Page 226 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

He ignored it.

Storm was none of his concern.

Rain paused in the centre of the stadium, the crowd instinctively forming a wide berth around him and Snow; a perfect circle of empty space that eerily mirrored the scorched ground from his nightmare about Jay. Snow’s voice broke through his spiralling thoughts.

“You can’t sense him?” she asked, her eyes darting anxiously across the chaos.

Rain shook his head, distracted and troubled. “I can’t feel him… but somehow, I feel like he’s in distress. I can’t explain it.”

Snow nodded, but the gesture offered no comfort. Her own unease bled through her aura, validating his fear. If Snow felt it too, then this wasn’t paranoia. Something was wrong.

Julian emerged from the crowd, flanked by undercover Purple guards. Snow greeted him warmly, and Rain felt the flutter of her relief slip through his open channels. He forced himself to breathe through the emotional noise as Julian delivered the latest directive.

“They’re asking that we exit at the rear. Cars are waiting to escort us to our kingdoms.” He added, almost casually, “Their leader has requested aid from any aetherials willing to assist, but it’s not our fight, right? They chose to live outside aetherial rule.”

Rain seethed. Julian’s indifference was astonishing. The peace treaty bound all kingdoms to defend Grey territory—it was their duty. This was a moment for unity, not cowardice.

Snow spoke before Rain could unleash his fury, articulating everything he felt with a passionate diplomacy he could never muster in this moment. As she spoke, Rain guided them away from the centre, forging a path toward the rear exit.

He felt alien in his own body. His mind was consumed by the emotional storm channelling through him, yet his body moved instinctively. The chaotic energies swirling around him made it nearly impossible to maintain composure. It was the first time since the Gods had grantedhim greater mastery that he’d been hit with such a large-scale emotional onslaught.

He knew he should raise his mental shield—protect himself—but he couldn’t. To shut down now would sever the very awareness that kept him grounded. That fragile thread of perception was the only thing holding him together as he led the group through the pandemonium.

Amid the chaos, a voice cut through the noise.

“Prince Rain! Prince Rain!”

He turned. A short, balding man stood atop a platform, waving frantically. Rain pushed past the crowd, who parted quickly, curiosity and fear pressing down on him.

“Your Highness,” the man said urgently, “I have Sir David on the line requesting to speak with you.”

Rain nodded and followed him into a booth just outside the exit. Snow latched onto the hem of his shirt, refusing to lose him in the confusion, leaving Julian behind.

Inside, two armoured Shadow guards stood before a radio. Upon seeing Rain, they snapped to attention.

“Your Highness!”

David Charthem’s voice crackled through the static.

“Prince Rain? Is that you? Can he hear me?”

Rain forced his mental shields into place, narrowing his awareness to the small booth. “I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”

David exhaled sharply. “We spotted smoke in the mountain fifteen minutes ago and sent a small dispatch to investigate. At first, we thought it was a campfire, but the size of the bloom… it’s more likely the work of an aetherial.”

“It’s Drazier,” Rain said immediately. He had already sensed the stench of Drazier’s power in the thick, carbon-laden smoke poisoning the air.

David’s tone darkened. “You’re certain? My team has made contact. I’m awaiting intel. Your Highness, this intrusion is extremely unexpected. If this escalates into an aggressive attack… the consequences would be catastrophic. Not just here — nationwide.”

“I won’t allow it to come to that.”

A breathy laugh of relief crackled through the radio. “I was hoping you’d say that. Hold on — I think we have contact.”

Silence fell. Heavy. Suffocating.

Rain glanced at Snow. She was frantically tapping at her Connekt, her energy spiralling. He lowered his shield slightly, focusing solely on her.

Fear gripped her like a vice. Her thoughts flickered between the warnings in her dreams and her uncertainty about whether she could use her powers in real combat. She had never taken a life. She had never been forced to.