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The blizzard I'd summoned raged through the street, hindering the Nightmares' advance. The wind howled between buildings, snow piling on the ground, turning the road into a frozen battleground. My golems, hidden in the shadows, awaited my signal to strike.
But before I could act, a shiver raced down my spine.
The air around me thickened with a familiar presence. A shadow stretched ahead, slithering from the heart of the storm as if feeding on the cold. Two golden eyes ignited in the darkness, and a figure cloaked in shadows materialized slowly.
Pitch Black.
He stood there, unshaken, a calculating smile playing on his thin lips. His piercing gaze swept over the tempest before settling on me.
"Impressive."
I tightened my grip on my staff, ready to fight.
"You're not impressed, Pitch."
He let out a low chuckle, a mocking sound that cut through the storm.
"Correct. It's not *you* I find impressive… but what you're becoming."
I narrowed my eyes, wary.
"And what am I *supposed* to become, according to you?"
Pitch took a few steps across the snow, leaving no footprints. His shadow stretched beneath him, intertwining with the black mist seeping around us.
"You know as well as I do that you're not the real Jack Frost."
I gritted my teeth, but he continued, his voice softening, almost persuasive.
"You're different from him. You lack his history, his past. He fought to be accepted, to become a Guardian. He needed others to defeat me. But you?"
He stopped in front of me, his golden eyes drilling into mine.
"You're alone."
A heavy silence fell between us. Even the wind's whispers seemed to fade, as if the universe itself awaited my reply.
My fingers tightened around my staff. He was right about one thing. I wasn't the same Jack Frost from the legends. This world had no Guardians—no Santa, no Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy to fight beside me.
I *was* alone.
Pitch must have seen the flicker of hesitation in my gaze, because his smile widened.
"But you don't have to be."
He slowly spread his arms, as if inviting me to see beyond what I thought I knew.
"You have immense power. You could wield it for good. Don't tell me you've never felt this world's injustice, its imbalance. Fear isn't your enemy, Jack. It can be a tool, a weapon… a way to unite this world under a new order."
I squinted. "*Your* order, you mean?"
He chuckled softly, but there was a unsettling sincerity in his tone.
"Why not *ours*?"
The air seemed to freeze around us.
"Together, we could shape this world as we see fit. No need to live in others' shadows, no need to be a Guardian. Be my ally, Jack. And I promise… you'll never be alone again."
Silence stretched.
Then I laughed.
A genuine, mocking laugh. Pitch arched an eyebrow, caught off guard.
I shook my head and met his gaze, a smirk tugging at my lips.
"You underestimate this world far too much, Pitch."
I spun my staff in my hand before resting it against my shoulder.
"You think just because the Guardians aren't here, I'm alone? You really believe they're the only force opposing you?"
I shrugged casually.
"Let me tell you something. I might not be the Jack Frost you remember. But let me correct you on one thing—" I twirled my staff before hoisting it. "—it doesn't mean I'm weaker. In fact…" My grin sharpened. "I've got far more potential. My powers are different. *Unique*."
Pitch raised an eyebrow, then shrugged dismissively. "No matter. Your pretty words change nothing." He lifted a hand, and the shadows around us writhed violently. "My Nightmares don't need to understand to destroy you."
With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed his horde. Nightmare horses charged, neighing into the night, flanked by ghostly, slithering forms—all surging toward me.
But before they could reach me, the snow beneath them erupted.
The hidden golems burst forth, their massive fists slicing through the air to crush the Nightmares in a single blow. Shadows were hurled backward, some disintegrating on impact, others thrashing as ice encased them. The effect was instant chaos.
Pitch staggered back, his golden eyes widening.
"What…?!" His gaze darted from the golems to me. "The Jack Frost I knew couldn't create *living* creatures!"
I flashed him a tired smirk, breathless from the effort. "Oh, you're not the only one who can build an army, Pitch."
He clenched his jaw, frustration twisting his features. His arrogance had made him overconfident, and now he faced something he hadn't anticipated.
The wind roared around us, snow swirling in perfect chaos. My golems struck, repelled, destroyed—keeping the Nightmares from reaching Liam and Melinda's house.
Pitch balled his fists, glaring at me with lethal focus. "You have no idea what you're up against, Jack."
I raised my staff and pointed it at him. "Maybe. But you don't know who *you're* dealing with either."
Pitch blinked slowly. His smile vanished, replaced by a colder, calculated stare.
"Is that so?"
A wave of darkness rose behind him, churning like a living storm.
"Then prove it."
Without warning, he hurled a tidal wave of Nightmares at me.
I gripped my staff, a reckless grin spreading.
"With pleasure."
The shadows crashed down, and the battle began.