The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
The Storm Hero
The skies behind Bluekeep Fortress churned and roiled, a vortex of dark clouds shot through with veins of molten gold. The storm was small but intense, a driving mass of thunderheads that speared directly toward the city. Lightning danced across the sky, each strike a brilliant explosion of light that illuminated monstrous silhouettes hidden in the clouds. The thunder that followed was a deep, guttural growl, shaking the city to its core.
"Is that what I think it is?" Korra muttered to herself.
I shook my head, pursing my lips as I analyzed the incoming storm. This was as much an ordinary storm as the Anomaly's blizzard, which still buffeted the city from the portal high above. Mana laced within every electric eruption, fueling the light show and bringing the clouds ever nearer.
"Lady Xiviyah, what are your orders?" Bethiv asked, looking up at the storm, worry apparent in his gaze.