Destruction of the Thunder Clan

The sharp crack of the explosion froze Alex, his mind racing to process the sudden eruption of sound. It felt like the world itself had stilled—just long enough for panic to set in, for a moment. Then came the screams.

The chandelier above the grand hall swayed precariously, casting fractured light over the panicked crowd. Guests surged toward the exits, a tide of fear and confusion that Alex knew could turn dangerous instantly.

"Stay calm!" someone shouted, but the chaos drowned their voices.

Alex's instincts took over. His eyes swept the room, assessing. The Thunder Castle. It was his first thought, sharp and immediate. The blast hadn't come from the party—it was farther off. But close enough.

"Move to the side!" Alex barked, his voice cutting through the din like a blade. He moved through the crowd with purpose, weaving past clusters of people as they scrambled toward the ornate double doors at the far end of the hall.

"Alex!" Scott's voice rang out from somewhere behind him.

He turned to see his friend waving frantically, Mia clutching his arm. Lauren and her friends stood nearby, eyes wide with alarm but not yet lost to panic. Alex pushed through the throng, reaching them in moments.

"Are you all okay?" he asked, his voice steady despite the pounding in his chest.

Scott nodded quickly. "We're fine. What the hell was that?"

"Explosion," Alex said bluntly. "It's from the Estate. The Thunder Estate."

Lauren's sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Her usual cool demeanor was cracked, her hands gripping the edges of her gown tightly. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah." Alex didn't elaborate. There wasn't time.

"Should we leave?" Mia asked, her voice trembling.

Alex hesitated. The rational part of him knew they were safer away from whatever was happening. But another part—older, heavier—demanded to go toward the danger. Toward the Estate.

"Help and keep people moving," he told Scott and Mia, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Stay together and get to safety. I'll find you later."

"What are you going to do?" Lauren asked, stepping closer.

Alex met her piercing blue eyes, searching for something to anchor himself in the chaos. "I'm going to find out what's happening it's my home, after all," he said simply.

"Alone?" she asked, her voice edged with disbelief.

"Yeah," he said, already turning away.

"Alex—"

The look he gave her over his shoulder silenced her. "I'll be fine."

Lauren reluctantly accepted, 

Alex pushed through the crowd again, his focus narrowing as he neared the doors. The air outside would tell him more. Confirm what he already suspected.

Another tremor shook the ground beneath his feet as he reached the threshold. He stumbled, catching himself against the doorframe. A flash of light painted the night sky a sickly orange hue. In the distance, the unmistakable silhouette of the palace loomed, its smoke curling upward like a sinister banner.

Alex's jaw tightened. This wasn't just an accident. It couldn't be.

Behind him, the cries of frightened partygoers faded into the background as a single thought consumed him.

Something had happened at the estate. And whatever it was, it would change everything.

….

The ground beneath Alex shuddered again, each tremor accompanied by a deep, guttural explosion reverberating through the city. From the balcony of the now-abandoned hall, he gazed out over a scene of chaos. Flames clawed hungrily at the night sky in the distance, their orange tongues silhouetting the once-proud towers of the Thunder's castle. Thick, churning smoke spiraled upward, blotting out the stars, while bursts of unnatural light—brilliant flashes of blue, red, and green—intertwined with the inferno, painting the horizon in an apocalyptic glow.

Below him, the streets were a living nightmare. Panic gripped the city like a vice. People screamed as they poured out of shops, restaurants, and homes, clutching what little they could carry. Children cried, their voices lost amidst the cacophony of shouts and the relentless, rhythmic pounding of boots against cobblestones. Carts were overturned, their contents spilling into the streets, while desperate merchants scrambled to salvage whatever they could.

A bakery erupted into flames when a stray ember landed on its thatched roof, sending sparks into the air. The night was filled with the scent of burning wood and scorched flesh. A woman tripped, her belongings scattered across the ground, but no one stopped to help. Instead, they surged past her, a frantic, faceless tide of humanity driven by primal fear.

Above the chaos, the castle loomed, a beacon of destruction. Each explosion rippled outward, the force causing other buildings to collapse and shattering windows. The city's once-bustling heart was crumbling, its life drained by the relentless assault.

Alex clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he felt dread and urgency. He couldn't waste another second. Whatever happened at the estate didn't seem random. He leaped from the balcony without hesitation, crouching on the cobblestone path below. The impact sent a small shockwave rippling outward, cracking the stone beneath his feet.

He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, shutting out the chaos around him. Deep within, he reached for the storm—the ever-present hum of thunder in his veins and the sharp, crackling pulse of lightning in his muscles. His breathing slowed as he focused, his heart syncing with the rhythm of the tempest inside him.

When Alex opened his eyes, they glowed faintly, electric gold coursing through his irises. The storm answered his call.

With a sharp inhale, he pushed off the ground. Golden lightning sheathed his body, illuminating the shadows around him as he became a motion blur. Each step shattered the ground beneath him, leaving scorched cracks in his wake—electricity crackled in the air, warping the space around him.

Buildings and streets whipped past in a chaotic blur, streaks of firelight and shattered streetlamps cutting through the darkness. Motorcars, abandoned on the road, exploded as the energy radiating off Alex's form surged too close. The scent of burning oil mingled with the acrid tang of smoke and ozone.

The hour-long journey shrank into minutes as Alex pushed himself harder and faster. The storm within roared louder with every heartbeat. His focus sharpened to a razor's edge, blocking everything except the distant, burning castle.

When the estate came into view, his breath hitched in his throat. It was worse than he'd imagined.

Towers and walls that once stood proud and strong now lay in ruin, their mighty spires reduced to rubble. Debris littered the once-pristine grounds, and craters marred the earth where devastating explosions had struck. The great walls, which had stood for decades, were now fractured and crumbling, their protective magic shattered.

The entrance gates were no longer gates—they were obliterated, the once-massive runes-embedded doors twisted into mangled heaps of metal and splinters. Bodies of guards were strewn across the ground like discarded toys, their armor melted and charred. The acrid stench of death and destruction was suffocating.

Alex didn't falter. Instead of heading for the ruined estate gate, he veered to the side, moving toward a hidden passage known only to the castle's main family. The path was concealed behind a jagged rock formation that seemed untouched amidst the carnage.

Pressing his palm against a hidden switch, he felt the faint pulse of magic as the passage groaned open. The air inside was cool and damp, starkly contrasting to the blazing inferno. He stepped into the corridor, and as soon as he entered, he felt like he had just passed through a barrier. However, he couldn't stop the walls from closing in around him as the sound of the chaos faded to a dull roar.

Lightning flickered across his skin, illuminating the narrow path ahead. Each step he took echoed softly, the stillness of the passage amplifying his every movement. His breathing steadied, his focus unwavering.

There was no time to lose.

Emerging from the hidden passage after close to an hour of navigating his way around, into the heart of the castle, Alex's breath hitched, his lungs seizing at the devastation before him. The grand hall—once a symbol of power and prestige—was a blood-soaked ruin. The towering marble pillars, engraved with the legacy of his clan, were now fractured and crumbling, their shattered remains scattered across the floor. Chandeliers that once bathed the hall in golden light hung by broken chains, flickering as they sputtered their last embers.

Amidst the wreckage, bodies lay strewn across the floor like discarded dolls—guards, attendants, warriors—all lifeless both of the thunder clans and the invaders, their expressions frozen in terror. The scent of charred flesh and iron hung thick in the air, mixing with the acrid tang of burning wood and ozone.

Then he saw them.

Logan, his elder brother, slumped against a collapsed pillar, a dagger buried deep in his chest, blood spilling from his lips. His usually sharp, commanding eyes were dull, flickering between consciousness and the void. Nearby, Morgan, his sister, lay sprawled on the fractured floor, her once-radiant golden hair soaked in blood, a crimson pool spreading beneath her motionless form.

A cold fist clenched around Alex's heart.

"No…" The whisper barely escaped his lips, drowned beneath the cacophony of the battle raging ahead.

At the center of the destruction, his father stood alone—unbowed, unyielding. His signature golden lightning arced wildly around him, illuminating his battered body. His tunic was torn, his once-imposing form marred with deep wounds that bled freely. But despite his injuries, his stance remained firm, an unshakable force amidst the chaos.

Opposing him were three monstrous presences, radiating raw, unrelenting power.

The head of the Fire Clan stood wreathed in an inferno, his entire body engulfed in white-hot flames that twisted and flared with his every movement. The mere heat of his presence had turned the floor beneath him into molten slag, sending waves of distortion through the air.

Beside him, the Water Clan's matriarch glided across the battlefield, her form encased in a spiraling tempest of water. Each step left ripples of shimmering liquid, freezing and melting in unnatural succession. The moisture in the air thickened, bending to her will, warping reality itself.

And the third—The Earth Clan's head. A walking cataclysm. Every motion he made sent shockwaves rippling outward, fracturing the floor, and splintering the walls. The castle groaned under his presence as if the foundations were caving beneath his authority.

Three against one.

Alex clenched his hands into trembling fists, golden sparks crackling along his skin. His katana vibrated faintly at his waist, responding to his sheer fury.

He was about to move, to charge in despite the overwhelming odds—until a familiar voice whispered in his ear, freezing him in place.

"Alex, darling."

His breath hitched.

The voice was weak yet steady, soft yet commanding. It carried both urgency and finality—the voice of someone who had already accepted their fate.

"Mother?" Alex barely managed the word, his voice lost amidst the battle's roar.

"Do not step forward," she continued, urgency laced in every syllable. "Listen carefully. I'm inputting coordinates into your mind. You must leave—now."

"But—" His gaze snapped back to his father, still standing despite the impossible battle before him. He saw Logan, gasping for breath, and Morgan lying still, her fate uncertain. His hands trembled. "I can't just leave them!"

"Alex," his mother's voice hardened, her words slicing through his resistance like a blade. "It's already too late for any of us. You would only add to the casualties."

A fresh wave of helplessness crashed over him, suffocating.

"The only reason they haven't sensed you is because of the rune drawn on the tunnel. What I'm about to send you will explain everything in more detail."There was a brief pause. "I need you to live, Alex. You can't do that if you die here."

His legs felt like lead. His heart pounded against his ribs as if trying to break free.

"I'm sorry, Alex." Her voice softened now, breaking at the edges. "But please… run. For my sake. For the clan's sake."

Then, like a burning brand searing into his mind, a series of clear and precise coordinates ignited in his thoughts, leaving no room for hesitation.

Alex staggered back, his heart screaming at him to stay, to fight. But his mother's words weighed heavier than steel chains, anchoring him in place.

"Run, Alex," she whispered. "Survive."

The storm within him crackled, flickering erratically across his skin, his control slipping. He took one last, desperate look at the battlefield—

Logan was still breathing but fading.

Morgan, unmoving in her blood.

His father was a lone titan against three titans.

His jaw clenched, fists trembling with fury and weakness.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and tears began to flow from his eyes. The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

Then, he turned.

Forcing his feet to move, he pushed himself back into the hidden passage, each step heavier than the last. The echoes of battle chased him—thunderous clashes, the roar of flames, the crash of waves. His father's golden lightning flared one previous time, illuminating the battlefield behind him.

Then Alex ran.

Lightning surged around him as he pushed forward, golden energy streaks illuminating the dark passage. His vision blurred, as storms of flashing lights and chaotic memories.

With every step, the castle faded behind him.

With every heartbeat, the storm within him grew louder.

With every breath, survival became the only option.

And so, Alex ran—toward the unknown. Toward survival.