Location: Above the Atlantic – Skyship Tempest Dawn
Wind shrieked across the reinforced hull as the Tempest Dawn cut through jetstreams unnatural and wild. The skies themselves shifted to accommodate Isaiah.
He stood on the deck, arms spread, letting the storm roll over his skin.
No longer a man playing at power, he was the storm now—an extension of the mythic cycle he had only glimpsed before.
Behind him, Ayar manned the ship's helm, his clawed hand resting casually on the wheel. Suri sat in meditation, runes around her glowing as she communed with leyline patterns scattered by Velkyr's resurgence.
Below them: clouds like shattered glass, torn apart by forces unseen.
Above them: the stars seemed to pulse. As if watching.
---
Internal Monologue – Isaiah
> "My blood hums.
The storm isn't just mine—it's hungry. It wants release.
But I can't let it run free. Not until I see her.
Velkyr.
The Queen.
I have to know... is she savior or tyrant?
Because the world doesn't need a god.
It needs a future."
---
Flashback: Suri's Warning
Before boarding the skyship, Suri had taken Isaiah aside beneath the emerald canopy of the Brazilian Highlands.
Her voice had been soft. Grave.
> "Velkyr isn't just power, Isaiah. She's myth distilled through pain.
She was betrayed by gods, revered as divine, feared as apocalypse.
She's not rational. She's righteous.
And people who think they're righteous are the ones who burn everything to save it."
Isaiah had nodded, silently.
Now, as clouds spiraled in patterns unnatural, he wondered: Could he stop her? Or worse—would he want to?
---
Location: Arctic Circle – The Aetheric Maw
While Velkyr perched upon her frozen throne, not far beneath her—beneath the frost, beneath the vaults, beneath even the bones of the Earth—the Maw stirred.
It had no shape. No true name. Only hunger.
And now, it knew of Isaiah.
Stormblood.
Stormborn.
A flare in the tapestry.
The Maw reached through forgotten wells, whispering to those who'd cracked but not yet broken.
It found one.
---
Flashpoint: Paris – Mythborne Awakening
In a locked hospital ward, a girl named Clara whispered ancient phrases in her sleep. Ever since the Leviathan rose, her dreams had twisted.
Now she woke, screaming.
Glass exploded. Machines burst into flame.
Doctors ran, only to find the girl standing in the ruins, hair floating in static air.
"I dreamed of feathers and flame," she said softly. "I dreamed... of wings."
The Maw laughed through her mouth.
---
Back on the Skyship
Suri snapped from her trance, eyes wide.
"We're not alone," she said.
Isaiah turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
She gritted her teeth. "Velkyr's not the only one awake now. The Maw is touching others. It's spreading. Like rot."
Ayar growled low in his throat. "Then we are behind schedule."
Isaiah stepped toward the ship's prow, his eyes flashing.
"Push the ship faster. Rip the sky if you have to. We find her tonight."
---
Montage: The World's Reaction
In Tokyo: neon lights flickered as fox spirits walked among alleyways, unchallenged.
In Cairo: desert winds whispered secrets into the ears of forgotten priests.
In Los Angeles: influencers with divine lineage began manifesting inexplicable charisma—some driving millions into frenzies.
In Lagos: drumbeats summoned something deep from the ground—earthbound and primal.
The world was shifting.
And at the center of that storm...
Was Isaiah.
---
Arrival – The Glacier Throne
Night fell fast in the Arctic.
The Tempest Dawn sliced through auroras like a spear. Its descent rattled the clouds, and steam hissed as the hull cut through fog over the frozen cliffs of the Norilsk perimeter.
She was waiting.
Velkyr stood atop the shattered station ruins, wings spread across the skyline, glowing faintly violet in the starlight.
Not armed.
Not hostile.
Not afraid.
Isaiah stepped off the skyship and landed lightly on the ice.
Their eyes met.
Hers burned with ten thousand years.
His sparked with potential unrealized.
A wind brushed between them.
No one spoke.
Until she did.
"You carry the storm," Velkyr said.
Isaiah nodded. "And you carry the sky."
She tilted her head. "Then why do you look like a man, not a force?"
Isaiah took a step forward. "Because the world doesn't need another god. It needs someone who remembers being human."
She paused. Then smiled.
Faintly.
A testing smile.
"We shall see," she whispered.