"Cubes, veil!" Elara barked, her voice a whip-crack.
Frost Veil erupted from her Ikona, a chilling mist rolling out fast. It swallowed the pit, turning the gravel slick with ice, the torches dimming to faint blue glows. Ravel's vertebrae clacked louder, spinning wild in the haze.
"Think this'll stop me?" Ravel shouted, his voice hoarse through the mist.
He thrust a fist forward, Spinebite unleashing afg r storm of bones. Five vertebrae shot out, slicing through the fog—jagged, fast, aiming for Elara's chest and throat.
She didn't blink.
Permafrost Armor flared, ice snapping over her body in a jagged shell. The vertebrae slammed into her—crunch, crack—bones splintering against the armor, shards raining down. Blood flecked her cheek from a stray graze, but she didn't flinch.
Her fist clenched, knuckles whitening.
"Cubes, spears!" she growled, her breath a frozen plume.
