The air didn't move.
The wind had died completely at the summit.
Snowflakes drifted, suspended in stillness, as if even gravity feared the thing that stood at the edge of the world.
I didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Just stared.
The being stood with its back to me, massive and silent.
Seven meters tall, at least. Its skin was a color I'd never seen—stone-white, faintly blue, like the core of a glacier. Hair long and pale as frost. Its shoulders heaved with the weight of a massive hammer that looked like it had been carved from the heart of the mountain.
It hadn't moved since I saw it.
But I felt it.
A pressure in the air. Like the mountain itself was waiting for something to break.
And then it turned.
Not fully. Just enough for one glowing eye to meet mine.
Blue light. Empty.
Not anger.
Not interest.
Not even hate.
Just… nothing.
I couldn't move.
Something primal inside me screamed to run. My stomach turned. My heart beat so hard it hurt.
My body knew what my mind couldn't accept.
This thing shouldn't exist.
It didn't belong in Midgard. It didn't belong anywhere I understood.
It was something else.
Something wrong.
And it had noticed me.
I forced a step backward, eyes locked on its massive form.
The hammer shifted slightly on its shoulder with a deep groan of ice.
I kept stepping back—slow, careful—like that would save me if it charged.
And then it vanished.
Not literally.
But it moved so fast it may as well have.
In the blink of an eye, it closed the distance between us.
Its shadow swallowed mine.
I dove to the side as the hammer came crashing down, slamming into the ground where I'd stood with a sound like a mountain collapsing. Ice exploded outward in a wave, slamming into my back and throwing me across the plateau.
I hit the snow hard. Rolled. Came up gasping.
The air was colder now. Somehow.
The creature turned toward me again. Slowly. Methodically.
I pulled a throwing knife from my belt and flung it at its chest without thinking.
The blade struck true—then bounced off like it had hit steel.
Didn't even scratch.
I threw another—aiming for the eye.
It tilted its head.
The knife grazed the cheek, harmless.
I didn't wait for its next move.
I ran—low and fast—ducking behind a jagged ice pillar. My mind was a blur of panic and instinct. I had no plan. No hope of victory.
This wasn't a trial.
This was execution.
The hammer shattered the pillar behind me before I even heard the wind-up. I dove through the explosion of frost and stone, rolled to my feet, and skidded across the ice.
It was playing with me.
I could feel it in the way it walked. Casual. Slow.
It wasn't trying to kill me yet.
It was waiting to see how long I'd last.
I gritted my teeth.
"Alright then…" I muttered.
Pulled my daggers free.
They thrummed in my hands, alive with a faint pulse.
"Let's make it hurt."
I sprinted forward, sliding low under a sweep of that massive weapon. Ice cracked beneath my feet as I launched upward, aiming for the giant's exposed flank.
My right dagger flashed out—metal meeting flesh with a sharp hiss.
The blade scraped the surface. Barely.
A shallow cut opened across its ribs.
And then closed again.
Regenerating?
I didn't have time to think.
It backhanded me with the head of the hammer—not even a full swing. Just a flick.
Pain exploded in my ribs as I flew backward, the wind knocked clean from my lungs.
I smashed into the ice, stars bursting across my vision.
I lay there, coughing, gasping.
Blood in my mouth.
My arms trembling.
The creature walked toward me—slowly. Ice crackling with each step.
I forced myself to my feet.
Every part of my body screamed.
One dagger was still in my hand. The other… gone.
Didn't matter.
I wasn't dying on my knees.
I charged again.
This time, it didn't dodge.
It raised the hammer high above its head—both hands gripping the shaft—and I knew.
This is it.
There was no dodging that.
Not in my condition.
Not in any condition.
The hammer came down like a falling star.
And the dagger in my hand moved.
It pulled itself from my grip and snapped into the air—its twin appearing beside it in a flash of blinding silver.
They twisted midair, locking together like interlocking jaws.
And then— they changed.
A pulse of raw Æther erupted outward as the daggers warped, reshaped themselves into a solid barrier—a shield, wide and tall, etched with patterns I didn't recognize.
It slammed into the ground in front of me.
Just in time.
The hammer collided with the shield in a roar that shattered stone.
The summit cracked beneath us.
A shockwave blew outward, splitting the plateau like fractured glass.
The shield held.
For one second.
Then it cracked.
Then shattered.
The blow didn't hit me full-force—but enough of it bled through to launch me into the air.
I felt my feet leave the ground.
Felt the pain tear through my ribs and back.
Felt my vision fade to gray.
And then—
I was falling.
⸻
The wind howled around me as I plummeted down the side of the mountain. The sky spun. Snow whipped past my face.
I couldn't scream.
Couldn't move.
The world had turned to a blur.
Blood poured from my mouth. My vision dimmed. I didn't know what was broken—ribs, arms, legs. Everything, maybe.
I didn't care.
I was dying.
A flash of memory—Rurik's face.
My mother's smile.
My father's stare.
Then darkness.
Then—
Voices.
Soft. Echoing.
Female.
Like song.
Like silk across cold water.
"Is it time already…?"
"Poor thing. Still handsome, though."
"Don't drop him. I won our bet."
Laughter. Gentle. Distant.
I felt arms—cold and warm at the same time—cradle me as everything turned blue and white.
Water.
I was sinking.
Not falling.
Sinking.
The voices faded as I slipped deeper.
Deeper.
The cold didn't hurt anymore.
Nothing did.
Just silence.
And dark.