Chapter 3: The Forgotten Shrine

  The path narrowed and darkened.

  Obinna and Asha moved through the jungle like blades through silk—carefully, deliberately. The air was heavy with moisture and something unspoken. Every leaf shimmered like it had eyes. The deeper they went, the more the silence weighed. Nature here wasn’t still—it was listening.

  Obinna stopped.

  A pulse hit his chest.

  Not magical. Not imagined.

  His blood remembered something his mind did not.

  They broke through to a clearing—twisted roots strangling broken stone, like time had tried to bury what the world feared.

  A single step.

  A glyph flared beneath his boot.

  [Divine Echo Detected: Shrine of Amadioha – Status: Desecrated]

  His breath caught. The name echoed inside him.

  Amadioha.

  Storm-Bringer.

  Judge.

  Executioner.

  “Storm god,” he whispered.

  Asha halted beside him. “What’s left of one.”

  The air collapsed.

  No wind. No birds. Just pressure. Dense. Ancient.

  Then—light. Blinding.

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  Runes erupted from the ground in a spiral—wrapping his legs, his waist, his chest. Like the world had gripped him by the ribs and refused to let go.

  [Bloodline Trial Activated: Heir of Okwu – Phase One: Wrathbound Rite]

  [Warning: Incomplete Shrine – Conditions Unstable]

  The shrine groaned. Stone twisted upward, forming a cracked dome. Lightning stitched the seams like jagged thread. The inside hummed with wrath.

  Obinna’s knees buckled. Sparks licked at his skin.

  Asha stepped back, blade ready. “This place is broken,” she warned. “And the god might be too.”

  He knelt.

  Then—

  A face emerged.

  Not flesh. Not spirit. Storm made shape.

  Eyes like burning verdicts.

  Lips like thunder.

  “You dare come unbowed?” the voice bellowed. “Then kneel—or burn.”

  Obinna’s heartbeat stuttered.

  He gritted his teeth.

  “I fight because no one else will,” he said. “Because death chose me—and I chose to answer. I carry the storm not as a gift—but as a debt.”

  The voice paused.

  Then—

  The world cracked.

  A bolt fell. No warning. No sound.

  Just pain.

  It struck his chest like the hand of a forgotten god. Electricity tore through every cell. He arched. Screamed. The shrine pulsed around him.

  [Skill Unlocked: Stormbind – Channel divine lightning. One use per Trial.]

  [Essence Surge: +30 ?]

  He hit the ground, steam rising from his back. Breath ragged. Fingers twitching.

  The light faded. The dome dissolved. But the power stayed. Coiled. Watching.

  Asha hovered beside him, expression unreadable.

  “You handled that better than the last guy I saw try,” she said. “He exploded.”

  Obinna laughed. Then winced. “Progress.”

  “You monologued mid-trial,” she added. “Full divine theatrics. I was nearly inspired.”

  “I like to put on a show.”

  She smirked. “You’re lucky I didn’t clap.”

  He sat up slowly, the storm still humming beneath his ribs.

  “Why help me?” he asked.

  “You’re loud,” she said. “Storm-marked. Gods listen to noise. I need answers. You’re making thunder.”

  “You want to use me.”

  “I want to live,” she corrected. “Everything else? Strategy.”

  A pause.

  “You served a god once,” he said.

  Asha’s gaze clouded.

  “Fire god,” she said. “Local. Proud. Burned too brightly. They used him. Cut him into heat for their forges.”

  “And you helped.”

  “I caged him. Didn’t know what I was doing. Not until his screams were the only prayer left.”

  Silence fell. Not awkward. Reverent.

  Then—

  [New Trait: Divine Affinity – Storm Lineage Strengthened]

  [Shrine of Judgment Proximity: 24%]

  Far above, unseen, seven masked figures watched from a throne-ringed void.

  One cracked their porcelain mask.

  “He’s not supposed to grow this fast,” they murmured.

  Another said nothing—but turned.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  Obinna stood. Steam curling from his skin.

  The storm inside him no longer raged.

  It waited.

  TO BE CONTINUED...