Dream stone reveal
BACK ON EARTH – JACK'S HOUSE, INNER TRAINING HALL]
The air is warm with tension and love. White glyphs glow faintly across the tiled floor. Old-school Ghanaian home design meets sleek 22nd-century tech. In the middle of it all: a father and his son. Training. Bonding. Dancing in combat like time itself was watching.
---
VALITOR (smirking, rolling his shoulder):
> "So, Miro taught you Sage Arts, eh? The combat discipline that mirrors your opponent's strength and durability?"
He gives a soft chuckle.
"Impressive. But let's see if the student knows how to apply the principle... not just the punches."
---
JACK (grinning, cracking his neck):
> "It's more than just application, Dad... it's instinct now. I move, it flows."
White hues begin to shimmer around his arms, forming soft pulses of Sage energy.
---
VALITOR (nods):
> "Then flow, my son. Let's dance."
---
Jack lunges forward—clean, practiced strikes. Not flashy. Purposeful. He throws a right jab, spin-kick, elbow combo. His movements ripple with Sage markings, every motion drawing on the balance between his power and Valitor's presence.
---
VALITOR (internally, impressed):
> "Good… he's not just fighting. He's measuring."
Valitor blocks each strike with graceful ease—each parry a lesson, each movement a message.
---
VALITOR (grinning, mid-block):
> "Precision's nice... but let me show you the old way."
Without warning, Valitor steps in—his stance low, his hand glowing with pure white Avian energy—and delivers the Traditional Sage Palm Strike right into Jack's chest.
---
JACK (blasted back midair, slamming into the couch):
> "HOH?!?"
He coughs, wind knocked clean out of him. Eyes wide. Chest burning—not in pain, but with awakened energy.
---
JACK (wheezing, laughing):
> "You… actually did it. That was textbook! I felt the resonance correction—you legit recalibrated my own flow!"
He sits up, still chuckling.
"Bro… my spine realigned. I think I saw my birth certificate flash for a second."
---
VALITOR (arms crossed, amused):
> "Lesson one. Sage Arts isn't about looking cool—it's about response. You respond to the very idea of your opponent… not just their body."
He taps his temple.
"That's why the palm strike hit your core, not your body. It corrected your emotional overcharge mid-flow."
---
JACK (nodding, rubbing his chest):
> "Makes sense… Miro said similar, but it hits different when your dad blasts you into your grandma's photo frame."
---
VALITOR (laughs heartily):
> "You'll live. Besides, Sage Arts is rooted in restraint. I barely tapped you."
His tone shifts slightly—serious, warm.
"You've come far, Jack. But Sage mastery means mastering yourself... even in battle."
---
JACK (standing up, eyes igniting with resolve):
> "Then I've got more work to do. Because next time, I'm dodging that palm strike."
---
VALITOR (smiling, stepping back into stance):
> "Then come. Show me your clarity, son of the storm."
---
They clash again—light against light, father against son, warrior to warrior. The house echoes with the sound of legacy being forged—not in silence, but in shared sweat and laughter.
The light is soft now, post-sparring energy floating in the air like old jazz smoke. Jack's hair is a bit tousled, sweat lining his brow, but his eyes—his eyes are gleaming. A storm ready to speak.
---
JACK (cracking his neck):
> "Alright... that palm strike woke something up.
But now, let me show you what I've really been working on."
---
VALITOR (arms crossed, intrigued):
> "Hm. I saw those instincts. Miro didn't just train you. He broke you in."
---
JACK (grinning):
> "I'll take that as a compliment."
He steps back, breathes in. His aura begins to swirl—white lightning threads spiraling around his limbs, then his torso. Symbols emerge on his skin—glyphs of experience, etched into soul-skin from war and will.
---
JACK (raising one hand):
> "Let's start simple... you already know Avian Compression."
He lowers his power to Level 3. Then Level 2. Then Level 1. Each time, his presence shrinks but sharpens.
---
JACK:
> "Flash Instincts."
A crackle—his body shifts, almost like static in real life. The air bends subtly around his movement, eyes darting in all directions.
---
JACK:
> "Hollow Step."
He vanishes for half a second—phases through the wall, through the floor, reappears behind his dad upside-down like a bat, chuckling.
---
JACK:
> "Avian Punch."
He throws it mid-air toward the wall—it doesn't land but the impact dents space where it should have hit, the punch responding to his affinity: divine lightning. The wall flashes as if warning it could break across dimensions if the punch connects fully.
---
VALITOR (slow clapping):
> "Alright now... you do know your Avian basics. Not bad for a street-level menace.
But I got a few tricks too. Watch and learn."
He casually gestures, and a flicker—Swap Transposition. He and a coffee mug on the table instantly switch places. Valitor lands mid-sip.
---
VALITOR:
> "Swap Transposition. Comes in handy during boss fights... or when someone drinks your drink."
Jack laughs.
---
VALITOR (serious now):
> "Now this—The Spot."
The air shifts. A faint glowing ring appears in front of Valitor's hand, aiming toward Jack's neck.
---
VALITOR:
> "Once I tag you... I can't miss. No matter how fast, how sneaky, how slippery you are."
---
JACK (nods, impressed):
> "We're definitely running that one later."
---
VALITOR (stepping forward):
> "Echo Sense."
He taps the floor lightly with his foot. The room responds in sonic pulses—Valitor's body becomes still, alert like a radar tower. Jack can feel him reading sound as data—preparing counters before Jack even moves.
---
VALITOR:
> "Now, watch this... Warping Intensity."
Valitor's aura explodes—but not outward. The room folds slightly, the air tilts, a chair shifts direction unnaturally. Space is warping like heatwaves on a hot road. The fabric of the room is now dancing to his command.
---
JACK (eyes wide):
> "What the heck—did you just bend space with your mood?"
---
VALITOR (grinning):
> "Exactly. Welcome to real Forger stuff."
---
JACK:
> "Alright...you flexed. But lemme show you why I'm different."
Jack steps forward. Calm. He raises his arm. Lightning doesn't burst this time—it waits. It trembles. The air hushes like it's holding its breath.
---
JACK (voice steady):
> "This technique was born in chaos.
In the Free Abyss... Bhine and Jair tried to convert me.
They trapped me in a dimension made from every version of me I hated.
They didn't know... that they were sharpening a storm."
---
VALITOR (suddenly still):
> "…You found a custom technique there?"
---
JACK (low and clear):
> "I found me.
And that's how I birthed—Storm Crucible."
---
He slams both palms together. The lightning doesn't just crackle—it judges. The air around him splits, symbols of clarity spiral in all directions. His aura glows with impossible color—a storm rendered in divinity. Every sound, lie, illusion… it all breaks apart in its presence.
---
JACK (as storm surrounds him):
> "Storm Crucible—
It purges lies,
destroys dimensions,
burns the corrupt—
But only those who resist Clarity."
The lights flicker. Reality shivers. Time itself pauses to watch.
---
VALITOR (eyes wide, voice soft):
> "You forged a technique that attacks people at the conceptual level..."
---
JACK (steps forward, aura dissipating):
> "Bhine didn't expect that. Neither did I.
But that's the thing about clarity…
It's not the lightning.
It's what comes after the storm."
---
VALITOR (quietly, proudly):
> "…Storm with Clarity."
---
They stand in silence. A father, a son. A Forger and the next.
And the storm? It's just getting started.
THE TRAXIAN AUDITORIUM – FLEX CITY, FREE ABYSS]
The air crackles with potential. Neon-hued clouds swirl in unnatural patterns above the colossal structure, carved from pulsating obsidian and translucent dreamstone. This is the crucible where ideals collapse and rise anew.
---
MANU (arms behind back, clad in the Void-Trainer robes of Flex City):
> "Welcome, Devia disciples.
You're not here to be perfect.
You're here to become real.
Avia asked you to overcome.
Devia? Devia asks you to accept."
The crowd is mixed. Wide-eyed initiates. Hardened ex-Avians. And in the far balcony, the Ordained watch in silence.
---
KARI (leaning against a crystal column, eating an apple that glows with rejection-energy):
> "You'll train. You'll fail.
You'll feel your soul break open.
But guess what?
That's when Devia shows up.
Right in the middle of your 'I can't.'"
---
Among the students:
Kranor sharpens his blade, eyes narrowed.
Tarren twitches, panic claw marks still fresh on his gloves.
Meilo stares into his Mirror Portal shard, watching a version of himself he both hates and misses.
Jero clenches his fists—chains rattling faintly.
Nicia's gothic ink curls around her like a living shadow, whispering.
Ulok gently spins a transparent key between his fingers.
Gullia stands heavy in her trauma-born armor—eyes closed, remembering everything.
Marneth levitates slightly, a glow circling her—space cracking gently beneath her boots.
---
MANU (gesturing):
> "Let's warm you up.
Universal techniques first.
You already know them."
---
STUDENTS (chant back like a rhythm):
> "Deviant Blasts.
Conflict Constructs.
Flexible Weave.
Armor of Insecurity.
Punch of Neglect.
Drip Aura Spark."
---
KARI (grins):
> "Oblivion Howl. That's my favorite.
Y'know why?
Because that scream—it ain't rage.
It's the sound of being done."
She lets out a micro-howl—
it ripples through the field like cracked glass and thunder.
---
JASON (from above, Flames of Relevance blazing from his shoulders):
> "Y'all new kids better learn fast.
Devia doesn't wait for your story arc.
It is your story arc."
---
EVE MAID (smirking):
> "Sedation Affinity checking in.
And trust me—once your power stops screaming,
You'll learn how to whisper it into reality."
---
Jairak (quietly, to Jero below):
> "That Rebellion Chains trick of yours... feels like you're starting to own your fear."
---
JERO (gritting teeth, but proud):
> "Still flickers sometimes. But yeah...
When I lock someone down now...
it's not fear holding me.
It's me using fear to hold them."
---
KARI (clapping):
> "Now we gettin' somewhere."
---
Kranor (swinging his sword with Nullthread aura building):
> "This place is chaos...
But for once, it feels like my chaos.
Not Airious standards... not Avian expectations...
Just raw, unruly... me."
---
MEILO (peering into a portal):
> "Devia made my reflections louder...
But it also made me talk back.
That mirror no longer owns me."
---
Nicia (Gothic ink seething like venom):
> "Let 'em choke.
My emotions were always too much for them.
Now... they're too much for everyone."
---
MARNETH (hovering slightly as a dimension trembles nearby):
> "This power... isn't just mine.
It's all the times I got overlooked,
And all the universes that finally looked back."
---
ULOK (quietly):
> "The Door's ready.
I don't force anyone in...
But once they enter...
They're mine."
---
TARREN (flickering):
He stares down at his Panic Claws...they twitch and pulse like memories stitched into flesh.
> "Devia says accept yourself.
But what if yourself is the thing you fear most?"
---
JERO (placing a hand on his shoulder):
> "Then maybe... that's the part worth fighting for."
---
*Suddenly, a blast of warped air echoes through the arena. Flex City's skies shimmer. A new challenger enters—a wanderer from the Pilla Realm, humming with musical light, blending mixtapes and sound concepts. A reminder: Devia is growing.
---
KARI (smiling as she tosses the apple core into the void):
> "Alright students.
You've scratched the surface.
Now let's go deeper."
MANU (loudly):
> "Split into squads. Show us how your trauma dances."
---
The Flex City Auditorium thrums with anticipation.
Devia isn't a power...
It's a permission slip.
BACK AT EARTH – JACK'S HOUSE, IN THE TRAINING ROOM LIT WITH AVIAN FLUX]
Jack is panting, palms raw from trying Swap Transposition for the seventh time. He misses again, ends up swapping with a flower pot instead of the weight dummy. The pot explodes in a puff of petals.
---
JACK (groaning, flopping onto the mat):
> "Ughhh…
How am I supposed to 'feel' what I'm swapping with?!
It's a dumb technique."
---
VALITOR (arms folded, amused):
> "It's not dumb. It's precision.
You don't just swap things.
You acknowledge them…
You honor their position…
Only then will the universe let you exchange with them."
---
JACK (squints):
> "...Okay, sensei-poet. Next time I'll swap with the concept of patience."
---
They both laugh. But then—
WHOOSH—A portal opens in the middle of the room, a swirling spiral of soft colors—gold, teal, cosmic plum.
The Dream Stone's light leaks through, painting the walls like a surreal watercolor.
From it steps Henry, glowing with humble power. Behind him is Grandpa Kofi, in a dashiki woven with Airien glyphs, his staff humming with ancestral forge energy.
---
VALITOR (stepping back slightly):
> "...Impossible.
That hue...that resonance...
You carry the signature of the Dream Stone..."
---
KOFI (smiling softly):
> "Symbol of sacrifice, huh.
Never thought I'd see you in person…
Dead and breathing at the same time?
You really outdid yourself, boy."
---
VALITOR (chuckling, placing a hand over his chest):
> "In Airious...
Death doesn't always mean absence.
Sometimes it's just a... detour through the in-between.
Between entropy and creation.
Between logic and illogic.
A place where essence waits, until purpose remembers it."
---
JACK (jogging to Henry):
> "Bro! You made it?!
Man, you've been glowing up lately.
Literally."
---
HENRY (grinning, fist-bumping):
> "Yeah, I've been... dreaming a lot.
Turns out, I am the Avatar of the Dream Stone.
Still hate waking up though."
---
VALITOR (raising an eyebrow):
> "Dream Stone…?
I thought that was just a myth, a tale told to children when they forget who they are."
---
KOFI (waving his staff as it projects ancient diagrams in the air):
> "It's real.
And it only appears when the balance of the 3-6-9 is in danger.
Three: mind
Six: soul
Nine: Spirit
The Traxis rebellion disrupted all three.
So the Stone came... to dream the balance back into existence."
---
HENRY (stepping forward, dream-hued aura rising):
> "Jack…
This whole conflict…
Avia vs Devia…
Truth vs Flexibility…
It's not just power vs power.
It's an identity collapse.
But the Dream Stone isn't choosing sides.
It's choosing bridges."
---
JACK (pacing):
> "So...
You're saying you can fix all this?"
---
HENRY (serious now):
> "Not me alone.
But the Dream Stone is showing me a path.
A middle layer between conviction and compassion...
Between structure and surrender.
It might just be the key to ending the Forgerverse crisis."
---
VALITOR (nodding slowly):
> "This explains the void in the Avian current.
Traxis isn't just gaining followers…
He's fraying the threads of cosmic direction.
But if the Dream Stone is back…
We may yet find clarity through chaos."
---
KOFI (grinning as he pats Jack's shoulder):
> "The fate of Airious, Earth, and all the realms…
might depend on a bunch of kids who refuse to break.
Now ain't that poetic."
---
JACK (smirking):
> "Well then...
Guess we better get better.
Swap Transposition ain't gonna master itself."
---
HENRY (raising a hand, threads of dream energy wrapping Jack's shoulder gently):
> "Let me help.
The Dream Stone remembers everything.
Even your best potential.
All you gotta do… is believe in it."
---
VALITOR (turns to Kofi):
> "We're going to need the others.
If this is truly the beginning of the final arc…
Then the dreamers must awaken together."
---
Outside the window, thunder rumbles—somewhere in the Free Abyss, another soul has chosen Devia. But here, on Earth… a new union is forming.
One between the Dream, the Storm, and the Sacrifice.
And oh... it's about to get legendary.
The hues from the Dream Stone pulse in quiet rhythm. It's like the heart of possibility beating in soft starlight. Henry stands at the center, his hands lightly crackling with electric aura laced with dreamy sparkles. Valitor and Jack sit on the bench nearby. Grandpa Kofi leans on his Avian-forged staff like a patient monk with deep eyes.
---
JACK (curious, leaning forward):
> "So... why you, man?
Out of everyone...
Why'd the Dream Stone pick you?"
---
HENRY (his voice calm, nostalgic):
> "It didn't pick me...
My need did.
The Stone doesn't respond to Identity like Avia...
It responds to longing.
To the ache beneath the mask.
To the spark of what should've been."
---
VALITOR (crossing his arms thoughtfully):
> "So not bloodline... but burden."
---
HENRY (nods):
> "Exactly.
My grandpa—he didn't get to be an Airien knight, but he dreamed of it.
Not for glory...
But to fix something.
To protect something.
Me."
He gently touches the side of his chest, over his heart.
> "So the Dream Stone didn't just come to me because I'm special.
It came because I was part of his... unfinished story.
That need, that hope... chained through blood, spirit, and memory.
I call it the Need Chain.
And I was the next link."
---
GRANDPA KOFI (chuckling):
> "You think the stone responds to ambition? Nah...
It responds to soul clarity.
And Henry... this boy didn't just see the stone as power.
He saw it as possibility.
Not a cheat code...
But a soul code."
---
VALITOR (smiling):
> "Beautifully said, elder."
---
HENRY (grinning slightly):
> "When I first touched it, it didn't explode with energy.
It... listened.
It whispered back.
It asked me:
'What hurts?'
And I told it... everything.
And instead of fixing it all—
It handed me a Dream Bolt."
---
JACK (eyebrows raised):
> "Dream Bolt? Sounds dope."
---
HENRY (nods, raising a hand as his lightning crackles into a surreal, shimmering spark):
> "Yup.
It's a condensed form of rewritten intent.
Brief. Not flashy. But when I need to shift something…
Time, logic, weight, distance, memory...
Even emotion...
Just a little...
It lets me.
Not because I command the world,
But because I understand why I need the change."
---
VALITOR (smirking):
> "That's what separates wielders from wasters.
You respect the stone.
That's why it respects you back."
---
GRANDPA KOFI (softly):
> "Plenty of folks get power.
But how many truly deserve what they're given?
The Stone... it saw his restraint.
And that's rarer than strength."
---
JACK (eyes wide, energized):
> "Yo...
So you're telling me you can tweak reality...
but only when it matters?
That's poetic.
It's not about 'I want this now'...
It's about 'This moment deserves more truth.'"
---
HENRY (smiles):
> "Exactly.
The Dream Stone doesn't dream for you.
It dreams with you.
And only when the soul speaks clear...
does it answer."
---
Silence falls for a moment. The kind of silence that feels sacred.
Then, Henry lifts the Dream Bolt in his hand. It glows faintly.
---
HENRY (quietly):
> "This isn't just my power.
It's grandpa's hope...
...and everyone who ever wanted to fix what they didn't break."
---
VALITOR (placing a hand on Henry's shoulder):
> "Then wield it well, Dreamer.
Because storms come and go...
But dreams that heal?
They stay."
---
Outside, the wind brushes against the windows, as if the world itself just nodded.
🔪IAN — GHANAIAN COMBAT ARENA
Thunderous applause echoes. Not the kind of stadium cheers you see in boxing—this was more raw, tribal, ceremonial. The Combat Arena of Ghana, surrounded by ancestral glyphs, a hybrid of culture and futuristic tech.
IAN, drenched in sweat, stands at the center—eyes sharpened like a storm held back.
He grips the Cleave of Ignition, its edges glowing, slicing through the potential of a strike before even swinging.
One move... the air behind the opponent splits.
Then he triggers the Slasnade, a slash-grenade—detonating dozens of phantom slashes across the arena.
Finally, he unleashes the Reaper of Regret, summoning blade-chains formed from the echoes of every strike he should've made.
They wrap, bite, sever—yet they don't kill... they redeem.
---
👊OSEI JERRY — AT HOME WITH DAD
A serene house in Accra.
Osei stands on the compound tiles barefooted.
His dad watches, smiling behind a worn wooden chair.
> "You've come far, Osei... You punch with the wisdom of yesterday."
Osei, eyes half-closed, exhales—
He punches the air. And the air answers.
The Precog Punches shimmer in three phases:
Past: strikes echo from behind.
Present: his current blow surges forward.
Future: a delay-punch hangs in air... then strikes before his opponent moves.
> OSEI: "It's not about hitting hard… it's about knowing when I've already hit."
His dad claps, holding back a tear.
The boy who hid his truth now wears it like armor.
---
💖SONIA — PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL MIRACLE
The nurses whisper, stepping back in awe.
Sonia, once branded unstable, now floats gently across the ward—hands glowing in colors: red, yellow, indigo, silver…
Her Emotional Spectrum Affinity tunes into the patients' wounds:
A woman sobbing? Joy spectrum lifts her spirit.
A man clawing at his skin in panic? Fear spectrum resets his nerves.
A child screaming? Love spectrum envelops her like a lullaby.
And when needed, she enters Emotional Overdrive—combining all emotions into a radiant cloak.
> SONIA (whispering): "You called me broken… turns out I was a mosaic."
---
🎨KENNEDY — IN HIS STUDIO
Dark room. One lamp.
Kennedy sits in lotus position, fingers flying across his custom-built tablet—shaped like an obsidian slab with golden syntax lines running across it.
Framework Manipulation pulses through his fingers like a conductor.
> SYNTAX SHIFT PROTOCOL:
Reality.If(Betrayal=True){Trust=Rebuilt;}
Scene.Overwhelm-->Simplicity();
He rewrites the atmosphere around him into serenity. His character Gilo stands behind him—alive, animated, his spiritual twin.
> "They stole my ideas... but I reclaimed my reality."
---
💻CHARLES — IN HIS ROOM
The Sigil Suit hums like a living circuit, hugging his body like a second skin.
He steps into the mirror.
> "Let's test this baby…"
🧩 CODELINE INITIATED:
💠 Resilience Protocol: Fear blocked.
🔹 Echo Sigil: Emotional feedback neutralized.
🔸 Pre-script Field: Foresight initiated.
⚙️ Golden Syntax: Split-second mental precision.
🧠 Codeflow Flex: Glyphs shift depending on moral compass.
He walks out the room. His fingers glow. Reality reads like an editable script.
> CHARLES: "I'm not hacking systems anymore... I'm rewriting meaning."
---
🧵YYVONE — IN THE STREETS OF GHANA
Up on the rooftops, she leaps gracefully like a weaver of light.
Below, chaos erupts—crashing cars, falling balconies, reckless fires.
She spreads her arms.
Threadrift Zone: INITIATED
Threads of destiny weave through space and time—reconstructing what was broken before it happened.
The cause of destruction collapses like a forgotten idea.
A child reaches up and says:
> "Are you an angel?"
Yyvone smiles softly.
> "No. Just someone who chose... herself."
---
⚡JACK & HENRY — TRAINING WITH VALITOR
Jack, drenched in sweat, dodges Valitor's strikes using Flash Instincts and Hollow Step.
Valitor teaches Swap Transposition, but Jack's struggling.
Just then, a ripple appears—Dream Stone portal opens.
Henry steps through with Grandpa Kofi, aura glowing in electric haze, dream fragments dancing around him.
> KOFI: "This world don't run on logic, son. It runs on dreams people forget they had."
Valitor chuckles.
> "Then we better start remembering."
Henry raises the Dream Bolt, merging lightning and intention.
> "Let's rewrite this crisis... one soul at a time."
---
Ian raising the Cleave.
Osei punching across timelines.
Sonia glowing in rainbow light.
Kennedy typing syntax into air.
Charles scanning the world in glyphs.
Yyvone hovering above threads of fate.
Jack clashing with Valitor under starlight.
Henry watching, Dream Bolt in hand
> When authenticity flickers...
When systems fail...
They remember what made them worthy...
Avia lives.
And it's not done yet.