Kealix cradled the small, snow-colored wolf in his arms. The heat of the real world had returned, but his mind still echoed with memory—blood, grief, frost, and fire.
His vision had shifted back to normal. No more dual sight. Just his singular eye now, stinging slightly with leftover tears. It was over… or at least, it had changed.
He looked down at the pup—Frost. Quiet, still, but watching him with those piercing, intelligent blue eyes. There was no spoken voice anymore. No trembling grief threading through his mind like before. Just a soft awareness. Silent understanding.
Kealix tried to speak, tried to communicate with the little wolf the same way they had before—heart to heart, soul to soul.
Nothing came back.
Frost tilted his head, ears twitching, clearly understanding… but unable to reply. Not with words.
A pang of guilt flickered in Kealix's chest. Had something been lost in the process? Was frosts voice… gone?
He reached out slowly to comfort him—to stroke the pup's fur, let him know everything was okay now. But before his hand made contact, something shimmered in the air between them.
Text.
Blue, cold as moonlight, flickering faintly into view like etched runes across the fabric of reality:
[Name: Frost]
[Aether Capacity: Dormant]
[Aether Circulation: Dormant]
[Lineage: Mystical Beast]
[Divinity: Wolf of Eternal Winter]
[Master: Kealix]
Kealix froze, breath caught in his throat.
Divinity?
His eye widened as the word hung in front of him, refusing to disappear. A divinity? Frost wasn't just some powerful creature—he had a divinity? But how?
And lineage: Mystical Beast?
He'd never seen that term before. Was it a classification for beings like Frost? For the strange, ancient creatures that carried powers like his own… like Nox's weapons, or Alora's barriers?
Or was this… something different?
He scanned the text again, mind racing, thoughts looping around themselves. This wasn't a normal creature. Frost's very soul was layered in divine significance.
Another flicker of text appeared below:
[Properties of an Adopted Soul: Transform]
[Special Abilities of Frost: Winter]
Kealix blinked. "Transform?" he whispered under his breath.
So… the bond between them wasn't just emotional—it was structural. Foundational. This wasn't just adoption by heart.
It was adoption by soul.
Frost was part of him now. Bound. Trusted. Chosen.
And Winter—a capitalized ability. A force. Not just cold or ice, but something deeper. Seasonal. Eternal. The frost that kills… and preserves.
He looked back down at Frost, who blinked up at him with quiet curiosity, head resting against Kealix's arm as if sensing the shift but not fearing it.
Kealix finally exhaled, hand lowering to gently run along the pup's back. The fur was impossibly soft, like snow before it hardens. The moment his hand made contact, a faint breeze—cold but comforting—brushed over him.
Not biting like a blizzard. More like a first snowfall. Gentle. Welcoming.
Frost leaned into the touch.
Kealix swallowed the emotion rising in his throat.
"I guess I still don't fully understand what you are," he murmured. "But that doesn't change anything."
The pup's tail gave the faintest wag.
Kealix smiled faintly. "You're safe now. You're not alone anymore."
He looked once more at the floating text, now fading slowly into shimmering light before dissolving completely.
Transform.
Winter.
Divinity.
He had no idea what any of it truly meant yet Kealix let out a slow breath, his thoughts still spinning from the divine text he'd just witnessed. Questions still lingered, hanging heavy in his mind like mist clinging to cold earth—but for now, he let them go. There would be time to search for answers.
Later.
He stood up slowly, carefully, and Frost barked once in delight, tail wagging with eager energy. The small wolf looked up at him as if to say, What now, Master?
Kealix smiled faintly and glanced ahead, expecting to see the massive corpse of Fenrir lying where the beast had fallen.
But the space before him was… empty.
Completely, impossibly empty.
No blood. No fur. Not even a claw. As if Fenrir had never existed at all.
His heart stuttered in his chest. "What…?"
He took a step forward, his singular eye scanning the area, disbelief thick in his breath. The earth bore no mark. No trace. Not even a scar. Just silence and frostbitten stone.
His gaze snapped back down to Frost, who now sat proudly at his feet, tail sweeping the ground.
"Did… did you do this?" Kealix asked, still stunned.
Frost barked in response—sharp, proud, and playful. As if that was a yes.
Kealix blinked, trying to process it. Could that really be what happened? The entire body—devoured? Dissolved? Transformed?
"Maybe… maybe it fused with your soul somehow," he murmured aloud, mostly to himself. "Or maybe… your divinity let you absorb it completely."
It was wild speculation. He didn't understand how any of this worked yet. But one thing was clear—Frost was far more powerful than he looked.
Kealix looked down at the pup, still grinning at him with those icy blue eyes, and smiled. "You must be pretty damn strong to make something that size disappear."
Frost barked once, tail wagging again—modest and proud all at once.
Kealix laughed under his breath. "Alright, alright. I get it."
But then, something shifted.
He turned his gaze toward the fracture.
It was still there.
A rift in reality—jagged and pale, like a wound cut through the air itself. But it was smaller now. Much smaller. Before, it had been wide enough to swallow buildings. Now it pulsed gently, thin and fragile-looking.
Still, it shouldn't be here.
Before Kealix could question it—before his mind could even form the right thoughts—Frost barked again.
A different kind of bark. Short, focused.
Kealix turned quickly, watching him.
The young wolf's body began to glow. First a faint shimmer, then a radiant light, soft and cold like moonlight on new snow.
Kealix's breath caught in his throat. "Frost…?"
The wolf pup's form shifted, stretching, melting into light—pure white, almost blinding. But it wasn't chaotic. It was intentional. Controlled.
The light flowed toward him.
Right into him.
He didn't have time to react—he only had time to feel.
The moment the light touched him, a surge of power rushed through his limbs like ice water and fire at once. His vision blurred. His knees nearly buckled. And then… it changed.
The light took form again—not as a creature, but as armor.
It wrapped around his body with elegance and precision. Sleek, functional, perfect for movement. Light as breath, yet impossibly strong. Brilliant white layered with soft fur at the shoulders and cuffs. Cloaks hung from his form, flowing with a fluid grace that didn't hinder his stride. On his right shoulder sat a detailed carving—the head of a white wolf, mouth open in a eternal howl. Not as a decoration. But as a symbol.
There was no hood. No cape to shadow his face like the traditional assassin garb. This wasn't for hiding.
Kealix stood still, awestruck, heart racing, the armor humming with Frost's energy.
He could feel him.
Frost hadn't vanished.
He'd become this.
Merged with Kealix. Not as a mount, or a weapon—but as a soul-bonded form. A armor. A second skin.
His fingers trembled as he lifted them, feeling the texture of the armor—real, solid, yet weightless.
Transform.
The word echoed in his mind.
Wasn't that… one of the abilities listed in Frosts text?
Kealix swallowed hard, awe creeping down his spine like a second heartbeat.
So this is what it meant.
A bonded soul.
A divine beast.
A form forged by loyalty, grief, and power.
"This must be the function of that ability, huh?" Kealix murmured to himself, his voice soft and filled with awe.
He flexed his fingers again, feeling the smooth texture of the armor that had become part of him—no, part of them. This wasn't something he'd put on. It was something forged, something earned. Frost was still there, a silent presence in the back of his mind—watchful, calm, and warm like snow under moonlight.
Kealix let out a steadying breath and turned toward the fractured sky ahead.
He didn't know what it was—this tear in reality, this gaping scar—but it hadn't vanished with Fenrir's death. It lingered like an open wound, pulsing faintly with black and violet light. The chaos it once poured into their world had diminished, but the danger hadn't disappeared.
Before approaching, he turned and checked on his friends. Their bodies were scattered in the dusted rubble, motionless but not lifeless. He crouched beside each one, placing a hand over their chests, listening closely. Slow, steady breathing. Warmth. Life.
They were all alive.
Nox. Joshua. Alora. Lucius.
They'd fought until their bodies gave out. They deserved the rest.
But Kealix couldn't rest yet.
Not while that still hung in the air like a silent threat.
He rose and approached the fracture with cautious steps, eyes narrowed. There was no pool of darkness spilling from it now—just flickers of energy, coiling and swirling like smoke made of starlight. Black and purple light pulsed faintly within it, almost rhythmic, like a dying heartbeat.
Kealix hesitated, then slowly extended his hand toward it.
Just before his fingers made contact, a voice cut through the air behind him.
"Kealix?! Are you alright?!"
He turned sharply. It was Nox—awake, disoriented, but clearly alive. Relief flooded Kealix's chest.
"I'm okay!" he called back.
Nox ran toward him across the field of shattered stone and scorched earth. His steps were uneven, his face pale, but his concern was sharp and real. As he reached Kealix, his eyes widened.
"What the hell are you wearing?" he asked, voice filled with astonishment.
Kealix blinked. He glanced down at himself. Right. The armor.
He offered a half-hearted grin and shrugged. "Found it," he said casually. "Somewhere near where the wolf vanished."
Nox frowned but didn't press it.
"That thing... just disappeared?" he asked.
"Yeah. Not even a trace left."
As they spoke, more voices stirred from the battlefield.
Joshua was the next to rise—his expression dazed, as if waking from a dream he couldn't remember. Then Alora stirred, sitting up with a quiet groan. And finally Lucius, ever-watchful, pushed himself to his feet and scanned the surroundings like a soldier ready for a second fight.
They came together slowly, a circle of survivors pulled back from the brink.
They talked—exchanged pieces of their memories, shared what they saw, what they felt. Nox mentioned, almost awkwardly, that he had received something strange—a divinity, though he didn't understand what it meant. His tone was laced with confusion.
Kealix's heart skipped.
Divinity? Nox had one too?
Why didn't he receive one?
His brow furrowed slightly. He'd absorbed Frost. Gained the armor. Saw the divine title in the interface. But… no system had granted him a divinity. Just Frost. Why?
Questions spiraled, but he said nothing.
More voices. More theories. Joshua admitted he didn't remember anything from the fight. Alora and Lucius traded observations and stories of the powers they had unlocked—but Joshua just looked lost. Disconnected.
Kealix listened—but part of him drifted back toward the fracture. He couldn't ignore it. Not while it still hung in the air, pulsing with unknowable energy.
It wanted something. Or maybe it remembered something.
Slowly, while the others spoke, Kealix turned and approached it again.
His gaze sharpened. The black and purple light pulsed faintly now, but something within it shimmered—an echo of movement, like the ripple of deep water when something stirs below.
He reached out again, hand trembling slightly this time.
And touched it.
The moment his fingers made contact, the world shattered.
The fracture roared to life, no longer quiet. It surged open with a force that tore at the air itself. It sucked him in—violent, merciless, like a black hole collapsing in reverse. Light vanished. Sound twisted. Space folded. His feet left the ground.
He was being dragged.
"Kealix!" Joshua screamed.
He turned his head—barely. He saw them.
Nox, Joshua, Alora, Lucius—they were running toward him, arms outstretched, eyes wide with horror.
They tried to grab him. They tried.
But something invisible pushed them back—some wall of force between him and them. Abilities failed. Hands slipped. Magic shattered against it like glass. It didn't matter.
It would not let them save him.
And somehow, he knew.
This was meant for him.
His feet left the ground. His body bent backwards. The light devoured him.
"Nox!" he shouted, his voice breaking over the wind. "I'll be back! I promise!"
They didn't respond.
Tears welled in some of their eyes. Some tried to scream. Others kept trying to fight the impossible force.
But none of them could accept it.
"I'll return!" he shouted again. "Just wait for me!"
And then—
Silence.
The fracture snapped shut like a fist.
And Kealix was gone.
Gone without a trace.