When silence held breath too long, Tonans broke it. He was not born. He arrived — a roar that cracked the stillness, a flash that burned truth into sky. Where others flowed, he struck. Where balance hesitated, he commanded. Tonans was the will of sound made divine, the voice that echoed before words. Not rage, but reckoning. Not chaos, but clarity. His fury was not wrath, but reminder: even gods must listen. And when the fracture came, he did not fade. He answered.