Rain

The Skybound Castaway Rain was never supposed to open his eyes again. The last thing he remembered was the Entity of Death’s final blow—the screams of his comrades, the weight of his sister Seraph’s lifeless body beside him, and the world of Tierraextrema collapsing into oblivion. Death was absolute. There was no escaping it. Yet, when he awoke, the sky was gone, replaced by the crushing depths of an unfamiliar sea. Earth-616. A world not his own. The air was thick with tension, his limbs bound in chains of coral and vibranium. Beside him, Seraph lay unconscious, barely breathing. Around them, figures loomed in the shadows—the warriors of Talokan. To Namor, they were nothing but invaders. Strangers from a lost world, threats to his people. Unlike the myths of benevolent captives, there was no kindness in Talokan’s judgment. No welcome, no mercy—only survival. But Rain was not one to kneel. Even stripped of his wings, even lost in the abyss, the storm within him still raged. His power was weakened, but not broken. And if the Young RANGER were still out there—scattered, suffering, searching—he would find them. Because death failed once. It would not claim him again.