Eternal Storm: Volume 1 – The Awakening

Aryan's breath was uneven as he stood before the crater in the ruins, the very spot where the asteroid had fallen. The ground was charred, the stone cracked from the impact. His mind swirled with confusion.

What the hell happened last night?

His fingers instinctively brushed against the necklace still clinging to his neck, its surface unnaturally smooth, its black hue absorbing the dim evening light. He had spent the entire school day pretending it wasn't there, but now, in the silence of the ruins, he couldn't ignore it any longer.

This thing… came from the asteroid. But why is it on me?

The wind howled through the ruins, rustling the trees in the distance. Aryan crouched near the crater, his fingers tracing the scorched ground. His mind raced with possibilities—was this some kind of hallucination? A dream? But the necklace was real. Too real.

A sudden snap of a twig behind him made him spin around. His heart pounded against his ribs. His eyes darted through the dense trees, but there was nothing there.

Probably an animal, he thought, but the unease remained.

The air around him felt… different. The usual sounds of the forest—the distant hoots of owls, the rustling leaves, the occasional chirping of crickets—had vanished. A strange silence settled over the ruins, pressing down on him like an invisible weight.

Then, he heard it.

A whisper.

Faint. Distant. Like the echo of a forgotten voice carried by the wind.

"Aryan..."

His breath caught in his throat. He spun around again, scanning the ruins, his hands clenched into fists.

"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

No answer. Only silence.

But the whisper had been real. He was sure of it.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to stay calm. He crouched back down and examined the crater more closely. The earth was scorched black, the stone fractured like glass. He reached out, hesitantly running his fingers along the edge of the impact site. It was still warm.

And then, as if responding to his touch, a faint hum vibrated through the air.

Aryan yanked his hand back, stumbling a few steps away. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse—just for a second—before going still again. His breathing was ragged, his skin cold despite the warmth of the night.

What is happening?

He looked down at the necklace, its black surface reflecting none of the moonlight. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine. This thing was not normal.

Suddenly, pain shot through his skull. A sharp, piercing sensation, as if something was clawing its way into his mind. He clutched his head, his vision blurring. His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto his knees, gasping.

Flashes of something—images, memories that weren't his—flooded his mind.

A sky filled with falling stars.

A battlefield drenched in shadows.

A city consumed by darkness.

And then—eyes. Silver and unblinking. Watching. Waiting.

The pain intensified, and Aryan let out a strangled gasp. His pulse roared in his ears, and just as suddenly as it had begun, the pain vanished.

He collapsed onto his hands, panting. The ruins spun around him. His body trembled.

What the hell was that?!

As his breathing steadied, he became aware of something new. A presence. It wasn't human. It wasn't even something he could describe. It was just… there. A weight pressing against his thoughts, lingering at the edges of his consciousness.

And then, the whisper returned. Stronger. Clearer.

"Aryan… You are not ready."

He bolted upright, his heart hammering.

"Who are you?!" he shouted, but the voice didn't answer.

Instead, the necklace grew warm against his skin. Aryan looked down, and for the first time, he saw it—faint patterns, glowing along the black surface of the pendant. Strange symbols, shifting as if alive.

His mind screamed at him to run, to get away from this cursed place. But his body stayed rooted to the spot, drawn to the unknown force tied to him.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The ruins remained still, the world quiet. And then, the wind howled once more, and just like that, the presence was gone.

The weight lifted. The necklace cooled. The ruins became just ruins again.

Aryan staggered back, his breaths uneven. His hands trembled. He didn't know what had just happened, but one thing was clear—

This was only the beginning.

Then, suddenly, a jolt of fear shot through him. He needed to get out of there. He didn't know why, but every instinct screamed at him to run.

So, he did.

He sprinted through the dark forest, the wind rushing past his ears. But something was different. As he ran, his surroundings were unusually sharp. The distant rustle of leaves, the scuttling of small creatures in the underbrush—he could hear it all. Even the faint murmur of people talking in their homes, far from where he was.

He could hear everything.

The realization sent a chill down his spine, but he didn't stop running. His feet barely made a sound against the dirt path as he moved with a speed that felt unnatural. His body wasn't just running—it was flowing, like he had done this a thousand times before.

By the time he reached home, he was gasping for air, his heart pounding.

Without stopping, he rushed inside, straight to his room, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye—he looked different. His eyes, wide with shock, had a strange sharpness to them.

But there was no time to focus on that now. The necklace. He had to get rid of it.

He grabbed at it, trying to pull it off with sheer force. It didn't budge.

He ran to his desk, grabbed a pair of scissors, and tried to wedge the blades beneath the chain—nothing. He tried pliers, a screwdriver, even a knife. The chain didn't even have a clasp. It was fused together like a single piece of metal.

His breathing was heavy, frustration boiling inside him.

"Why won't this damn thing come off?!" he growled, slamming his fist against the desk.

Hours passed as he tried everything—soaking it in water, heating it, freezing it. Nothing worked. The necklace refused to move.

Finally, exhausted and defeated, Aryan collapsed onto his bed. His mind raced with questions.

"Why me? What is this thing? Why is it on me?"

The whispers from the ruins echoed in his head. "You are not ready."

Ready for what?

As he lay there, sleep slowly took over. But his dreams were not peaceful.

In the darkness of his mind, he saw glimpses of a battle. Figures clashed, their bodies moving like shadows, weapons clashing in the air. The battlefield was drenched in an eerie glow, the sky swirling with unnatural energy.

And then, he saw him.

A warrior, standing in the middle of the battlefield, a necklace identical to Aryan's gleaming against his chest. His face was obscured, but his presence was undeniable.

Aryan watched, frozen, as the warrior raised his hand—and an army of thousands followed his command.

Then, the vision shattered.

Aryan woke up with a sharp gasp, drenched in sweat. The morning sun was already peeking through the curtains.

His alarm buzzed. It was time for school.

But he knew one thing for sure.

Nothing was the same anymore.

END OF CHAPTER 5