The rain hadn’t stopped for seven days. Not the gentle kind that whispers against rooftops—but a torrential downpour that roared like a beast. Streets turned to rivers. The River Styx, once a quiet boundary between realms, had burst its banks and swallowed half the Spirit District. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. Recca Yukimura, 16, stood at the edge of the flooded shrine, soaked to the bone, clutching his grandfather’s scroll. He was supposed to be training—learning the ancient arts of shadow movement and elemental channeling. But this? This was beyond training. This was chaos. "Did it look anything like this?" he whispered, staring at the storm clouds swirling unnaturally above. His voice trembled—not from fear, but from recognition. He’d seen this in the scrolls. The blue spiral.