Anomaly!

In those countless realm Somewhere in mortal realm....

In the depths of a dense forest lay the small village of Elmsgrove.

Nestled among towering trees with emerald-green canopies, the village was made up of cozy cottages with thatched roofs, built from stone, wood, and vines. At night, glowing moss covered the cottages, casting a soft, crimson light.

A clear stream flowed through the center of the village, sparkling with traces of spiritual energy that had seeped into the earth over centuries.

A wooden bridge, intricately carved with scenes of mythical creatures and ancient heroes, crossed the stream. Protective runes were etched into stones marking the village's boundary, glowing faintly to keep away evil spirits and dark creatures from the deeper woods.

The air was filled with the scent of wildflowers, and the distant songs of mystical birds added to the enchanting atmosphere.

In the village square stood a grand, ancient Oak tree. Its wide branches and hollowed trunk served as a meeting place and council hall.

The villagers—humans and other woodland folk—lived in harmony with nature, tending to enchanted gardens, crafting potions, and weaving charms to ensure good harvests.

The dense forest surrounding Elmsgrove was full of hidden wonders: glowing mushrooms that lit secret paths, enchanted groves where time moved differently, and ancient ruins hinting at a long-lost civilization. Though the village seemed peaceful, it held many secrets. Those who go beyond its protective boundaries often returned with tales of strange encounters and glimpses of a world beyond human understanding.

But suddenly,the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and the wind howled through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway violently. Rain poured in heavy sheets, turning the forest floor into a muddy mess. Lightning flashed sporadically, illuminating the towering trees in fleeting, eerie bursts.

On that day,two guards stood talking near the village's edge.

Did you hear about the White-Fang Tiger spotted near the eastern ridge?" Deck asked, his voice tense as he tightened his grip on his spear.

Roman nodded, his eyes scanning the trees. "Yeah, Old Garp says it's bigger than any tiger he's ever seen. Some villagers think it's not just a normal tiger-maybe it's a spirit beast."

Deck shivered. "A spirit beast? We're barely ready to handle a regular tiger, let alone one with spiritual powers. Do you think the chief will send hunters after it?"

The chief has to," Roman replied seriously. "The beast is too close. If it gets hungry, it might come here, and our walls won't stop it. But even the hunters are nervous. This isn't just a hunt; it's life or death."

Deck sighed, looking down at the sharp stakes below the wall. "I just hope they bring enough talismans from the shrine. If this beast really is something more, we'll need all the protection we can get.

Roman's expression softened. And the chief's child is about to be born any time now. The village should be celebrating, but with that beast out there, everyone's just hoping it doesn't bring bad luck.

Just as he finished speaking, a low growl came from the forest. The air grew colder, and the mist thickened, swirling strangely. Roman and Deck exchanged worried looks, their hearts pounding

Inside a sturdy longhouse, the village healer, bai-ning, was preparing for a significant birth. As the storm outside intensified, a bolt of lightning struck an ancient oak tree. The tree split open, revealing a glowing, mysterious symbol within its trunk.

Inside the longhouse, Hana, the village chieftain's wife, was in the throes of labor. Each contraction was powerful, shaking the very walls of the house. The air was thick with charged energy, and the earth seemed to pulse in rhythm with her pain.

With a final, electrifying flash of lightning, Hana gave birth to a boy. But instead of crying, as he drew his first breath, the storm abruptly ceased, and an unnatural calm descended upon the village.

The child's eyes glowed with an eerie light, echoing the storm's intensity that had just passed.

Outside, the villagers witnessed a towering, ghostly figure—a guardian spirit—emerge in the storm's aftermath, casting a protective aura over Elmsgrove.

"It's here!" Roman shouted, gripping his spear tightly.

The village erupted into chaos as alarm bells rang out. Villagers rushed to take shelter, mothers grabbed their children, and the men seized whatever weapons they could find. The beast moved with terrifying speed, leaping over the wall in a single bound

Deck thrust his spear at the tiger, but it snapped like a twig against the beast's body. The tiger swiped at him, sending him crashing into the wall.

Roman barely had time to react before he stabbed his spear into the tiger's side, but it only made the beast angrier.

The tiger roared, a sound that seemed to shake the ground, and with a powerful swipe, Roman was thrown to the ground.

Inside the chief's house, villagers gathered, forming a protective circle around the chief and his wife, who was in labor.

The village shaman chanted desperately, trying to protect them with talismans and incense.

But then, something strange happened. As the baby's first cries filled the room, the air pulsed with an unseen force. A soft, golden light began to shine from the baby, growing brighter with each second. The shaman stopped chanting, her eyes wide with surprise.

Outside, the White-Fang Tiger paused, sensing the change in the air. It turned its head toward the chief's house, growling low. At the same time, the giant ghostly figure disappeared from sight.

Roman and Deck, bruised and bloodied, watched in disbelief as the golden light seeped out of the chief's house, spreading across the village.

The light grew stronger, wrapping the entire village in a warm, protective glow.

The beast hesitated, its dark power weakening under the light's influence. Then, with a furious roar, it charged at the chief's house, as if to destroy the source of the power.

But before it could reach the house, the golden light flared brightly, creating a barrier around the village.

The White-Fang Tiger hit the barrier, its form distorting under the power of the light. The beast howled in pain, its spiritual energy breaking apart as it was forced back.

Roman and Deck could only watch in awe as the spirit beast was pushed away by the mysterious force coming from the newborn.

The golden light surged one last time, and with a final roar, the White-Fang Tiger was completely engulfed by the light, disappearing into nothingness.

The village fell silent as the golden light slowly faded, leaving only a gentle glow around the chief's house. Roman and Deck exchanged looks, their faces showing a mix of relief and wonder.

What just happened?" Deck asked, his voice shaky.

Inside the longhouse, the shaman whispered a prayer of thanks, her eyes filled with tears. The newborn, now held by the chief, cooed softly, unaware of the miracle they had just caused

Hana, too, was shocked by what had happened, something she could only describe as a miracle.

Chief Zex stood beside her, his face a mixture of awe and concern. He approached his wife, his eyes searching her face for reassurance.

Hana, is he... is he truly ours?"

Hana, her strength waning but her spirit resolute, nodded slowly. "Yes, Zex. This is our child. But look at him—his hair is as white as storm clouds, and his eyes... they shine like gold. He's unlike any child born here before."

Zex leaned in closer, his gaze fixed on the infant. The child's hair was striking, pure white, contrasting sharply with his golden eyes that seemed to glow softly in the dim light of the longhouse.

"He has the mark of the storm," Zex murmured, his voice heavy with both wonder and apprehension.

The seer spoke of great power and danger. Do you think the storm was a sign, Hana?"

Hana looked down at the child, her expression a mix of pride and worry. "I don't know, Zex. But the storm's end and the guardian spirit's appearance—perhaps they are signs that our child is destined for something extraordinary."

Zex's hand gently rested on Hana's shoulder.

We must protect him, guide him. If the seer's words are true, he could be the key to our village's future. We need to prepare for whatever challenges lie ahead.

Hana nodded, her resolve strengthening. "Yes, we will protect him. And we will make sure he is ready for whatever destiny awaits him."

Zex glanced at their son, his voice filled with both hope and determination. "Zarek. Zarek Bloodrune.... It seems fitting for a child born in a storm. We must ensure that his name lives up to the power it represents."

As Zex held his wife's hand, the atmosphere in the longhouse seemed to shift, the air charged with a new sense of purpose. The villagers, sensing the change, gathered outside, their eyes drawn to the unknown spirit watching over Elmsgrove.

Zarek, wrapped snugly in a cloth, slept peacefully, his white hair and golden eyes a symbol of hope and uncertainty.

The future of Elmsgrove had begun to change, and the path ahead was now intertwined with the fate of this heaven-defying child...

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In the depths of the celestial realm, far beyond the reach of mortals, the God of Chaos, EATAN, sat on a throne carved from swirling shadows and flames.

His eyes, like twin voids, stared into the endless expanse of the cosmos, where the threads of fate intertwined and danced to an unseen rhythm.

Beside him, lower deity his butler, Sebastian, stood at attention. His form was sharp and polished in a dark black suit, with an aura of restrained power that contrasted with the chaotic energies surrounding them.

The God of Chaos leaned forward, his lips curling into a sly smile as he observed the newborn child in Elmsgrove. His voice, rich and malevolent, echoed through the dark chamber.

So, the storm has finally delivered!!

its gift to the world. Zarek, they call him. A fitting name for one touched by the storm's fury.

Sebastian, ever composed, glanced at the image of the child. "Why does he interest you, superme one? He is but a child, fragile and untested."

The God of Chaos chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers through the shadows.

Ah, but this child is not like the others. He was born under the storm's wrath, marked by powers that even the earth trembled to contain. His birth was foretold in whispers and prophecies long forgotten by mortals. Zarek is a wild card in the game of fate—a piece that could tip the balance in ways neither light nor darkness can predict.

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, considering his master's words. "And what is your plan, supreme one? Will you nurture this chaos within him or seek to twist it to your will?"

The God of Chaos reclined back in his throne, his gaze never leaving the image of Zarek. "Chaos is not something to be controlled, Sebastian. It is a force that thrives in unpredictability. I shall watch him, yes, but I will not interfere—at least, not yet. The world will shape him, mold him, and in time, he will either become its savior or its undoing."

Sebastian's eyes flickered with intrigue as he absorbed the information. "So we simply... wait?"

The God of Chaos nodded slowly, a sinister smile still playing on his lips.

Indeed. For now, we let the threads of fate weave their intricate patterns. But rest assured, when the time comes, Zarek will stand at the crossroads of order and chaos, and in that moment, the whole existence will know the true power of a storm-born child.

As the God of Chaos fell silent, the chamber echoed with the distant sound of thunder, a reminder that the storm's legacy had only just begun.

Sebastian bowed respectfully, retreating into the shadows, knowing that the child named Zarek would be watched closely by forces far beyond his understanding.

The stage was set, and the game had only just begun...

(NOTE -Elmsgrove means elm forest, and Zarek means dark or fierce...)