The icy chamber was shrouded in an otherworldly frost, the air so cold that it seemed to slice through the skin like a blade. In the center of the chamber stood a man—tall and imposing, his figure almost regal. His pale blue skin shimmered faintly under the flickering blue light of torches along the walls. His eyes, a piercing, unnatural shade of blue, seemed to glow with a cold, malevolent intelligence. In his hand, he held a crown.
The crown itself appeared crudely made, as if nature had cobbled it together. The thin golden twigs that formed the circlet twisted in unnatural ways, but at its peak sat a blue diamond. Unlike the crown's rustic simplicity, the gem radiated with a haunting brilliance, casting sharp reflections of blue light across the icy floor.
The man's lips curled into a slow smile as he gazed at the crown. His breath, visible in the frozen air, came in slow, deliberate puffs. He muttered to himself, his voice soft yet laced with malice, "After all this time..."
He raised the crown over his head, his fingers trembling slightly—not with hesitation, but with a cold eagerness. As the crown settled on his head, the blue diamond flared, its light becoming almost blinding for a moment. The temperature in the room plummeted further as his skin shifted in color. No longer the pale blue of before, his complexion turned a lighter, almost ethereal shade of blue, as though he were becoming something beyond human.
Then, without warning, a sharp, manic laughter erupted from him, filling the chamber. It was a laughter devoid of warmth, devoid of sanity—a sound that echoed endlessly in the frozen halls.
"Fools," he muttered between bouts of laughter. "They thought they could stop me... I have become so much more than they could ever imagine."
Before him stood a group of beings made entirely of fire, their flames crackling angrily as they shifted and flickered, fighting against the biting cold. They hovered in place, their fiery forms illuminating the space around them, though their light was dimmed by the oppressive frost surrounding them.
"You… you traitor!" one of the fire beings roared, its voice like a hissing flame. "How dare you abandon your kin? You once burned with us, but now look at you—corrupted, twisted by the ice. You have forsaken everything!"
Another flame figure crackled and flared brighter, its fiery form shifting with rage. "We trusted you, and this is how you repay us? You think a crown made of ice will protect you from the flames of justice?"
The man's laughter stopped abruptly, his expression shifting into something darker—an unsettling calm. His bright blue eyes narrowed as he raised his hand. "You pathetic embers, still clinging to the hope that I care. I have transcended the fire. Ice... is eternal. Fire burns out. Ice endures." His voice was as cold as the surrounding air, each word sending ripples of frost through the room.
The fiery figures bristled at his words. "You will be destroyed! Just as you destroyed us!" the first fire figure growled, flickering with the intensity of its anger.
The man's smile widened again. "Destroyed?" he echoed, as if amused by the very idea. "No, you're wrong. I won't be destroyed. I will be the one who destroys."
With a swift, almost lazy gesture, the man lifted his hand higher. From the ground, the ice began to shift, cracking and groaning as it reformed into a massive, jagged block of pure frost. It hovered ominously in the air, shimmering with the blue light from the diamond on the crown.
"No!" one of the fire beings shouted, realizing what was about to happen. "You can't—"
But before they could react further, the man slammed his hand down, and the massive block of ice crashed into them with the force of an avalanche. Their fiery forms flickered violently, their flames snuffed out under the crushing weight of the ice. In mere moments, the room was silent once more, except for the faint, residual crackle of melting snow.
The man gazed at the spot where the fire beings had stood. His expression was blank, indifferent to their demise. Beside him, a small girl with pale skin and dark hair tugged on the hem of his robe. Her eyes, wide and glassy with unshed tears, stared up at him in a mixture of confusion and fear.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why did you kill them?"
He glanced down at her, his expression softening slightly, but only for a moment. "Because, child, they were weak. And in this world, the weak have no place. Only the strong will survive." He let out a small, unsettling chuckle and turned away, leaving the shattered remnants of fire behind him as he walked deeper into the icy palace.
---
Sergie jolted awake, gasping for breath. His heart raced in his chest, and sweat clung to his skin despite the coolness of his room. The dream—or was it a nightmare?—lingered in his mind, so vivid, so real. His body trembled slightly as he sat up, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to shake off the remnants of the vision.
"What… what was that?" he whispered to himself, the image of the man and the crown still seared into his thoughts.
He swung his legs out of bed and stood, careful not to wake Dante and Valenora. The quiet of the house felt strangely oppressive, as if the cold from his dream had seeped into the walls. Making his way to the kitchen, he grabbed a piece of stale bread, chewing it absentmindedly as he walked outside, the cool night air brushing against his skin.
Unconsciously, he began dropping crumbs behind him as he walked, his thoughts swirling with confusion. What did it mean? Was it just a nightmare, or something more?
His musings were interrupted by a faint rustling noise nearby. His heart skipped a beat, and he strained to listen. There it was again—rustling, like footsteps, but not quite human. The sound came from the shadows just beyond the edge of the trees.
Curiosity and fear mingled in his chest as he took a step closer. His breath caught in his throat as he saw two figures emerge from the darkness. Their forms were ghostly, made entirely of ice, their bodies shimmering in the moonlight. They had no faces, yet they moved with purpose, whispering to one another in voices like the crackle of ice breaking.
"…the Ice Emperor will be pleased," one of them said, its tone almost reverent.
"Yes," the other agreed. "He grows stronger by the day. Soon, the Blue Diamond will restore all of his power."
Sergie felt his blood run cold. The Ice Emperor. The name echoed in his mind, dredging up the vivid image from his dream. He had to get away.
Heart pounding, Sergie turned and ran. But his foot caught on a rock, and he stumbled forward, crashing into one of the ice beings. The creature's icy touch sent a jolt through his body, and it turned toward him, though it had no face to show emotion.
"A human?" it said, its voice tinged with surprise.
Before Sergie could move, cold, unyielding hands gripped his arms, holding him firmly in place.
"The Ice Emperor will be very interested in this one," the other creature said, its voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Bring him."
Sergie struggled, but the beings were too strong, their grip as unyielding as the ice itself. They dragged him through the dark forest, their icy forms blending almost seamlessly with the cold surroundings. The journey felt like an eternity, but eventually, the trees parted, revealing a massive, towering structure—an enormous palace, carved entirely from ice. It shimmered in the moonlight, its spires rising high into the night sky, casting long shadows across the snow.
"Where… where are you taking me?" Sergie managed to gasp, his voice barely more than a whisper.
One of the ice beings glanced at him, though it had no eyes to meet his. Its tone was polite, almost cordial, as it replied, "You are to meet the Father of Ice, the one and only Emperor Frost, also known as the Ice Emperor."
"The Ice Emperor…" Sergie repeated, his voice faltering. It couldn't be real. But his heart told him otherwise. The dream, the beings, the palace—it was all too connected.
"Yes," the ice creature continued, its tone unwavering. "The Arcane of Ice. The Wielder of the Blue Diamond."
They entered the grand palace, the walls lined with frozen portraits and statues, all depicting the same man. The man from Sergie's nightmare. The same piercing blue eyes, the same crown with its radiant blue diamond.
Sergie was barely aware of his surroundings as they led him deeper into the palace, his mind reeling with disbelief. They passed through vast halls of shimmering ice until finally, they arrived at the throne room.
There, seated upon an icy throne, was the man himself—the Ice Emperor. His pale blue skin glowed faintly in the dim light, his eyes cold and calculating. The crown atop his head glinted as if alive, the blue diamond pulsing faintly with power.
Before Sergie could react, the emperor vanished from the throne and reappeared directly in front of him, his presence overwhelming. The man's gaze pierced through him, as though he could see into Sergie's very soul.
"You…" the Ice Emperor said softly, his voice a chilling whisper. His lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile.