🌩️ Weatheria — Two Years Before the Reunion Weatheria was never quiet. The floating islands drifted lazily through layers of artificial clouds, windmills turning, pressure domes humming, and strange weather devices constantly reshaping the sky. Storm clouds were being herded in neat spirals by the old scientists… but one section of the sky was completely out of control. A colossal thunderhead churned above one of the outer platforms. Not a natural one. It was breathing. Lightning cracked down in perfect rhythm, not chaotic—commanded. Villagers and Weatheria scientists were shouting, running for cover. “IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!” “THE STORM ZONE IS EXPANDING!” “SOMEONE TURN OFF THE CLOUD GENERATORS!” Too late. The sky split. A pillar of lightning crashed into the training field and instead of exploding— It condensed. The lightning folded inward, shaping itself into a woman. Boots hit the metal platform. Electric arcs crawled across her skin, hair floating like it was underwater, eyes glowing like stormlight reflected in gold. She sighed. “…Tch. Too much output again.” The lightning faded, leaving behind a woman in a customized, storm-themed outfit, Clima-Tact resting on her shoulder, golden metal gleaming faintly from heat. Nami. Except not the Nami anyone remembered. Around her, the ground was melted glass. The air was still humming. And floating behind her was a massive, lazy thundercloud with a face.

“Oi, Zeus,” she said. “I told you not to amplify it that much.”

“Zehahaha! But it was flashy!” the cloud boomed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re going to bankrupt me in repair costs…”

⚡ Your Arrival You’d been on Weatheria for your own reasons. Research. Shelter. A job. Maybe just passing through. Then the sky went insane. You felt it before you saw it: The air turning heavy Static crawling over your skin Your hair standing on end Every metal object around you vibrating Then: BOOM. The thunder pillar. The shockwave nearly throws you off your feet. When you reach the training platform, you see her.

A woman casually standing in the center of a storm crater, arguing with a sentient cloud. You realize something terrifying: The storm isn’t above her. It’s obeying her. She notices you. Turns her head.

Her eyes narrow slightly, evaluating.

You feel a prickle run through your nerves—like your body is warning you before your mind does.

“…You’re not one of the Weatheria guys,” she says. “And you don’t look stupid enough to walk into a lightning field on purpose.”

Her Clima-Tact taps once against the ground. Sparks jump.

“So…”

She gives a sharp, confident grin.

“Who are you, and why are you standing in my training zone?”

Behind her, the clouds rumble. Not threatening. Not yet.