The first spear missed Tomora's head by inches and buried itself in the dirt behind him.
Then everything erupted.
The raiders surged forward as one—boots pounding, armor clashing, mouths open in war cries that tore through the forest like blades. Firelight leapt across steel and skin. The air smelled of sweat, blood, and smoke.
The villagers should have run.
They didn't.
A farmer lunged from the left, his hands wrapped around a rusted shovel. The blade rang uselessly against a raider's shield, but the old man screamed anyway, teeth bared, eyes wild. A boy no older than twelve scooped rocks from the ground and hurled them with both hands, sobbing as he threw. A woman slammed a cooking pot over a soldier's head and dropped it when he collapsed.
"Protect the boy!"
The cry rose again and again—cracked voices, breaking voices, voices that shook but didn't stop.
Tala darted between bodies, her fingers white around a kitchen knife far too small for war. Jer stepped forward beside her, shoulders squared, fists burning. Heat shimmered around her hands, the air warping as fire curled over her knuckles.
Yora vanished.
One moment she stood near the edge of the clearing, lips pressed together, eyes locked on Tomora. The next, she flickered like a dying flame and disappeared. Raiders stumbled. One cursed as his helmet was yanked sideways. Another tripped over nothing and slammed face-first into the dirt.
Tomora saw all of it.
He saw hands bleeding around tools never meant to kill. He saw bodies shaking with fear and still moving forward. He saw Jer's fire, Tala's blade, Yora's empty space carving through the enemy.
And for the first time in his life—
Someone stood in front of him.
The chains around his wrists rattled softly as his fingers curled.
The ground trembled.
A heavy step crushed the soil.
Then another.
The Raider Leader emerged from the chaos, black armor catching the firelight, helm off, face carved with scars like old fault lines in stone. He walked calmly, as if the battlefield bent away from him by instinct.
"A boy like you," he said, voice low and steady, "should never inspire courage."
He slammed his fist into the earth.
The ground answered.
The clearing tore itself apart. Dirt and stone surged upward in jagged waves. Walls burst from the soil. Spikes ripped free like fangs. Trenches split the ground open, swallowing raiders and villagers alike as screams echoed.
Earth twisted as if soft as clay.
The leader straightened slowly, dust rolling off his shoulders.
"Earth," he said. "Ancestral Vein awakened."
Tomora moved.
Lightning cracked beneath his feet as he launched forward, chains snapping free behind him. The world blurred—trees streaked past, firelight smeared into lines. He hit the leader like a thunderbolt.
Punch.
The impact boomed through the forest, air detonating around his fist. He struck again. And again. Each blow landed with the sound of breaking sky.
The leader didn't move.
Stone rose around his arm like a gauntlet and caught Tomora's fist mid-swing. Another hand burst from the ground and slammed into Tomora's side. A third struck his back.
Tomora flew.
He hit the dirt hard enough to crater it, breath exploding from his lungs. The world rang like a struck bell.
Pain stabbed through his skull.
White needles pierced behind his eyes. His vision smeared, edges darkening. Sound dulled, replaced by a high-pitched whine.
"Damn—" He tried to push up. His arms shook and failed. "My head…!"
Laughter rolled over him, heavy and amused.
The leader turned away from him.
Jer rushed in with a shout, fire roaring around her fists.
The leader backhanded her.
The impact snapped her head sideways and sent her skidding across the dirt. Flames sputtered out as she hit the ground.
Yora flickered into view mid-step, reaching for him.
He kicked her.
The blow folded her in half and hurled her aside. She gasped, coughing, tears streaking her face.
The leader turned slowly.
Tala stood frozen.
Her knife trembled in her grip. Her lips parted, breath shallow, eyes locked on the man in black armor.
"D-Dad…" Her voice cracked. "Please… stop…"
Tomora's vision sharpened in an instant.
The thunder inside his chest roared.
He pushed himself up.
Barely.
Lightning crept across his skin, crawling like living veins of light. His muscles screamed. Blood slid from his nose, his ears, dripping onto the dirt in dark drops.
"Fuck," he muttered, teeth clenched. "My head."
The storm exploded out of him.
No focus. No shape. No restraint.
Electricity tore free in wild arcs, snapping through the air like whips. His hair lifted, haloed by blinding light. Lightning wrapped around his body, forming a crackling shell of pure current.
The battlefield fell silent.
Even the earth hesitated.
Tomora stepped forward.
The leader raised his arms and the ground rose to meet him—pillars of stone slamming upward, slabs folding in from every direction. Tomora vanished in a flash, reappearing above the stone, skipping through the air on arcs of lightning. He landed hard, one knee slamming into a pillar, blood dripping from his ears.
"You're dying from your own power," the leader said, voice echoing. "Your body can't hold it."
Tomora wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Red smeared across his skin.
"Shut the hell up."
He launched himself forward again.
Earth and lightning collided.
Stone cages snapped shut around him—then vaporized in bursts of blinding light. Pillars shattered. The ground cracked open under the force of thunderous blows. Tomora drove his head forward, slamming it into the leader's face.
The impact cracked armor.
"You hit my friends."
He grabbed the leader and hurled him—once, twice—through towering columns of stone. Each collision exploded rock into dust.
Midair, Tomora felt it.
The pull.
The earth always answered the leader from below.
So he didn't touch it.
He landed on wood—splintered beams. Then metal—fallen weapons, armor. Then rock already torn free from the ground. He never stayed still. Never let the earth catch up.
Lightning surged down his legs and into the soil.
The ground spasmed.
The leader staggered.
Tomora gathered everything left inside him. The thunder in his chest screamed, tearing at his veins, his bones, his mind.
"I WAS BORN FROM LIGHTNING!"
His fist connected.
The world went white.
When the light faded, the leader lay embedded in shattered stone, unmoving.
Silence swallowed the clearing.
Tomora's body shook.
Violently.
Blood streamed from his eyes now, leaking down his cheeks. His knees buckled. He dropped to the ground, hands clawing at dirt he could barely feel.
"I… I won…"
No cheers came.
Only running footsteps.
Tala hit the ground beside him, hands shaking as she reached for him. Jer's scream tore through the trees. Yora sobbed openly, crawling toward him.
Tomora's vision dimmed.
"I'm not dying today…" he whispered.
Then everything went dark.