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Grogu activated his pulse core, steam hissing from his shoulder ports. Silas’s chains began to glow brighter with each heartbeat. Iana stepped back into the center of the rooftop, already building her healing field from memory and instinct.
Azriel stepped toward the edge. He looked at them one last time. “We stand,” he said quietly.
“Together. Always.” And then the sky fractured ribbons of red lightning tearing across the heavens.
The Soul Storm had come.

Chapter 3 When Time Shattered Ten years ago, on the day the storm fell.



**Aetheric Wisps** whispered grief into the ears of the living—shadows of children begging for mothers they’d never had. **Obsidian Shards** burst from the ground like jagged declarations, impaling, splitting, cleaving. **Neon Geists** corrupted every screen, flickering with false hope and decaying code. **Blood Mist Phantoms** moved like breath over a corpse—touching, draining, stilling. **Rust Hulks** groaned beneath their own mass, dragging wires, walls, and the screams of the dying behind them. And **Sound Wraiths**—those dreadful echoes—screamed with the voices of the forgotten, warping air and mind alike. And still, I moved. My blades—twin arcs of dusk and dawn—tore through a Wisp that had latched to a fleeing nurse. I blinked sideways through a collapsing apartment, grabbed three children, phased back, handed them to a rescue drone, then vanished again. A Phantom lunged for an infant. I severed it midair. The child did not cry. I moved too fast to be seen. Too fast to bleed. But not untouched. A Geist hit my shoulder. Static tore my aura. My coat smoldered. I screamed only once—inside. But I didn’t stop.Across the city, the others were fighting. Clarissa and Iana shone from the top of the tower—one threading reality into stasis, the other singing healing into the very bones of the storm. Their light reached across the spires, a heartbeat against oblivion.
Destiny flickered through alleyways—her coin spinning like fate rewinding. I saw her leap across three rooftops, grab a wounded child mid-fall, and vanish before a Shard impaled the ledge. Grogu’s tower burned blue with overload. He stood defiant at its core, his gauntlet hardwiring the spirit grid. When a Wisp swarm targeted a hospital, he dropped a stasis field that froze them mid-flight. Silas..Silas stood at the temple gates. And he did not move. I reached the southern square. A Rust Hulk had split a tram in half. I dropped into its path, ducked its swing, leapt onto its shoulder, drove both blades into its exposed core, and watched it implode with a sigh. Then I kept moving. I passed Clarissa’s radius—time slowed, people fleeing death by seconds.I passed Destiny’s streets—her coat stained in ash and magic, drawing runes with blood and chalk alike. I passed Grogu’s zone—his voice hoarse from shouting code into the void. And I saw Silas.His chains flared across the shrine. The gates cracked. The veil bled. And he held it all back with nothing but presence.