The ground trembled violently, sending shockwaves through the forest. Trees shuddered, their leaves rustling like panicked whispers in the night.
Then, the stampede came.
Kraggors burst through the undergrowth first, their hulking, ape-like bodies plowing through smaller trees as if they were twigs. Their massive fists slammed into the earth, sending dirt and leaves flying with every desperate leap forward. Hellhounds followed close behind, their molten eyes wide—not with rage, but something far worse. Fear.
And then—pandemonium.
Shrieking Razorwings dived through the trees, some colliding midair, their serrated wings slashing at each other in blind panic. Others weren't fast enough; they crashed into thick branches, bones crunching, their limp bodies plummeting into the madness below.
Mirefangs slithered across the forest floor, their usually perfect camouflage flickering erratically as their instincts overrode any need for stealth. A few unlucky ones were crushed beneath the stampede—trampled into the dirt by massive Kraggor fists or gored by panicked hellhound claws.
Above them, the trees groaned as Shardstalkers—spindly creatures with razor-sharp, crystalline limbs—skittered from branch to branch. Some lost their footing in the chaos, their jagged bodies smashing through the canopy before impaling themselves on the roots below.
And in the middle of all this—the eye of the storm—were Kibo, Syl, and Lily.
They weren't standing still. They couldn't be.
Kibo grabbed Syl's wrist and leaped onto a thick, gnarled branch just as a Kraggor's fist slammed into the spot they had been standing a moment ago. The impact sent a shockwave through the earth, splitting the ground open in jagged cracks.
Lily moved on instinct, flipping onto a higher branch with unnatural grace, her hair flowed behind her. Below, a Razorwing carcass struck the trunk beside her, embedding itself deep into the wood before falling limply to the forest floor.
Syl barely had time to catch her breath before something—someone—yanked her back. A hellhound, missing an eye and half its snout, had leaped in desperation, its claws barely grazing her ankle before Kibo pulled her out of reach.
The beasts weren't attacking them.
They didn't care about them.
They were just trying to escape.
A Kraggor smashed into another mid-sprint, the force sending both crashing into a massive tree trunk. The ancient wood groaned, splintering from the impact, before finally giving way. The tree collapsed sideways, bringing down a dozen others with it in a chain reaction of snapping branches and deafening crashes.
Kibo barely had time to react before the falling debris sent a Razorwing careening toward him, its limp, broken body slamming into his shoulder. He grunted, his grip tightening on the branch to keep from being knocked off.
"This is bad, this is really bad. What must they be running away from?" Syl breathed, her voice tight.
Lily, crouched a few branches above them, nodded. "They're not stopping…"
Kibo's heart pounded. This wasn't just a few beasts running. This was everything—every creature in the area—fleeing something even worse.
His gut twisted.
"What the hell could be scaring them this badly?"
He didn't have to wait for the answer.
Ignis's laughter slithered into Kibo's mind—low, dark, and dripping with cruel amusement.
Brat, why feign ignorance? You already know.
The shadows in his mind twisted. His voice sank lower, nearly a whisper, yet it echoed through Kibo's bones like a death knell.
Your sadistic aunt is here.
A chill—one that had nothing to do with the air—seized Kibo's chest. His breath hitched, sharp and ragged.
His body moved before he could think.
"Lily—move!" His voice cut through the chaos as he moved Syl, slinging her toward a thicker branch above. She gasped, barely catching herself in time. "Both of you, run!"
Lily didn't hesitate. She shot forward, leaping ahead with practiced ease, while Syl scrambled to regain her balance. Kibo kicked off his branch, darting after them.
But it was too late.
A Kraggor, mid-bound, let out a guttural roar—only for its massive chest to suddenly burst open as jagged ice spears tore through it from below. The beast didn't even have time to understand what had happened before its body froze solid, a deathly white sheen crawling over its flesh.
A hellhound yelped in agony as a frozen spike shot through its skull, its molten eyes dimming in an instant. More beasts collapsed mid-sprint, their desperate howls cutting off into eerie silence as their bodies crystallized, locking in place like grotesque ice sculptures.
The air turned sharp. Wrong.
Kibo's breath hitched as he ran across the branches, his boots barely making a sound. He scanned the forest below, his pulse hammering against his ribs. Where? His stomach twisted. Where is she?
Syl moved fast ahead of him, her silhouette flickering between the leaves. But then—
A glimmer of blue.
From below, multiple chains of ice shot upward, twisting through the air like hungry serpents. Syl's body reacted instantly. She flipped backward, barely evading one as it lashed toward her throat. Another coiled for her waist—she twisted mid-air, her dual blades flashing as she cleaved through it before landing on a thick branch.
But they kept coming.
She ducked under a swinging chain, parried another, her blades slicing through the frost with precision. Two more snapped toward her legs. She leapt—too late.
One of them caught her ankle.
Her eyes widened as the cold shot through her body. The chain yanked her downward with brutal force, her balance breaking. She tried to drive one of her dual blades into the tree beside her to stop her fall—crack. The section of wood she latched onto snapped clean off, unable to hold her weight.
She plunged, her back slamming into the earth.
Lily gasped but didn't hesitate. She moved with sharp efficiency, her dagger flashing as she cut at the chains nearest to her. One coiled toward her neck—she tilted just in time, flipping her dagger to slash through it mid-dodge. Another came from below. She jumped off the branch, spinning to avoid it.
For a moment, it seemed like she would escape.
But the ice anticipated her.
A chain curled upward like a striking viper, latching onto her leg in mid-air. Before she could react, it jerked her down. She crashed farther away from Syl, her body barely making a sound against the cold dirt.
Then came Kibo's turn.
A storm of ice erupted toward him, far more than what had been sent at the others. Dozens of chains lashed toward his limbs, twisting and snapping like they were alive.
Kibo lunged, dodging one, stepping onto another—only for it to shift beneath his weight, throwing him off. Another whipped toward his ribs. He bent backward, barely evading the jagged frost.
Then—shhk!
Spikes burst from the chains themselves.
Kibo's foot barely left the surface in time, the sharp ice missing him by an inch. He twisted his body mid-air, cutting through two more chains that lunged for his chest. Another one wrapped around his wrist—he snarled, jerking away before it could tighten.
More kept coming. Relentless.
Then—a chain shot straight for his heart.
His blade was already moving before he could think. Metal met ice in a violent crack, shards bursting into the air like splinters. The chain recoiled—but the force of his swing threw him off balance. His foot slipped, and he crashed onto a lower branch, knees bending to absorb the impact.
Then—everything stopped.
The remaining beasts—those that had yet to be swallowed by the ice—froze. Not in magic. Not in ice.
In fear.
A slow, rhythmic crunch of footsteps pressed against the silence.
Kibo's breath came in sharp bursts, the cold pressing against his skin like a suffocating hand. His katana trembled in his grip, frost creeping along the blade's edge. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to move—run, hide, fight, do something—but his instincts whispered a far harsher truth.
It wouldn't matter.
A shadow shifted beyond the frost-riddled trees. The air thickened, turning heavy, suffocating. The ground beneath him, the very earth itself, felt like it was contracting under an unseen force. Even the wind had gone silent.
Then—she stepped into view.
Aunt Sora.
She walked with an unhurried grace, the frost spiraling outward from her footsteps, devouring the world in slow, creeping hunger. She was draped in her usual uniform, the fabric untouched by the chaos around her. Her glasses caught the pale moonlight, hiding the eyes beneath. But Kibo didn't need to see them. He felt them.
A slow chill seeped into his chest, far deeper than the physical cold.
Syl lay sprawled several meters away, one knee digging into the frozen dirt, her dual blades clenched tight—but unmoving. Her breaths came slow, controlled, but her body was rigid. Lily, caught further back, had managed to prop herself up on one arm, her dagger clutched weakly in her grasp. Neither of them spoke.
None of them could.
Sora wasn't in a rush. She didn't need to be.
The ice crept closer, veins of frost slithering through the earth, swallowing everything in its path. The last remnants of warmth in the air vanished. Kibo exhaled, and his breath turned to mist—so thick it felt like it was being stolen from his lungs.
Then, she smiled. Slow. Amused.
"So… this is where you are."
The words didn't echo. They sank.
Kibo's fingers curled tighter around his katana, but the weight of it felt small. Weak. His mind raced, calculating—Can I move? Can I run? Can I—
Then Ignis spoke.
Ohh, brat… His voice slithered into Kibo's mind, dark and edged with something almost hungry. You ever see a cat play with a dying mouse?
Kibo's pulse hammered.
Guess which one you are.