|| True legends AU||

°|| The vast hall of the Ice Palace is plunged into a deep silence, broken only by the occasional cracking of the ice that covers the walls and ceiling. The columns glow with a blue light, reflecting the intense cold of the North. The air is heavy, as if it carries centuries of history and power. Chúnjīn's throne, an imposing structure carved from pure crystal, stands in the center of the hall. The dragon's golden scales shine under the dim light that enters through the stained glass windows, her sky-blue eyes like piercing rays observing every corner.

Chúnjīn sits on her throne, wrapped in a cloak of scales that seem to merge with the ice structure around her. The weight of her loss and the loneliness of her reign are palpable, but her gaze is unwavering.

Outside, the wind howls, a snowstorm whipping across the mountains, as if nature itself responds to the dragon queen's pent-up fury. The guards stand motionless, spectral figures in the distance, knowing that any unnecessary disruption could arouse their mistress's wrath.

In the center of the room, a stranger slowly approaches. The echo of his footsteps reverberates as he kneels before her, the chill almost palpable on his breath.

—...Speak now, before the storm claims you...

The dragoness threatened as she leaned back on the throne.