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The storm raged on, thunder booming across the sky, lightning splitting the heavens. The night was dark, as though the very fabric of the world was being torn apart. Rain poured relentlessly, turning the earth to mud, and the wind howled like a wild beast. The small village on the outskirts, nestled beneath the shadow of a distant mountain range, seemed to be engulfed by the fury of nature. Trees bent under the weight of the storm, and rooftops groaned, their tiles threatened to be ripped away.
In the midst of this chaos, within a small, humble hut, a dim oil lamp flickered feebly. The air inside was heavy, thick with sweat and the sharp scent of fear. The woman lying on the bed, her face pale with exhaustion, gripped the worn sheets tightly. Her body trembled violently, as though it were caught in a fierce battle against the forces of fate.
Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, and her cries filled the room, mingling with the howling wind outside. She was Liu Meng, a young woman of just nineteen, once known for her delicate beauty, now contorted in pain as she brought life into the world.
"Quick... the baby... is coming!" Liu Meng's voice cracked, her words a plea of desperation.
At her side stood the village's midwife, an elderly woman named Granny Chen. Her face was a mass of wrinkles, her hands steady as they pressed against Liu Meng's abdomen, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She muttered under her breath, a soft prayer or perhaps an incantation, though her lips trembled with a hint of something darker.
A sharp, piercing cry filled the room, louder than the thunder outside. Moments later, the sound of heavy, labored breaths followed, and the child was born into the storm.
For a fleeting moment, all seemed still, the world holding its breath. Then, as if a final judgment had been passed, the storm's rage intensified, thunder crashing and rain falling harder. The baby, tiny and wrinkled, lay in Granny Chen's arms, and the old midwife gazed down at it with a look of somber acknowledgment.
She did not immediately hand the child to Liu Meng. Instead, she looked down at the infant, her eyes clouded with worry. After a long pause, she exhaled slowly, as if resigned to a fate she could not change.
"This... is the one," she muttered under her breath. "This child... will change everything."
Liu Meng, too weak to understand, looked up with exhaustion in her eyes. She gazed at the baby in the midwife's arms, a flicker of joy on her tired face. "It's my child... my son, Liu Meng's son…"
Granny Chen hesitated, then gently placed the baby into Liu Meng's weak arms. "Dreamer... this child... is cursed. He was born to be different, and that difference will bring disaster to this village."
"Cursed?" Liu Meng's voice trembled, her heart racing in disbelief. "No! You're wrong! He's my son, he can't be cursed!"
Granny Chen stepped away, moving slowly toward the window, her gaze fixed on the tempest outside. Her expression was one of deep sorrow. "Dreamer, I speak not out of my own will, but of what the fate of the village foretells."
With her words, the room seemed to grow heavier. The wind outside screamed louder, as though it, too, was mourning the child's arrival. And at that moment, something strange happened. A dark, wispy smoke began to leak from the child's tiny body, swirling and vanishing into the air.
Granny Chen froze, her face draining of color. Her eyes widened with a shock so deep it seemed to paralyze her.
"This... this child..." she whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "It's true. He is... the one."
Liu Meng, still holding the child in her arms, stared at the midwife in confusion. "What's happening? What does it mean?"
Granny Chen turned away, her voice trembling as she whispered to herself, "This is no ordinary child... he is marked by the curse of the beast. This is no blessing... this is the harbinger of doom."
As the words left her lips, the storm outside seemed to reach a crescendo. Lightning flashed through the sky in blinding arcs, and the thunder roared as if in agreement. And in that moment, from far beyond the mountains, a shadow seemed to move through the storm, swift and dark, vanishing into the night.
The baby in Liu Meng's arms stirred slightly, and for the first time, his eyes fluttered open. The light within them gleamed—unnatural, predatory, as though they belonged to something far older and darker than any child should possess.
And in that instant, the storm outside seemed to pause, holding its breath, as though the very world itself had just realized what had been unleashed.