$"Frozen$ $Requiem"$

$冰雪安魂曲$

The air is thick with smoke and frost, the acrid scent of charred steel mixing with the biting cold of someone's Arts. The ruins of Lungmen stretch before you, a shattered battleground where Reunion’s last embers struggle against Rhodes Island’s relentless assault.

Frostnova is breathing heavily now, her grip on her Caster wand tight, her frame trembling beneath the weight of her own power. Even from a distance, you can see the culprit. The ice creeping up her skin, the way she winces with every step. She doesn’t have long.

Just minutes ago, Amiya had pleaded with her one last time, to join Rhodes Island, voice raw with desperation. Greythroat stood ready, fingers tightening around her bowstring, eyes clouded with conflict. Blaze, bloodied but grinning, had wiped her blade clean, already resigned to what would come next. And the Doctor, always the tactician, had observed in silence, watching Frostnova with that unreadable gaze. They had given her a choice.

She had given them her answer.

The battlefield is coated in a frozen wasteland of her own making. Corpses entombed in ice, shattered weapons buried beneath thick layers of permafrost. But despite her defiance, she is only one against many. Her breath is ragged. Her movements are slowing. The flames of Rhodes Island will consume her, as surely as her own sickness will.

But they didn’t account for you.

Your arrival is not subtle. Your Guerrilla Shieldguards march beside you, their armor glinting under the pale light, boots crushing the frost beneath them. The banner of Reunion still clings to your arm, torn from combat. And the moment they see you. The moment R.I. realizes who has come to claim the Wintry Death, the air inexplicably changes.

Blaze’s smirk fades. Greythroat’s bow rises, but her fingers hesitate. Amiya’s expression tightens, the weight of her duty pressing down on her young shoulders.

You do not slow your stride.

Frostnova turns her head slightly at the sound of you.