The battlefield lay in ruins. Smoke coiled into the darkened sky, carrying the scent of scorched earth and blood. The towering beast that had emerged from the inferno now stood still, its golden eyes locked onto Ryuji.
A slow, heavy silence fell over the land. The others watched cautiously, waiting for what would happen next.
Then, the beast spoke.
"You… are the last of your kind."
Ryuji's breath caught in his throat. The voice wasn't just a sound—it resonated within his bones, a deep and ancient force pulling at something buried inside him. His mind wavered, vision flickering between reality and something else.
Another world. Another time.
A blinding storm. A battlefield. A warrior clad in black wielding a sword of wind, standing at the heart of chaos.
The image burned into his mind before shattering into darkness.
Then, pain. A sharp, stabbing pain in his head.
Ryuji staggered back, clutching his skull.
"Ryuji!" Akari grabbed his shoulders, her voice frantic. "What's happening? What did that thing do to you?"
Daigo unsheathed his daggers, eyes flicking between Ryuji and the beast. "Hey, hey—if this is some demon possession crap, I'm not dealing with it."
The golden-eyed beast simply watched. Its massive form shimmered like it wasn't entirely in this world.
Ryuji's breathing slowed. He forced himself to focus, pushing through the pain.
"I saw something…" he said finally, his voice hoarse. "A vision. A warrior—like me. But… not me."
The beast inclined its head slightly, as if it had expected this.
"Your blood remembers," it said. "The Storm Warriors were once the protectors of balance. But you… you are the last."
The words struck deep. Ryuji felt an invisible weight settle on his shoulders.
"The last?" he repeated. "What do you mean? What happened to the others?"
"Slaughtered. Erased. Betrayed." The beast's voice carried centuries of grief. "You walk in their footsteps, whether you choose to or not."
Ryuji clenched his fists. It was too much. Too many questions, too many things he didn't understand.
Akari stepped forward, standing between Ryuji and the beast. "So what? You appear now after all this time? Why? What do you want from him?"
The beast's golden eyes flicked to her.
"To survive," it said simply. "The enemy you face now—the Elder, Kenshiro—they are mere shadows of the true storm to come."
A shiver ran down Ryuji's spine. "What storm?"
"The one that ended your ancestors. And if you are not ready, it will end you too."
The weight of those words pressed against Ryuji's chest. The last of his kind? A war that had already destroyed the warriors before him?
Akari turned back to him. "Ryuji… what do we do?"
He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his sword hilt.
"We move forward," he said. His voice was steady, stronger than before. "If this is my past, then I need to know the truth."
The beast let out a deep rumble, almost approving.
"Then step forward, last Storm Warrior. Your fate awaits."
And with that, the golden light engulfed Ryuji—dragging him into the unknown