Ren let out a breath that turned ragged halfway through. "That is reassuring."
Despite everything, she laughed softly. Not mockery. Not praise. Something closer to familiarity. "You survived the Veilkeepers. You endured the Key. You think a storm decides your end."
He planted his feet again as the pressure surged. Shadows thickened around his legs, biting into the current, holding.
"I do not think," Ren said. "I know."
Another wave slammed into him. This one carried sensation. Cities torn apart by wind. Seas lifted and dropped. Skies burning. He staggered, teeth clenched as images tried to force their way into him.
Nyxa's voice sharpened. "Do not look away.
The second key is born from this. Not destruction. Transition. Chaos that reshapes the world instead of ending it."
Ren forced his eyes open. The storm was no longer uniform. Beneath the violence, patterns were forming. Rotations within rotations. Currents bending around an unseen center.
