For the first time in centuries, something is different. Your tentacles tingle as you float to the east past icebergs and whirlwinds. You skirt a pocket of hot air, bounce through a field of ice, and finally come upon a massive stormcloud filling the sky to the east.
There it is. Glinting red below you and heading this way.
10th place (out of 53) in the 21st Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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