The night sky churned with restless clouds, the wind howling through the ruins like a chorus of wailing spirits. The ground trembled under the weight of the battle, cracked and scorched from the sheer force of the combatants.
Kol stood at the center of it all, his breath heavy, his body battered—but his eyes still burned with defiance. Across from him, three towering figures loomed in the darkness, their presence suffocating.
His brothers had come for him.
Dain—the eldest—was a mountain of muscle, his presence alone enough to make the air thick with dread. His fists were like boulders, each strike capable of turning a man to pulp.
Orin, one of the twins, was a phantom—flickering in and out of sight like a wraith. His teleportation made him nearly untouchable, his daggers glinting in the darkness.
Valen, the other twin, wielded infernal chains wreathed in dark fire. They writhed and snapped like living serpents, ready to ensnare their prey and rip him apart.
They did not speak. There was nothing left to say.
Then, they attacked.
---
Dain moved first, the ground shattering beneath his charge. His massive fist swung toward Kol's ribs like a battering ram. Kol barely twisted in time, the wind from the blow tearing his coat apart as he dodged. Before he could counter, Orin appeared behind him, daggers gleaming in the moonlight.
Kol felt the cold kiss of steel against his back as Orin's blades bit into him. Pain flared, but Kol didn't falter. He spun, his hand crackling with raw power, but Orin vanished before the attack could land.
A sharp, metallic snap rang through the air. Valen's chains wrapped around Kol's arm, pulling him off balance. In the next instant, Dain's knee smashed into his ribs, launching him backward.
Kol hit the ground hard, spitting blood. The impact left a crater where he landed, dust and debris clouding the battlefield.
But he pushed himself up, his hands trembling, his breath ragged.
They were strong. Together, they were as strong as him.
For the first time in years, Kol felt something dangerous creeping into his heart—uncertainty.
---
Dain cracked his knuckles, his voice like rolling thunder. "You're not our brother anymore."
Orin's expression was unreadable, but his grip on his daggers tightened. "You chose power over family."
Valen sneered, the flames on his chains burning hotter. "And now, we'll end what you started."
Kol wiped the blood from his lips, his teeth flashing in a bloody grin. "You think you can kill me?" His voice was low, rough. "Then come and try."
His aura surged—a dark, suffocating force that crackled with barely contained violence. The more he fought, the more his power stirred. The pain in his wounds faded, replaced by a sensation both foreign and intoxicating.
The storm inside him was awakening.
---
Orin struck first, appearing at Kol's side in the blink of an eye. Kol caught the dagger mid-swing. The force of the block sent a shockwave through the air, but before Kol could retaliate, Valen's chains wrapped around his throat.
Kol roared, raw energy exploding from his body. The chains shattered.
Dain was already moving, his colossal fist hurtling toward Kol's skull. Kol caught it.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then the ground beneath them collapsed.
Kol's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Dain's massive hand. Black lightning crackled up his arm.
Dain's eyes widened. "What—?"
A thunderclap split the sky as a bolt of black lightning erupted from Kol's hand, sending Dain flying.
Orin and Valen froze.
Kol looked down at his own hands, watching as the crackling black electricity coiled around his fingers like living serpents. His vision sharpened, his body humming with new energy.
The storm had arrived.
And Kol was at its center.