Tenethos

https://www.deviantart.com/cumalee/art/Tenethos-Open-for-Adoption-1161466456

Tenethos, the Abyss Gale Pokémon

Long before written history, before mortals carved their stories into stone, the skies belonged to the abyss. It was said that when the world was still young, before light had fully claimed the heavens, a storm unlike any other howled through the endless void. It was not a mere tempest of wind and rain, nor a passing shadow on the land. It was Tenethos, a being so vast and unknowable that its wings alone were said to stretch beyond sight, swallowing the sky in a churning mass of blackened winds.

Legends speak of entire civilizations that vanished beneath its storms, their voices lost in the howling void. When Tenethos stirred, day would dissolve into a formless, endless night. The winds would rise in a deafening crescendo, suffocating the land beneath an ocean of swirling darkness. The only light came from distant flashes of lightning, illuminating its jagged silhouette for mere heartbeats before vanishing once more into oblivion. No one could predict where the storm would appear next. It followed no pattern, no reason, no allegiance. It did not destroy out of malice, nor did it seek conquest. It was simply the storm itself—eternal, unrelenting, and indifferent to the world below.

Some ancient cultures revered it as a deity, offering prayers to appease its wrath. Others feared it as an omen of inevitable ruin, believing its arrival heralded the end of an era. Many refused to believe it existed at all, dismissing it as myth, a phantom conjured by fearful minds. Yet the ruins of once-great cities, buried beneath layers of stone and time, whisper the truth: Tenethos does not need belief to exist. It has always been, and it will always return.

Even in stillness, it is never truly at rest. The winds around it never settle, twisting and shifting like a living thing, as though the very air fears to remain motionless in its presence. When it moves, its jagged wings carve through the sky like a stormfront given form, a living abyss that turns the world beneath it into an expanse of shadow. It does not need to fly to command the air—its presence alone bends the atmosphere to its will, shaping the tempests that rage around it. And though it does not seek battle, those who stand in its way will find themselves consumed, swept away in the ever-hungry gales of the abyss.

The few who have seen Tenethos and lived to tell the tale speak not of malice or rage, but of something far more terrifying—apathy. It does not acknowledge those beneath it, does not act out of cruelty or hatred. It is as impassive as the winds themselves, existing beyond the concerns of lesser beings. To challenge it is to stand before the storm itself, to face the vast and uncaring abyss.

Some say that Tenethos is not a creature at all, but the embodiment of the primeval storm, a force that predates the world itself. Others whisper that it is waiting, watching, patient as the tides, until the time comes for the abyss to reclaim the skies once more. Whatever the truth may be, one thing is certain—when the winds begin to howl and the sky fades to black, Tenethos has returned. And when it comes, there is no shelter, no refuge, only the endless, all-consuming gale of the abyss.