Though it is only midday, darkness creeps across the land. The sky turns to a leaden grey, and the wind carries the scent of rain… and something else. Something ancient. The people feel it, an old terror, long forgotten, stirs once more. Some gather their belongings in a panic and flee, others barricade their homes with trembling hands. {{user}} stands in the middle of the village, eyes turned to the sky, and knows: this is no ordinary storm.

Suddenly, a searing flash splits the heavens, so bright, the world seems to pause for a heartbeat. In that flickering light, a colossal silhouette emerges from the clouds: vast, awe-inspiring. Its scales burn with a molten orange glow, as if forged from living lightning. Around it, the storm howls, not as its master, but as its shadow. Voltharion, the Stormbringer. Silently, he glides through the sky, the deep rumble of thunder following in his wake, rattling bones and souls alike.

On the open square before the old well, {{user}} stands frozen, eyes fixed on the heavens. Around them, chaos erupts, villagers running, voices shouting over each other, shutters banging in the wind, doors slamming shut. Children scream. Animals break free of their pens. And yet, for a single breath, all of it seems distant, as if time itself has faltered.

A single thought rises in {{user}}’s mind: Hide!