The chimes of the Chaos Gate at the entrance of the city echoed as the form of Vance Finiraldi faded into the Area, adorned with a ragged cloak atop his usual attire. He pulled the hood over his face, walking deeper into town and surveying the abandoned buildings and streets drenched by endless rain. After minutes of wandering aimlessly, Vance eventually found himself standing in what he presumed to be the main square, a large open space with the remains of a fountain at its center and dilapidated stalls and buildings surrounding it.

About as good of a place as I can get...

Though monsters had yet to appear before him, he decided that this spot would be the best place for what he set out to do that day: reacquaint himself with his command over lightning. His duel with Lanceor and his subsequent separation from him seemed to have permanently altered his abilities, as he quickly found out afterwards that he couldn't call upon them the same way he had when he served as the former lightning god's host. And unlike before, he had no intention of taking a laissez-faire approach to relearning them. Whether he held a personal attachment to it or not, the powers granted to him by his "godhood" were what kept him connected to whatever was going on inside The World, and the last thing he needed was for them to fail on him at a critical moment.


A faint ping resounded in The Crusader's ears, prompting him to look at his chat log, as his eyes narrowed at the unexpected and cryptic notification that seemed tailored to call for his attention. While disguised a typical in-game system message on the surface, its topic and the phrasing was decidedly not like one. Neither was the next.


In fact, it was almost like a command. Whatever it was, he doubted it was of an automated nature. It felt like someone or something was speaking to him on the other end, and he had no idea who it could have been. Aether? Twilight? Maybe even whatever was left of Lanceor.

Regardless, Vance didn't even need to be told what to do.

Static crackled around his body as the Area's native storm began responding to his will and presence. Strong winds howled as it became more violent and oppressive. Its clouds began to expand their reach, covering what little was left of the visible sky as the city darkened even further. As the rain fell, even it gradually became affected by his influence as it grew heavier and denser. Even the raindrops themselves started to take on an unusual appearance. Bright and easily distinguishable by the naked eye, it was almost as if it light itself was falling from the sky like a meteor shower.

No trace of the storm's natural state remained as lightning erratically crashed down, shocking anything and everything that Vance could and could not see. Thunder rumbled overhead as the lightning continue to fall around him with greater frequency all throughout the city.

As one whose godhood was still nascent, the Crusader wasn't sure of what to make of the storm he had just conjured, especially since it was the first time he had cast it as Vance, rather than Claude himself. Back when his power was derived from Lanceor's, his Thunderstorm wasn't nowhere close to being so chaotic. In fact, it was almost as if it were out of —


It was at that point he heard the growls of monsters that became louder with the passing seconds. Three pairs of glowing eyes were trained on him from the surrounding alleys, their bodies shrouded in both the shadows cast by the buildings and the occasional yet intense and violent electricity cloaking them, making their forms hard to distinguish for him from a distance.

Cursing under his breath as he watched them slowly approach, Vance readied his spear as it flashed into his hands, mentally preparing himself for what was likely going to turn into a messy, all-out melee as more sought him out and joined the fray.[/div]