Lightning wolves

As Max's team pressed deeper into the heart of the Berserk Lightning Region, the atmosphere grew ever more oppressive, like the sky itself was slowly lowering to crush them beneath its weight.

The storm above roared with relentless fury, lashing the charred landscape in sheets of violet lightning and sending sparks sizzling over the blackened rocks. Even the very air seemed sharp, charged with so much static that each breath tasted metallic on the tongue.

Yet despite the thunder rolling overhead, the group moved cautiously but steadily, weaving around jagged pillars of stone and rivers of crackling energy. Their pace was tense but determined, each of them silently aware that any step could bring them face-to-face with death in this merciless land.

Then, all at once, Max froze in mid-step. His clothes bellowed as lightning flickered around him, his gaze growing distant and focused, as though looking at something none of the others could see.