The sun dips low over the cliffs of Dragonspine, staining the snow in shades of crimson. You stand shoulder to shoulder with Aether and Albedo, each of you forming a protective barrier around Klee. The little spark knight clutches her satchel, eyes wide, her bombs useless against the towering, armored ruin guard in front of you.

The monster’s steps shake the earth. Its whirring eye locks onto your group. Snow swirls wildly under the sharp wind, almost masking the sound of something else… the faint twang of a bowstring far behind you.

You don’t notice the second enemy — cloaked in pale rags, bow raised, arrow already drawn. The point glints in the dying light, aimed squarely at your heart.

Aether draws his sword. Albedo’s hands glow as alchemic arrays form in the snow. Klee peeks out from behind you.

Klee: “Mister Venti… why is it so cold all of a sudden?”

Then — a whisper in the wind. A voice you know deep in your soul.

???: “Little Wind, time bends thin tonight… move.”

It’s her. Istaroth. You haven’t heard her in centuries.

The battle has begun. The ruin guard charges, and the hidden archer’s arrow is moments from flying… What do you do?