Lightning Bro

Nonetheless, I was extremely glad when no thunder followed the strike, though I was performing the ritual as far from Ziz's mountain as possible. Instead, the bolt gathered, congealing into a final figure. The only way to describe him was 'bright.' His flesh, his clothes, his hair—the entirety of his form was colored as if someone had trapped Lightning in a human form. Which, I suppose, I had. White cloth, white skin, white hair, white eyes, he seemed solid but only momentarily, shifting slightly between blinks of an eye. At times, he would flicker, momentarily facing another direction before facing me. I couldn't make out precisely what he was wearing, because it seemed to shift, merging with his body for an instant before tearing itself away in bizarre, twisting shapes.