The room is nothing -an emptiness that stretches further than my mind can reach.Walls? None.Floor? A blur beneath my feet.Air? Thick, like it's trying to swallow me whole.
I step inside, and the door closes behind me.The click of the latch is louder than thunder.I try to move, but the ground ripples like water.My reflection shimmers in the surface,distorted - a warning I can't read.
Then I hear it -the first drum of the hailestorm.It's not outside.It's around me,above me,inside me.
The voice returns, low and patient:"You brought yourself here. Now face it."
I want to scream,but sound dies before it leaves my lips.The storm lashes around me,icy shards of silence slicing the air,tearing at memories I didn't know were fragile.
Shapes begin to emerge,fractured and jagged,like broken glass pressed against the edges of my vision.Faces I know, faces I fear,faces I once loved -all twisting together,spinning me faster into the void.
Flame appears first,her presence a spark of light in the frozen darkness.She doesn't move,yet the storm bends around her,like water flowing past a stone.Her eyes lock on mine,calm and unyielding,cutting through the chaos of the hailestorm.
"You are stronger than you know," she whispers,her voice steady against the screaming cold."But strength isn't enough here. Not yet."
I stumble.The storm laughs - or maybe I imagine it.I can't tell the difference.Ice shards slam into me,biting my skin, burning my lungs,forcing me to keep moving even when I want to collapse.
I reach out, desperate for something to hold,but my hands meet only air.Each step forward is a struggle,my legs sinking into a haze that feels like walkingthrough water made of shattered mirrors.
The walls of the storm close in,pressing whispers into my ears:You are not enough.You can't escape.You brought this upon yourself.
I close my eyes.I try to shut it out.But the visions don't stop.Cities crumbling in silence,friends disappearing like smoke in wind,my own failures stretching wider than the horizon.
And then I see her - Flame - again,standing amidst the chaos, untouched,her gaze pulling me back from the edge.She reaches for me, though I can't tell if it's real or a fragment of hope,her words steady, unyielding:"The storm isn't just out there.It's in you.And you must face it, not run."
The hailestorm strikes harder.I am lifted, tossed, torn.Pain, fear, and memory collide into a single, endless wave,until I can't tell where I endand where the storm begins.
And yet, somehow, I keep moving forward.Somehow, I don't fall.Each step forward is a fight against the pull of the storm,against every doubt and fearthat screams I am not enough.
I feel the storm whispering again,closer this time,inside my head, inside my chest:"You are the silence before the hailestorm…"
And I understand:this storm has been waiting for me,but not to destroy me.It waits to see if I will break,or if I will rise.
I open my eyes.The hailestorm rages around me,but I step into it anyway.