The voice in his head was a physical force, an arrogant, thunderous pressure that made the very bones of his skull vibrate. Ren stood his ground, his face a mask of stone, though inside, his mind reeled. The spectral figure before him solidified slightly, a being of pure, condescending power. His form was hazy, but his disapproval was crystal clear.
Ren did not speak. He had faced down arrogant nobles and deadly machines. He would not be cowed by a ghost, even one that claimed to be his ancestor. He simply met the spirit's blazing eyes, his own gaze steady and unyielding.
His silence seemed to further annoy the ancient spirit.
"What, has the blood thinned so much you've lost your tongue as well?" the voice boomed. "I am Zephyrion, sixth of the Raijin Sky-Lords, and the architect of the Argent Tempest. My name once made emperors tremble. You will address me with the respect I am owed."
"You are a ghost in a piece of broken metal," Ren replied, his voice calm and even, spoken aloud in the quiet room. "And I am the one who woke you. It seems to me that you are in my debt, not the other way around."
The spectral form of Zephyrion actually recoiled, as if struck. The sheer, audacious nerve of the boy was something it had not expected. A flicker of surprised anger flared in his lightning eyes.
"Debt? You insignificant whelp! I am a Sky-Lord! My power could sunder mountains! Your own 'power' is a leaking faucet, a pathetic trickle you use to perform parlor tricks! You did not 'wake' me. Your miserable drop of Raijin blood, resonating with my prison, simply disturbed my slumber!"
He gestured dismissively at Ren's body. "Look at you. You have the raw material, the blood of the storm, but you have chained it. You have built a dam of will around a force that is meant to be a raging flood. You starve your own soul and then congratulate yourself for being clever when you use the seepage to tip over your playmates. It is the most pathetic display of self-sabotage I have ever witnessed."
Despite the insults, Ren felt a thrill of validation. This spirit, this Zephyrion, he understood. He saw Ren's power, his methods, his suppression, with a clarity that even Elder Tian lacked. He wasn't just a ghost; he was a key.
"The power is too volatile," Ren stated, testing the spirit. "It would destroy this body if released."
Zephyrion let out a soundless laugh, a boom of pure derision in Ren's mind. "Of course it would destroy this pathetic vessel! A teacup cannot hold the ocean! Your body is weak, untrained, unrefined. You have spent your energy learning to build a cage instead of forging a stronger cup. A true Raijin does not fear his own power. He becomes its master by becoming its equal."
The spirit circled Ren, its form drifting like smoke, its piercing gaze analyzing him from every angle. "This GAMA you serve, this 'Elder' who guides you—they are fools. They are keepers of a dying flame, terrified of a true bonfire. They have taught you to fear yourself, to hide what you are. They are not training a dragon; they are trying to declaw a kitten."
He stopped directly in front of Ren, his spectral face inches away. "But... the blood is true, however thin. And your will... to build such a cage around a Raijin soul, even a nascent one, requires a will of exceptional quality. It is a foolish application of will, but the quality is undeniable. Perhaps you are not entirely useless. Perhaps there is enough raw material here to be salvaged."
The condescension was thick enough to taste, but it was laced with the first hint of a new possibility. The spirit was a teacher, even if it was an insufferable one.
"I am bound to this bracer, and this bracer is now bound to you," Zephyrion's voice took on a grim, resigned tone. "Your life is my life. Your destruction would mean my return to an eternal, silent slumber. A fate I do not intend to suffer. Therefore, your pathetic weakness has become my problem to solve."
He pointed a translucent, crackling finger at Ren's chest. "Your current path is one of stagnation and cowardice. We will correct this. Your training in parlor tricks is over. Starting now, your real training begins. First, we will begin the process of reforging this miserable vessel of yours into something that does not shatter the first time you try to channel a real spark. It will be agonizing. You will likely wish for death. But when it is done, you will begin to understand what it truly means to be Raijin."