The Call of the Storm

The world of ATHOMIS lingered under the shadow of the shattered red moon, its scars still fresh across the devastated realms: Valthar, Celestara, Eldoria, Ironforge, Aquilon, and Necrosia. The smoking craters from lunar fragments scarred the land, while the cracked sky pulsed with unstable auroras, a constant reminder of the power that had defied the Corruptor. The heroes, scattered across their realms, led the reconstruction, but their hearts were shaken. The demons’ retreat was no final victory, and the fear of a new offensive loomed like a black cloud. A second invasion now would be catastrophic—walls were fragile, armies exhausted, and peoples on the brink of despair. Amid this chaos of thoughts, an idea grew: a meeting, an alliance among the heroes to face the darkness. But before they could act, a greater force summoned them.In Valthar, Kaelith, the Hero of Flames, oversaw smiths forging weapons in rebuilt forges, his scarlet armor cracked. He gazed at the sky, where lunar fragments still fell like embers, and thought: The demons retreated, but Iragor will return. A new offensive now would destroy us. We need to unite. His mind swirled with strategies, but doubt gnawed at him: Who shattered the moon? An ally or a greater threat?In Celestara, Zeryn, the Heroine of the Towers, restored runes on a cracked crystal tower, her silver robe glowing with arcane energy. The air carried Envyra’s lingering envy, and she murmured: If Envyra strikes again, we won’t hold alone. An alliance is our only chance… but with whom? The mystery of the shattered moon unsettled her, fearing the Corruptor was biding time.In Eldoria, Elara, the Heroine of the Forests, healed a clearing with her Scepter of Life, her hands glowing green. Withered trees began to sprout, but Slothar’s torpor lingered. She whispered to Sylune: “The demons could return any moment. We lack the strength for another war now. We need the other heroes.” Her mind was chaotic, torn between hope and fear: Who shattered the moon? How can we trust such power?In Ironforge, Thorne, the Hero of the Forges, hammered in a damaged forge, his black armor dusted with ash. Ghultar’s gluttony still echoed in the ruined mountains. He thought: A new attack now would be our end. We need to unite, but who leads? Who shattered the moon? The uncertainty made him grip his Hammer of the Eon tighter, bracing for worse.In Aquilon, Mira, the Heroine of the Waters, evoked waves to restore reefs, her blue scale armor gleaming. Avaron’s greed still stagnated the oceans. She said to Koryn: “If Avaron returns now, Aquilon will sink. We need an alliance.” Her mind questioned: Who shattered the moon? A savior or a greater danger?In Necrosia, Draven, the Hero of the Dead, sealed tombs with his Shadow Reaper, the cold air thick with Morgath’s sloth. He muttered: A new offensive now would annihilate us. We need the other heroes, but who is this power that broke the moon? His gray eyes searched the shattered sky for answers.As the heroes wrestled with their fears and planned a possible meeting, an invisible force cut the air like silent thunder. An arcane message, pulsing with unknown energy, reached them all at once, projected in their minds like a glitched interface: Emergency Summons. Immediate Meeting. Neutral Dimensional Chamber. Countdown: 10 minutes. An ethereal timer appeared, its red numbers ticking down: 9:59… 9:58…The heroes froze, their minds in turmoil. In Valthar, Kaelith frowned, gripping his Blade of Wrath. “A summons? Now? Who’s behind this?” In Celestara, Zeryn closed her Arcane Tome, whispering: “Is this the Corruptor’s work… or the one who shattered the moon?” In Eldoria, Elara clutched her Scepter of Life, alarmed: “A new summons? What’s happening?” In Ironforge, Thorne stopped his hammer, growling: “Is this a trap or a chance?” In Aquilon, Mira stared at the timer, her Trident of the Tide glowing: “Who summons us? We have no choice.” In Necrosia, Draven gritted his teeth: “Whoever it is, I’m ready… but for what?”In the Desolate Continent, at the Glitch Fortress, Athos watched the timer on his hacked interface, the Tear of Eryndor pulsing at his neck. His allies—Lirien, Sylvara, Thalyn, and Drakonath—surrounded him, equally perplexed. “An emergency summons?” Lirien asked, her Twilight Arrows ready. Sylvara frowned: “This isn’t ATHOMIS magic. It’s something bigger.” Drakonath roared: “A trap from the Corruptor!” Athos, however, laughed, a cynical smile crossing his face. “Finally, the GM showed up,” he said, his eyes glinting with digital codes. “Let’s see what the game master wants.”