There are gentle rainstorms.
And then there are orchestral hurricanes made of songbirds, thunderclaps, and rebellious tempo shifts.
Ren Vireo was currently experiencing the latter.
"THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT BY A SOUNDTRACK TO MY LIFE!" he screamed, clutching the edge of the floating skiff as it pinwheeled through a cyclone of musical madness.
The sky above wasn't just dark—it was sheet-music black, strung with jagged lightning bolts that struck in rhythm. Winds howled in crescendo. And through it all, a massive, swirling formation loomed like a living conductor's baton—The Humstorm.
Cadencia, ever calm in chaos, had her eyes closed and arms spread. "Let the storm feel your beat, Ren!"
"I DON'T HAVE A BEAT—I HAVE PANIC!"
A wind elemental zipped past them, shaped like a saxophone with wings. It played a moody solo as it spun away into the maelstrom.
Ren's hair stood on end as thunder struck near the bow. But instead of a boom, it exploded into a gong so powerful his fillings vibrated.
And then…
Something answered.
From deep within the eye of the storm came a low, echoing hum. Deep. Resonant. Alien. And yet…
Familiar.
The skiff wobbled, then turned—of its own accord—toward the sound.
"Oh no," Cadencia whispered, eyes wide. "It's reacting to you."
"Great. The storm wants to be my friend. Or eat me. Honestly, at this point, who can tell?"
◇
The skiff crossed into the calm eye of the storm.
And time… bent.
It was silent here. Too silent. The wind had stilled, the rain halted midair like frozen dancers. Even Ren's own heartbeat seemed to wait.
Before them hovered a floating shard of crystal—shaped like a bell, cracked down one side.
From its core pulsed the same hum they'd heard before. A vibration that wasn't just sound—it was memory made audible.
Cadencia stepped back. "Ren, that's a Sentient Resonance Relic. Old as Cindale itself. And if it's responding to you, then… you're part of its score now."
"Is that a good thing?"
"No."
The crystal flared—and everything shattered into song.
◇
Flashback. Sort of.
Ren floated through a kaleidoscope of memories not his own.
A long-ago Composer arguing with clouds.
A violin forged from a falling star.
A war fought with silence as its deadliest weapon.
Then—he saw himself.
Not as he was, but as a theory. Possibilities unfurled: Ren the Wanderer, the Weaver, the Whisperer of Realms.
The storm wasn't just showing him visions.
It was composing with him.
Building a song titled "What If?"
Ren clenched his fists. "I'm not a What If. I'm just… me."
That defiance echoed through the storm. The crystal cracked further—then shivered in harmony with his pulse.
Suddenly, Ren understood.
The relic wasn't testing him.
It was waiting for him.
◇
Back in the real world, Ren opened his eyes.
He reached out.
Touched the crystal.
And the Humstorm… sang.
Not wildly. Not violently. But in harmony with his own internal melody.
The winds eased. The rain turned to misty laughter. The sky bled color like a painter finding courage again.
The floating skiff gently drifted downward as the storm dispersed like applause.
Ren held the crystal, now inert and warm in his palm.
"I think I just earned my second verse."
Cadencia nodded slowly. "You didn't tame the storm."
"I harmonized with it."
She smiled. "That's what real Catalysts do."