The storm raged above the Raijū stronghold, its fury unlike any seen in generations. Azure lightning slashed across the heavens, illuminating the jagged peaks that crowned the fortress in a ghostly glow. Thunder rolled in waves, a soundless war drum beating against the very fabric of reality. The air shimmered with unnatural energy, thick with the scent of ozone and something far older—something awakened.


    Within the great hall of the elders, the atmosphere was heavy with apprehension. Ancient torches sputtered, their flames bending as though whispering secrets to the storm outside. The chamber''s stone pillars bore inscriptions of Raijin''s will, sacred runes that had pulsed with the steady heartbeat of the storm for centuries. Now, they flickered erratically, their glow spasming like a pulse out of rhythm.


    Elder Kaien, the eldest among them, stepped forward, his weathered hand pressing against the central pillar. The moment his skin met the stone, a ripple of energy coursed through him—jagged, unfamiliar. His brows furrowed.


    "The balance is shifting," he murmured. His voice, though quiet, carried an undeniable weight. "No… someone is shifting it."


    A murmur swept through the elders. They had all felt it—a disturbance in the storm''s song, a second heartbeat reverberating through the stronghold. It was neither fully divine nor wholly abyssal, but something between.


    Elder Masaru, his sharp gaze unreadable, turned toward the southern corridor. "We must find the source," he declared. "If the storm itself is answering a new master, we cannot stand idle."


    Without hesitation, the elders stepped into the tempest-ridden night. The wind howled like a living thing, but it did not resist them—it guided them, drawing them deeper into the heart of their sacred domain. Lightning flared, illuminating their path in brief, blinding flashes. Each step forward brought them closer to a single chamber, pulsing with an energy unlike any other.


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    Ash''s chamber.


    The heavy iron doors groaned as they were pushed open, revealing a sight that stole their breath.


    Ash sat in the center of the room, his form wreathed in a fusion of azure and violet lightning. The energy did not lash out wildly as it would with an untrained conduit—it coiled, deliberate, sentient. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls, shifting between the spectral and the physical, alive with whispers that danced just beyond the realm of comprehension. His breath was steady, his eyes closed, yet the power surrounding him surged in unpredictable waves, as if testing the limits of its newfound master.


    The brazier in the corner, once fueled by the sacred flame, had darkened to a deep violet hue, flickering in sync with the storm beyond. The presence of the Oni-Wraith was unmistakable. It should have consumed him. It should have devoured him whole.


    But it did not.


    It obeyed.


    Elder Kaien narrowed his eyes, the storm''s reflection captured in their depths. "This is beyond what was foreseen," he said, his voice a whisper against the howling winds. "The storm does not merely rage—it kneels. And the abyss does not hunger—it waits."


    Masaru exhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides. "No Raijū before him has ever walked this path. A warrior who wields the storm and the abyss alike? This is dangerous."


    "Or destined," Elder Ayame countered, her voice measured but resolute. "We must decide. Do we allow him to take the Oath?"


    Silence descended upon the chamber, heavier than the storm itself. The Oath was sacred—the final rite to fully embrace Raijin''s power. To grant it to Ash was to acknowledge him as one of their own. But could they accept what he had become? Could they accept what he might become?


    Kaien''s gaze did not waver. "If we do, we may unleash something the world is not ready for. But if we do not… we may shackle a force even we cannot contain."


    The elders exchanged measured glances, the weight of their decision pressing upon them like the tempest overhead. Beyond the stone walls, the sky trembled, as if waiting.


    And outside, the thunder rumbled in anticipation of their answer.