Smoke drifted through the shattered village square, rising in thin curls from the scorched earth where Billionzaruto's flames had raged only moments before. The night was quiet again—too quiet. Not even the cicadas dared to sing.
Billionzaruto stood in the center, chest heaving, eyes dimming as the inferno slowly faded from them. The warmth drained from his vision, replaced by a cold ache that burrowed deep into his skull.
He staggered.
Lightning flickered weakly around his fingertips, like his powers were whispering warnings he didn't yet understand.
"Easy… breathe," he muttered to himself, forcing his shaking hands to steady.
The ground around him was carved with burn marks—straight lines where his Inferno Gaze had cut through stone like a blade. Bodies of the masked assassins lay unconscious, scorched, or stunned by lightning blasts.
But amid the silence… a slow clap echoed.
Clap…
Clap…
Clap.
Billionzaruto spun, electricity snapping alive around his arms.
From the shadows beneath a broken tower, a tall figure stepped into the moonlight. His cloak fluttered like torn smoke, patterned with dark storm symbols. His face was hidden by a mask shaped like a cracked thundercloud.
"You fight well, boy," the masked man said, voice cold and steady. "Truly… the rumors did not lie."
Billionzaruto's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The man tilted his head slightly. "A messenger of the Shadow Tempest."
Billionzaruto's heart skipped. He had heard that name whispered in fear by travelers, spoken as if summoning a curse. But no one ever explained who—or what—they really were.
"What do you want with me?" he demanded, fists sparking with lightning.
The masked man didn't flinch. "We want nothing yet. Tonight was merely a test. A demonstration of what you are capable of… and how unstable you still remain."
Billionzaruto stepped forward. "Your assassins attacked my village. That wasn't a test."
"It was necessary," the man replied calmly. "Power like yours must be measured. And now we know."
He raised a gloved hand and pointed directly at Billionzaruto.
"You are the one born with Stormspeed, Lightning Wrath, and Inferno Gaze. A forbidden trinity hidden for generations. Your existence shatters balance."
Billionzaruto's jaw tightened. "I didn't choose to have these powers."
"And yet you have them," the man replied. "Which means the world will soon choose for you."
Lightning shot across Billionzaruto's arms as rage flared through him. "If you think I'm afraid of you—"
"We are not here to make you afraid," the masked man interrupted softly. "We are here to warn you."
He lifted his mask slightly—not enough for Billionzaruto to see his face, but enough to reveal a single glowing eye swirling with storm energy.
A chill ran through Billionzaruto.
That eye... it felt ancient. Heavy. Dangerous.
"Your awakening tonight," the man continued, "has already been sensed across nations. Warriors, clans, mercenaries—everyone will be searching for you. Some to recruit you… others to kill you before your power matures."
Billionzaruto held his ground, though his pulse ran like thunder.
"So what does the Shadow Tempest want?" he asked.
The man's glowing eye narrowed.
"To see what choice you make when the world starts burning."
Before Billionzaruto could reply, the masked figure dissolved into swirling black mist, vanishing into the air like a fading storm.
Billionzaruto clenched his fists, electricity crackling faintly.
The world was changing.
And whether he liked it or not…
It was because of him.
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