"Huh… that same dream again. Who is that man?"
Daniel sat up, chest heaving, sweat slick on his skin. The echoes of thunder still rolled faintly in his ears — deep, endless, alive. Dawn spilled through the cracks of his small window, bathing the wooden floor in pale gold. For a long moment he just stared at his trembling hands, heart pounding as though he'd run for miles.
He could still feel it — the heat, the vibration of a thousand storms, the image of that man cloaked in living lightning.
Every night, it was the same.
Every night, the dream left him shaken.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe I should stop eating late-night stew."
But deep down, Daniel knew it wasn't just a dream.
When he blinked, the world blurred. The scent of morning bread vanished — replaced by the metallic tang of rain and smoke. The floor dissolved beneath his feet.
---
The cosmos burned before him.
Stars shattered like glass. Titans of light and shadow clashed in the void, their roars creating worlds and breaking them. At the center stood him — the man Daniel always saw.
Lightning wreathed his body, each spark a sun in miniature. His presence shook the fabric of reality.
Daniel hovered on nothingness, unable to move, unable to breathe.
The man's voice thundered across creation.
> "Enough! Must the children of creation always destroy what they were meant to protect?"
Other Primordials appeared — beings of Flame, Frost, Darkness, and Time. Their combined power made galaxies tremble.
"You've gone too far, Arkarion!" the Primordial of Flame cried. "The lightning consumes everything!"
"It does not consume," Arkarion answered, eyes blazing like storms contained in flesh. "It creates! Lightning is the pulse of life itself — the first spark that gave birth to all things!"
Their powers collided — fire against lightning, darkness against light — and the heavens screamed.
Worlds were born and broken in each strike.
And as Daniel watched, something in the storm turned toward him.
A whisper filled his mind — soft, ancient, terrible.
> "You… carry my spark."
Pain seared through him. The light grew unbearable. The battle blurred, collapsing into pure brightness as Arkarion's roar tore through the void.
> "You cannot bind what was never born!"
Then — silence.
---
Daniel jolted awake, gasping. The dream shattered like glass. He was back in his room, sunlight spilling through the window.
For a heartbeat, arcs of faint light danced between his fingers — and vanished.
He stared at his hand, half in awe, half in fear. "What was that…?"
A knock came at the door.
"Daniel! You'll be late for the Awakening!" called Rio, his closest friend.
Daniel blinked, forcing a breath. "Yeah, I'm coming!"
He stood, brushed the sweat from his brow, and looked once more at his palm — empty, ordinary.
Almost.
As he stepped outside, the wind shifted. In that whisper of air, he thought he heard it again:
> "The storm never dies… it only sleeps."