Snow fell thickly, the air freezing with the bite of midwinter.
Mountains were stretched endlessly in every direction, their peaks hidden beneath heavy clouds. The cold wind howled like a feral beast as if mourning the carnage that was about to unfold.
Lelouch stood on the edge of a frozen cliff, his black cloak flapping in the wind, stark against the white expanse below him.
His eyes, a sharp, calculating violet, scanned the landscape with a practiced indifference.
Below him, the valley roared with life—not human life, but beasts that ruled this frozen wasteland.
Snow Titans.
Massive creatures made of ice and rock, towering over thirty feet, their bodies composed of dense, packed snow and imbued with magic cores that allowed them to regenerate endlessly.
Their white forms blended into the environment, but to Lelouch, they were nothing more than walking targets.
