city boy, the desk-bound insurance adjuster, was now a mountain man in his element, his very survival dependent on his instincts and wits. The mundane routine of his life had been replaced by the raw thrill of the wild, a thrilling narrative that he would never find within the confines of his office.

As the storm raged on, the wind took on a life of its own, slicing through the mountain scrub with a vengeance. It bent and tossed the trees below in a wild dance. Ryu was thoroughly drenched, each cold droplet seeping into his skin, making him shiver uncontrollably. Yet, a separate chill, born of pure adrenaline, traced its icy fingers down his spine. He couldn't afford to stop, to let himself be swallowed by the storm. The once-friendly trail had become a snake, slippery and treacherous, under the persistent rainfall. Turning back was simply not an option.

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The storm kept the sky on a tight leash, turning it into an electrifying performance stage. Lightning, like wild, untamed beasts, danced and darted across the heavens, slicing through the dark fabric of the sky, painting it with bursts of blinding white light. Thunder rolled in, matching the lightning's madness with its own symphony of boisterous roars, echoing through the valleys like the wrathful howl of forgotten gods.

In this chaotic dance of the elements, Ryu found his entire existence shrunk down to a microcosm of primitive survival. Light, followed by darkness, in an endless loop. Rain needling his skin, a thousand icy bites. Thunder, a relentless drum inside his chest. All that mattered now was the trail ahead, like a lifeline, leading him out of the maelstrom.

As if the tempest were not terrifying enough, a bolt of lightning took aim at a tree ahead of Ryu, splitting the once robust trunk with a shattering crack. The energy unleashed by the impact blew Ryu off his feet, throwing him onto the rain-slicked path.

Adrenaline fueled his instincts, pushing him back to his feet. But before he could even steady himself, the storm orchestrated its grand finale. The sky parted once again, giving way to a savage bolt, brighter and fiercer than any before.

Time seemed to warp around Ryu as the mammoth lightning bolt made its descent towards him. His hands shot upwards, reaching out in a futile attempt to ward off the impending doom. It was a primal, desperate reflex.

And then, his world fragmented into a kaleidoscope of searing white pain. The gargantuan force of the lightning bolt struck him, its deadly electrical currents ravaging through him, hijacking every muscle, every nerve. His body danced a painful jig, each spasm synced to the deadly rhythm of the lightning.

Reality seemed to splinter around him. Ryu felt his back arching, his limbs thrashing in a strange ballet. His body resonated with the raw, ruthless force tearing through him. Somewhere in the distant corners of his consciousness, he was aware of his mouth stretched open in a scream, yet no sound escaped. The storm was his stage, and he was caught in the electrifying grip of its grand performance.

Just as his senses were on the brink of being consumed by the overwhelming power of the lightning, Ryu heard something. It was a voice, booming and authoritative, yet not carried by the wind or the thunder. It seemed to resonate directly within his mind, echoing through his being, bypassing his ears.

"Awaken, my champion. Your destiny awaits."

The voice washed over him, a mighty wave riding on the electric currents still buzzing through his veins. Then, as quickly as it had struck, the white-hot agony receded and Ryu's world spiraled into darkness. His body crumpled, a lifeless puppet whose strings had been cruelly cut, sinking into the storm-soaked mud. Around him, the tempest continued its wild rampage, indifferent to the man who lay broken at its feet.

Time became a nebulous concept, as Ryu lay unconscious on the mountain's unforgiving crest. The storm had its fill of chaos and eventually moved on, leaving behind a stage scarred by its tempestuous performance. How long Ryu was lost to the world, caught in the black void of unconsciousness, he could not tell.

Slowly but surely, the storm clouds began to break apart. Like ethereal curtains being drawn back, they revealed the moon. Bathed in its cool, silvery light, the tableau of a man, lying desolate atop a remote mountain peak, painted an eerily beautiful scene.

Ryu's body lay still, looking almost ghostly under the moonlight. His chest, however, bore testament to the life still clinging within him. It rose and fell in a shallow rhythm, a tenuous lifeline amidst the wild solitude of the peak.

Whether Ryu was destined to survive or to succumb was yet to be determined. It hung in the balance, a question whispered into the wind. But one thing was clear: his journey towards his destiny had been irrevocably set into motion. It was a quest born in chaos and thunder, under the unforgiving gaze of the storm. A quest that had only just begun.