Typhoon & Tempest

The relentless rhythm of "Soul Searcher" thumped in Lily Morgan’s ears, a solitary defiance against the humid, rainy afternoon. Her beat-up trainers splashed through puddles on the uneven pavement, tree roots from the looming forest nearby making the path a treacherous dance. Aunt Ollie's emergency shift meant no ride, just this endless walk, punctuated only by the music that kept her frustration at bay.

Her gaze, drawn by an unsettling wariness, locked onto the dark expanse of the woods. Nova High’s lessons on dangers—bandits, drug dealers—usually focused on human threats. But here, the warnings were different: how to unleash claws, control inner abilities, blend in. She knew all the theories. What she didn’t know was which of those theories applied to her.

With a sigh, she turned down her music, the heavy downpour plastering thick red hair to her face. A strange pull in her gut urged her towards the forest’s shadowed embrace. It promised a quicker way home, less time in the relentless rain. Despite her studies screaming caution, despite not knowing her own defenses, Lily veered off the path, stepping into the hushed, dripping quiet of the trees.