The wind screamed.
Sayos stumbled forward, hands shielding his face as the storm howled with a voice that wasn't quite human. Dust and leaves tore through the air like blades. It wasn't natural wind. It had weight. Purpose.
"Where am I?!" he yelled.
No answer. Only thunder.
Then—footsteps.
He turned—and froze.
A boy stood in the storm. Blond hair, green scarf. A younger version of him.
But something was off.
The boy's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"You don't belong here," the boy said.
Sayos narrowed his eyes. "What are you? Another illusion? Some weird test?"
The boy circled him slowly. "No. I'm you. The part that remembers everything you buried."
Sayos clenched his fists. "Then come at me, memory boy."
"Gladly."
Without warning, the wind exploded. Sayos was thrown back, tumbling through the air. The younger version moved like a ghost, faster than he ever remembered being—each movement wrapped in sharpened gusts.
Sayos barely had time to counter with a Wind Slash. It hit—barely slowing the boy.
"You think you're strong now? Just because you've got a crystal?" the shadow mocked. "You still wake up at night thinking of him."
Sayos froze.
"Don't you dare—"
"Your father. The one who never said 'I'm proud of you'. The one who left."
Sayos roared. "SHUT UP!"
He unleashed a cyclone—raw, chaotic. The wind howled back at him.
His younger self staggered, laughing bitterly. "You fight everyone. But never what matters."
Sayos lowered his hands.
Tears mixed with the wind.
"I hated him," he whispered. "But I also wanted him to come back. Just once. Just to say I did good."
The shadow stared at him.
Then—it smiled, this time gently.
And faded.
The wind calmed. A platform formed beneath his feet. In its center—a second green crystal.
He walked toward it.
And for the first time—
He didn't feel afraid of the storm.