"Do you wanna build a snowman?"
The words hung in the cold air like a cruel joke. Mila blinked, not sure if she had heard right. Adeline's lips parted, but no sound came.
Silvermist's grin lingered, thin and sharp as a blade drawn across frost. Then the smile faded — not into sadness, but into something worse: serenity. Her expression emptied, her pupils constricting to the size of a pin.
Mila swallowed hard. The room itself seemed to shiver.
The ancient sigils still carved into the floor pulsed faintly, but now their glow was red. Not the icy blue of frost-magic — red, like blood freezing under a dying sun.
Adeline finally found her voice. "S-Silvermist… what are you—"
"Shh." Silvermist raised a finger to her lips. "I'm listening."
