"Wind Art. Halo's Spiral."
Simon held the hand sign before his chest.
Below him, dust moved around a fallen helmet.
It completed one slow circle. Then another.
A demon crawling beneath a cart stopped when the dust brushed his face. He watched a loose ribbon rise from the wet road and begin turning without falling.
The blood rain continued beyond it. So did the war of the dead.
But this was different.
The cart creaked.
"Wait..."
Its wheels rolled sideways.
Simon opened his eyes. Demonic energy passed through his hands and entered the gathering air.
He had built this technique himself.
His previous life had taught him what a storm could do to a fortified city. His Wind affinity let him feel the currents well enough to shape one, while his control supplied the precision needed to keep it together.
He did not simply command the air to spin.
