Thunder cracked above the scorched temple roof. The sky had turned dark, clouds swirling unnaturally fast. The group stood at the temple's exit, staring up at the coming storm.
"That's not normal weather," Rika said, her eyes narrowing.
Sayos stepped forward, wind curling around his fingers instinctively. "No. That's a message."
"A message?" Mizu asked.
Sayos nodded. "Lightning only comes like this when someone challenges it. And I think—" He looked up. "—it's my turn."
The temple behind them began to collapse, stone crumbling as if its duty was fulfilled. Lucy growled again, looking over her shoulder. The elemental trial was done—but something else was just beginning.
A path of scorched earth stretched out before them, flanked by jagged cliffs and dry trees blackened by fire. And in the center of it all—a single platform of stone, suspended between two cliffs by crackling currents of lightning.
Sayos stepped forward first. "I know this place."
Mizu raised a brow. "You've been here before?"
Sayos nodded. "In my dreams. Since I was a kid."
The others hesitated, but Sayos walked forward without fear. The storm didn't threaten him—it welcomed him. As he stepped onto the lightning platform, the bolts arced around him like a crown.
The rest of the group watched from the edge.
Suddenly, the platform rose into the air, spinning slowly.
From the storm clouds above, a figure emerged—cloaked in white and gold, eyes glowing with electric fire. His presence made the air hum. Every hair on Sayos' arms stood up.
"Who are you?" Sayos asked, gripping his wind-scythe tightly.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, he raised a hand—and from it, a pure bolt of lightning crashed down toward Sayos.
Sayos dodged just in time, flipping backward, the heat of the strike singing his hair. He didn't hesitate—his wind surged around him like a cyclone. With a cry, he launched a razor-sharp gust toward the figure.
The wind hit.
But passed right through.
A mirage.
Behind him—real lightning crackled.
Sayos turned just in time to catch a heavy blow to the chest. He was sent flying across the platform, landing hard.
"You are fast," the figure finally spoke. "But fast is not enough."
Sayos groaned and got up slowly. "I've had enough of riddles. If this is a trial, then let's do it right."
Lightning danced along his scythe. Wind and storm began to merge, twisting into a spiral around him. The figure raised an eyebrow—then smiled.
"Good. Now show me."
The battle exploded.
Every strike was blinding. Wind slashed the air. Thunder roared like a beast unleashed. Sayos was pushed to his limits—forced to rely not just on speed, but on instinct. The storm knew his mind—it anticipated him. Every hesitation was punished with pain.
But something changed.
Sayos remembered his past—his father's words: "The storm doesn't listen to liars. It hears your truth."
With a breath, Sayos stopped fighting.
He stood still.
The figure hesitated. "Giving up?"
"No," Sayos said calmly. "I'm done pretending I'm not afraid."
The wind slowed.
The lightning paused.
Sayos closed his eyes. "I always wanted to be strong enough to protect someone… but I never believed I was. I hid behind jokes. Behind speed. But the truth is—I'm scared."
And in that moment—
Lightning didn't strike.
It bowed.
The storm calmed.
The figure stepped forward and placed a hand on Sayos' shoulder. "You've spoken your truth. And now... you are ready."
A bolt of pure, silver energy flowed into Sayos' scythe, and the clouds parted above him.
Sayos had passed.
As he stepped back to the group, the stone platform lowered gently.
Rika smirked. "So... no big speech?"
Sayos smiled. "I'll save it for the next storm