The city was buzzing with life as I made my way through the crowded streets, weaving between vendors, pedestrians, and the occasional street performer. The clouds overhead were the only sign that something wasn’t right, their unnatural swirls casting a dim, eerie light over the city.

I kept my communicator clutched tightly in one hand, Vale’s voice in my ear as she guided me to the predicted manifestation point.

“You’re getting close,” she said, her tone crisp.

“Got it,” I said, glancing around the narrow street.

The spot was an open plaza at the heart of the city, surrounded by small shops and cafes. People moved through the space, umbrellas in hand as the first few drops of rain began to fall. I kept my head down, trying not to draw attention to myself as I reached the center of the plaza.

“Are you in position?” Vale asked.

“Yeah,” I said, standing near a weathered fountain. “Any idea when it’s going to happen?”

“Soon,” she replied. “Stay alert.”

I pocketed the communicator, glancing up at the swirling clouds above. The tension in the air was palpable, a charged stillness that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light split the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. People in the plaza began rushing towards the nearest storm shelter.

“It’s happening,” Vale’s voice came through faintly.

I took a step back, craning my neck to see the epicenter of the storm. A glowing figure began to form, its outline shimmering as it descended rapidly toward the plaza.

And then I realized my mistake.

“Oh no,” I muttered, just as the entity came hurtling straight toward me.

I barely had time to react before something heavy slammed into me, knocking me flat on my back. The impact drove the breath from my lungs, and for a moment, all I could do was lie there, staring up at the swirling sky.

When I managed to prop myself up on my elbows, I saw her.

“Misty?” I said, my voice hoarse.

She was sitting on the ground a few feet away, her white hair falling in disarray around her pale face. Her sharp gray eyes widened slightly as she looked at me, and I saw a flicker of emotion in them—embarrassment.

Her hands moved in quick, awkward gestures, as if she were trying to apologize.

“It’s fine,” I said, coughing as I tried to sit up fully. “I should’ve moved out of the way.”

She tilted her head, her expression shifting to one of concern.

“I’m okay,” I said quickly, raising a hand. “Really.”

She stood slowly, her movements hesitant as she took a step toward me.

“Uh, so...” I started, rubbing the back of my neck. “About last time... I’m really sorry for what I said. It was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know.”

Misty blinked, then shook her head quickly. She raised her hands again, gesturing in a way that seemed to say I’m sorry, too.

She tilted her head again, her gray eyes searching mine. For a moment, the plaza around us seemed to fade away, the storm’s distant rumble the only sound.

“Are we good?” I asked, holding out a hand.

Misty hesitated, then reached out tentatively, her hand grasping mine.

It wasn’t much, but it felt like a start.

“So... this weather, huh?” I said, glancing up at the sky as Misty stood up. “Bit dramatic, but I guess that’s kind of your thing.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression as blank as ever.

“Not interesting? That’s fine,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “We can talk about something else. Or, well, I can talk. You can... stare at me like I’ve said something stupid. That works too.”

Her lips twitched faintly—was that almost a smile? Or maybe I was imagining things.

The communicator in my pocket crackled to life, cutting through the awkward tension. Vale’s voice was sharp and urgent.

“Ben, we’ve got a problem,” she said.

I pressed the button to respond, keeping my voice low. “What kind of problem?”

“The Agency’s on the move,” Vale said. “A squad is heading your way.”

My heart sank. “How much time do we have?”

“Not enough,” Vale replied. “You need to move. Now.”

I glanced at Misty, who was watching me with a curious tilt of her head. “Misty, listen,” I said, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “We need to go somewhere safe. There are people coming—dangerous people. Do you understand?”

Her gray eyes flicked toward the horizon, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me at all.

“Misty?” I prompted, my voice a little more urgent.

She blinked, then raised a hand.

“What are you—” I started, but the words were ripped from my mouth as the wind surged around us.

Before I could react, the ground disappeared beneath my feet, and I was lifted into the air. I let out a startled yelp, my stomach lurching as the wind carried me upward.

“Misty!” I shouted, the rush of air stealing the breath from my lungs. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer—of course she didn’t—but her grip on the wind was steady and precise, holding me aloft like I weighed nothing.

The city fell away below us, the rooftops shrinking as we soared higher. The wind whipped around me, cold and sharp, but Misty seemed completely unaffected. She glided through the air with an ease that was both impressive and unnerving, her white hair streaming behind her like a banner.

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching at the straps of my jacket as we banked sharply. “This is fine. Totally fine. Not terrifying at all.”

I risked a glance downward and immediately regretted it. The city was a distant blur now, the ocean stretching out in every direction like an endless expanse of blue-gray.

“Misty,” I called, trying to keep my voice steady. “Where are we going?”

She didn’t respond, but her focus remained fixed on the horizon.

The wind carried us further out over the water, the storm clouds swirling ominously above.

“Vale,” I said into the communicator, hoping the signal would hold. “We’re over the ocean. Misty... flew us here.”

“Flew you?” Vale repeated, her voice incredulous. “What do you mean, flew?”

“I mean she’s got wind powers, and we’re currently hovering several hundred feet above the ocean,” I said, my voice edging on panic.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Stay where you are,” Vale said finally. “I’ll track your signal and guide the airship to your location.”

“Sure,” I said, clutching at my jacket as Misty adjusted her course. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

Misty glanced back at me briefly, her expression unreadable. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure me or just checking to see if I’d passed out yet.

“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, though I doubted she could hear me over the roar of the wind.

Her gray eyes flicked to mine for a moment before she turned her attention back to the horizon.

For a moment, it was almost peaceful.

Then the communicator crackled to life, Vale’s voice cutting through the roar of the wind.

“Ben, you’ve got more company,” she said, her tone sharp.

“Still?” I asked.

“Agency airship,” Vale said. “They’re tracking the movement of the storm. They’ll be there in less than a minute.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered, glancing at Misty. “Vale, what am I supposed to do about that? We’re literally in the middle of the sky.”

“I’m on my way,” Vale said. “Just try to hold out until we get there.”

“Sure,” I said, gripping the straps of my jacket as the wind surged again. “No problem.”

The faint hum of engines reached my ears, growing louder with every passing second. I twisted in the air, craning my neck to see the approaching airship. It was sleeker and more compact than Vale’s, its dark hull gleaming ominously against the stormy sky.

“Misty,” I said, my voice urgent. “We’ve got more trouble.”

Her sharp gray eyes flicked to me, then to the approaching airship. For the first time, I saw a spark of something in her expression—recognition, maybe, or anger.

The Agency airship drew closer, its engines roaring as it positioned itself just a few hundred feet away. A hatch on its underside opened, and I caught a glimpse of figures in tactical gear preparing to deploy.

“Misty,” I said again, louder this time. “We need to move!”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she raised a hand, her white hair whipping around her face as the wind surged around us.

The first agent descended from the airship, suspended by a cable as they aimed a sleek, rifle-like weapon in our direction. Before they could get a shot off, Misty made her move.

The wind howled, twisting into a vortex that ripped the agent from the cable and sent them spinning into the open sky. The airship lurched as the vortex slammed into it, the force sending shockwaves through its hull.

“Misty!” I shouted, clutching at my jacket as the wind spiraled out of control.

She didn’t seem to hear me, her focus entirely on the airship. With a flick of her wrist, another gust of wind tore across the sky, striking the airship’s engines. Sparks erupted from the machinery, and the ship wobbled precariously, its sleek design suddenly looking a lot less intimidating.

The agents inside scrambled to stabilize the ship, their shouts barely audible over the storm Misty was conjuring. One of them managed to fire a shot—a bolt of energy that zipped through the air, narrowly missing us.

Misty’s gray eyes darkened, and the wind around us intensified, forming a barrier that deflected the next few shots with ease.

“Okay,” I muttered, gripping the straps of my jacket tighter. “That’s impressive. Terrifying, but impressive.”

With another gesture, Misty sent a blast of wind hurtling toward the airship’s engines, the force ripping one of the fins clean off. The ship veered sharply to the side, smoke billowing from its damaged hull.

“Misty, maybe don’t kill them?” I called, though I doubted she could hear me over the chaos.

Her only response was to raise both hands, the wind around us reaching a deafening crescendo. The airship’s remaining engines sputtered and died, and with a final groan of metal, the ship began to descend rapidly toward the ocean below.

“Misty!” I shouted again, panic lacing my voice.

She gestured again, moving the air to control the airship’s fall, making it gently drift down into the ocean. The agents inside would be shaken, but alive—assuming they had enough sense to get out before the ship sank.

The sudden silence was almost as shocking as the storm had been. I stared at Misty, my heart racing as she lowered her hands, her gray eyes flicking to me.

“Okay,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “Remind me never to get on your bad side again.”

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable, but there was a faint flicker of something in her gaze—satisfaction, maybe, or relief.

The communicator crackled again, Vale’s voice cutting through the quiet. “Ben, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice still unsteady. “The Agency airship... isn’t.”

“Good,” Vale said, her tone clipped. “We’re almost there. Hold tight.”

I glanced at Misty, who was already turning her attention back to the horizon.

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching her with a mix of awe and apprehension. “Holding tight.”

The airship loomed ahead, its sleek form cutting through the stormy skies as Misty carried us closer. The wind held me steady, but the thought of landing on something solid again was a relief I didn’t realize I needed.

When we reached the airship, Misty’s control over the wind softened, setting us down gently on the deck. The moment my feet touched the floor, I exhaled deeply, my legs shaky from the ride.

The hatch opened with a hiss, and Rio stormed out, her fiery hair a chaotic mess as she marched straight toward us.

“Ben!” she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through the lingering hum of the engines.

“Hey, Rio,” I said, managing a weak smile.

Her glare shifted to Misty, and her tone turned ice-cold. “You’re going to pay for what you did to Ben earlier.”

Misty flinched slightly, her expression unreadable but her posture stiffening.

“Rio, relax,” I said, stepping between them. “She helped me. She saved me from the Agency.”

“Oh, so now she’s a hero?” Rio snapped, crossing her arms. “Because last I checked, she’s the reason you’ve been limping around for days!”

Misty’s sharp gray eyes dropped to the deck, and a faint shimmer of sadness crossed her face. Her white hair fell forward slightly, hiding her expression as she fidgeted with her hands.

“Rio,” I said firmly, my voice softening. “Come on. She didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Didn’t mean to?” Rio repeated, her voice rising. “She threw you around like a ragdoll, Ben! And now we’re just supposed to forget about that because she’s all mopey now?”