After what felt like an eternity of being held down, Kael could hear heavy footsteps approaching. The door to the interrogation room slammed open, and in walked the man who was to oversee his fate—Lieutenant General Rendall.
The man was tall, his posture straight, and his face carved in stone. His uniform, decorated with countless medals, marked his high rank. But the air around him was suffocating—powerful and commanding. Kael could feel the weight of the general’s presence, and for a moment, his heartbeat quickened.
Tyros stood aside, bowing his head respectfully as Rendall approached Kael. "So, this is the infamous Kael Darnel," Rendall said coldly, surveying him with disdain. "A boy who thinks he can get away with things. A boy who dares challenge people of true power."
Kael remained silent, his eyes narrow, his defiance still burning through the overwhelming pressure.
"You’ve been accused of some grave crimes," Rendall continued, his voice smooth but heavy with threat. "And you’ve made the mistake of thinking you can escape the consequences." He paced in front of Kael, his eyes flashing with cold menace. “If you just admit to it, maybe your suffering will be lessened. Maybe.”
Kael’s jaw clenched, but he refused to break his gaze.
Rendall stopped in front of Kael, his eyes flickering toward the restraints that held the young man in place. "I’ll make this simple for you, Darnel," he sneered. "If you don’t confess right now, I will destroy your spiritual circuits. You will never raise your abilities again. You’ll be a useless shell of a person." He leaned in close, his voice dropping low. “And you’ll regret not taking the easy way out.”
Kael stared at him, resolute. "I’m innocent," he said quietly but firmly. “You can’t scare me into admitting something I didn’t do.”
Rendall’s eyes narrowed, and with a swift motion, he extended his hand, his spiritual power flaring. He pushed his energy forcefully into Kael’s body, intending to overload his spiritual circuits. The immense pressure of the Lieutenant General’s power was enough to make Kael’s entire body tremble as his circuits strained, threatening to snap.
But Kael didn’t break.
The energy surged through him, and for a moment, it felt like his body might be torn apart. Kael gritted his teeth, trying to focus and steady himself. He could feel his mind beginning to waver as the pain intensified, but something else was happening deep within him. A flicker of energy, something different, sparked in his soul. His body responded, almost involuntarily, and before Rendall could fully realize it, Kael’s spirit erupted in a surge of power.
In an instant, Kael’s spiritual energy exploded outward in a burst of blinding light, pushing Lieutenant General Rendall back, stumbling as the force collided with his chest. Rendall’s eyes widened in shock, and for a brief moment, the room was silent. His commanding presence was momentarily shattered.
"Impossible…" Rendall muttered under his breath, still reeling from the unexpected blow. He staggered back a few paces, his hand pressed against his chest as he tried to steady himself. His eyes scanned Kael, now radiating an unfamiliar energy—his body had broken through to the Soul Alignment stage.
But Kael was unconscious, his body unable to handle the strain from the sudden surge of power. His breathing slowed, and he collapsed, limp in the restraints.
Rendall’s expression darkened, a mix of awe and irritation crossing his face. He had never expected the boy to break through in such a way, especially under the pressure. This was a dangerous development.
"We’ve underestimated him," Rendall muttered, looking at the unconscious Kael. "This boy is far more dangerous than we thought." He turned toward Tyros and the others, his voice cold. "Get him out of here. We’ll deal with him later. Make sure he doesn’t wake up too soon."
As they began to drag Kael’s unconscious form out of the room, Rendall stood silently, his mind racing. "He’s a threat," he said to himself. "A threat that needs to be eliminated before it becomes too big."
Lieutenant General Rendall’s cold eyes lingered on Kael’s unconscious body. His hand hovered over Kael’s limp form, contemplating the final blow. He could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him.
In his mind, Kael was an unpredictable variable, someone who had just risen through the ranks too quickly, too dangerously. The boy had just unlocked the Soul Alignment stage. Kael’s family background wasn’t very influential, and Rendall knew that if he killed the boy, he could easily pass it off as an accident. A failed interrogation, an unfortunate incident during a "routine procedure." No one would bat an eye.
Rendall moved closer to Kael’s limp body, his hand beginning to glow with a menacing aura.
But just as he was about to make his move, a sudden blaring siren echoed through the facility, its harsh wail rattling the air. The lights flickered as the alarm systems kicked in, and a cold, mechanical voice rang out, announcing the emergency:
“ALERT: TYPE 6 STORM APPROACHING. ALL PERSONNEL MUST IMMEDIATELY RETREAT TO THE BASEMENT LEVELS. PLEASE FOLLOW EMERGENCY PROTOCOL. ALL OPERATIONS CEASED.”
The sudden announcement startled Rendall, and for a moment, he froze, his hand still hovering over Kael. His eyes narrowed in confusion.
Type 6 Storms,
In the years since humanity had perfected its technological advancements, even the most devastating natural disasters had become little more than minor inconveniences. Modern civilization had been built to withstand the fury of the elements. But storms of this magnitude—Type 5 and above—were in a league of their own. Only the most extreme weather systems had the destructive potential to harm the reinforced, massive structures of human cities.
A Type 6 Storm was considered an event of near-apocalyptic proportions. Only a few in history had ever been recorded, and each one left a permanent mark on the environment. These storms were not just ferocious; they were the kind of forces of nature that could tear through even the most advanced of human fortifications.
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Rendall looked up at the emergency protocol screen, his face hardening.
"Type 6...?" he muttered under his breath. "This storm is on a scale we've never seen before..."
Before he could act on his next move, the alarms became deafening, the high-pitched shriek of the sirens amplifying in the metal corridors. Security personnel scrambled in every direction, their panic palpable. Evacuation orders were being issued across the entire facility. Rendall’s eyes flicked back to Kael, and for a split second, he considered his options.
With Type 6 storms approaching, it was clear that no one would be able to focus on the interrogation anymore. The storm was a priority. Rendall would have to wait.
He cursed under his breath. "I’ll deal with you later," he muttered as he turned away, gesturing for Tyros and the others to follow him. "Make sure Darnel is secured. We don’t have time for this right now."
He stormed toward the exit, his mind calculating the next course of action. But Kael’s body remained still, unconscious and unprotected, the storm raging toward them in the background.
As the team hurried to evacuate, the blaring alarms and the sense of impending danger set an uneasy atmosphere across the entire facility. And as they rushed toward the designated shelters below the city, a sense of something much larger—something even more threatening—loomed over them.
Kael’s body remained motionless, even as the winds outside began to pick up, howling violently against the walls of the fortress. The storm was coming.
The tension was building, and the atmosphere was thick with unease. Outside, the winds were starting to howl ominously, carrying the faintest scent of impending destruction. The Empire’s most powerful figures—each aware of the gravity of a Type 6 storm—were beginning to react to the unexpected shift in the city's fate.
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Dean Winslow had been pacing back and forth in his office when the alarm systems triggered, the shrill sound of the sirens sending a jolt of unease through him. He hurried outside, his usually calm demeanor replaced by something darker. He looked up at the sky, the darkening clouds swirling with unnatural speed.
"What the hell is happening?" he muttered to himself, his mind racing through every possibility. A Type 6 storm... it couldn’t be real, could it?
Just as he stepped outside, Miren caught sight of him, rushing toward the dean with an expression of concern.
“Grandpa, what’s wrong?” Miren asked her voice tight with unease.
But Dean Winslow didn’t answer her immediately. His eyes were locked on the sky, watching the terrifying clouds begin to form a violent, churning mass. The winds howled louder, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble with anticipation.
Dean’s lips were tight as he spoke, his voice barely audible. "I... don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. This storm... it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Miren looked up, feeling the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on her. "Are we sure it's really a Type 6? How is it so sudden?"
The dean’s usual calm was gone now. He felt that there was something far deeper at play here, something that wasn’t just about the storm. "No... this feels more like a warning."
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Meanwhile, in a distant corner of the Empire, a cloaked figure sat alone at a small table in a café, his black coat and wide-brimmed hat obscuring his face. His hand rested calmly on the edge of his coffee cup, though his eyes were sharp, scanning the room as the alarms blared in the background.
The guardian of the city—a heavily armored enforcer—approached him, stern and direct. “Sir, you need to follow me immediately. We have orders to escort civilians to the shelters. The Type 6 storm is approaching.”
The figure remained still for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “How is this possible?” he muttered, almost to himself. The question hung in the air, filled with disbelief and confusion.
Before the guardian could react, the figure vanished, disappearing without a trace. The guardian froze in place, eyes wide in shock, his hands reaching for his communicator. "What the...?" he whispered, unsure whether what he saw was real.
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On the other side of the world, far from the heart of the Empire, Elric—Kael’s grandfather—stood beneath the dimming sky. Even though he was thousands of kilometers away from the storm's epicenter, he felt the pulse of its energy, like a ripple in the fabric of the world itself.
Looking up at the ominous clouds, Elric’s expression hardened. His hand clenched into a fist at his side, a sense of dread gnawing at him. "Reyl?" he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling with the weight of recognition. There was something in the air—something that he hadn’t felt in years.
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The scene in the Empire Headquarters was tense. The air was thick with urgency as alarms blared throughout the city. Inside the command center, the Supreme Chancellor of the Illumira Empire, Lady Eryndra Volnaris, stood at the center of the room, surrounded by high-ranking officials. She was an imposing woman with short, silver hair that shimmered like moonlight, piercing golden eyes that seemed to see through the chaos, and a regal presence that commanded authority. She wore a sleek black and gold uniform, decorated with the insignia of her office: a double-headed eagle.
Before her, a holographic image of the ruler of the Illumira Empire, Emperor Iveris Kallum, flickered to life. His appearance was a mixture of awe-inspiring and unsettling — tall, with long white hair flowing like silver threads, his face was slightly veiled in shadow, accentuating his sharp, calculating features. His deep red eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity, hinting at the otherworldly power he wielded. His regal robes were embroidered with dark, swirling patterns that resembled the cosmos itself.
Emperor Iveris’s voice echoed in the room, low and commanding. "This cannot be natural... We’ve never seen a storm of this magnitude, and certainly not one of this timing. Something is off, Eryndra."
Eryndra nodded solemnly. "Indeed, Your Majesty. This storm — a Type 6 — it shouldn't even be possible. Even the most powerful storms of the past have always given us warning signs, but this one... it's as though the fabric of reality itself is being torn apart." Her tone was sharp, and her expression remained stoic, though the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her.
"Then what do you propose, Chancellor?" Emperor Iveris’s image leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering.
Eryndra clenched her fists. "This event, Your Majesty, cannot be dismissed as a mere accident. It’s far too coordinated. I suspect someone is responsible for manipulating the storm’s origin." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Perhaps even someone with the power to control the very elements. We can no longer afford to wait and see."
She turned toward a pair of Empire Guards standing in the back of the room. Both were tall, their armor sleek and shining with a faint glow, an indication of their power. The men were both at the Ascendant Union stage, their abilities honed to perfection. Their mere presence radiated authority.
"General Doren, Captain Rhyne," Eryndra called, "I need you both to head to Illumira's capital immediately. Investigate this phenomenon and make sure we have all the information we need. We cannot risk this being the opening salvo of an attack."
The two guards saluted in perfect unison. General Doren, with short black hair and a scar running across his cheek, spoke first. "Understood, Supreme Chancellor. We will leave at once."
Rhyne, the younger of the two with fiery red hair and sharp blue eyes, nodded. "We’ll get to the bottom of this, no matter what."
Eryndra turned back to the Emperor’s hologram, a look of determination in her eyes. "We can’t afford to sit idly by. The situation is rapidly evolving."
Emperor Iveris’s image flickered slightly, as though his connection to the room was strained. "I trust you will handle this, Eryndra. Should you need anything else, let me know."
As the holographic image of the Emperor began to fade, Eryndra stood in thought for a moment before giving the order. "Get to Illumira’s capital immediately. I will oversee the situation here."
“This is no natural phenomenon,” She said, voice low, yet heavy with authority. “It’s been triggered by something else. We have to find out who or what is behind this.”
"something terrifying is about to descend, soon..."