The transition from the lush training grounds of the L-Clan to the Northern Frostlands was not a journey; it was an assault on the senses. As the transport ship's doors hissed open, the brothers were greeted by a wall of white death.
The Frost Lands were a place where the air itself felt like shattered glass.
"Calculation complete," Lam muttered, tapping his gauntlet. The screen flickered with blue light. "External temperature: -65 degrees Celsius. Urza-conductivity in the air: 12%. The blizzard isn't just snow—it's frozen mana. It's draining our passive shields."
"I don't care about the cold," Asadullah growled, his golden lightning flickering weakly against the oppressive frost. "I want to know where the anomaly is. My blood is freezing."
Red King stepped off the ramp, his red cloak snapping violently in the wind. He didn't seem to feel the cold at all. "The anomaly is five kilometers North. The Black Ice Temple. It's an ancient ruin that was buried during the Velociraptor Disaster. Something inside has woken up, and it's calling for its lunch."
The trek was a nightmare. Every step was a battle against waist-deep snow and "Frost-Wraiths"—minor Urza-ghosts that dissolved into mist whenever Krodh tried to smash them.
"They're intangible!" Krodh roared, his fist passing through a wraith. "I can't destroy what I can't touch!"
"Move aside," Bayu commanded. He raised his hands, manipulating the freezing winds. Instead of blowing them away, he compressed the air into localized "Pressure Blades" made of metal-dust. The wraiths were shredded by the physical debris trapped in the wind. "In the North, the wind is my weapon. Don't fight the cold—use it."
Finally, the blizzard parted.
Standing before them was the Black Ice Temple. It was a jagged, obsidian-like structure that looked more like a claw reaching out of the earth than a building. The entrance was a gaping maw of darkness.
"Wait," Draz whispered, his eyes glowing white. "The Urza here... it's not flowing. It's circling. Like a whirlpool."
Lam scanned the gates. "He's right. The temple is acting as a massive vacuum. If we go in there, our long-range communication is dead. We'll be on our own."
"Good," Red King smirked, crossing his arms. "I was getting tired of the radio chatter anyway. Team 5, weapons hot."
THE INTERIOR:
Inside, the silence was louder than the blizzard. The walls were lined with frozen statues of warriors from ten years ago—their faces twisted in permanent agony.
As they reached the central hall, they found it. A pedestal made of bone-white ice. Resting on it was a Black Scroll, humming with a frequency that made Lam's gauntlet scream in digital pain.
[WARNING: UNKNOWN DATA DETECTED]
[SOURCE: PRE-DISASTER ERA]
"The mission objective," Lam said, reaching out. "The Black Scroll."
But before his fingers could touch the parchment, the floor groaned. The "statues" around the room began to crack. The ice fell away, revealing not humans, but Sentinels of the Void—headless armored giants with four arms, each holding a blade made of frozen blood.
"Red King?" Asadullah asked, drawing his lightning.
"Don't look at me," Red King replied, stepping back into the shadows. "This is your mission. Don't die on the first floor."
CLIFFHANGER:
The Sentinels charged. As Lam dodged a blade that shattered the stone pillar behind him, his gauntlet finally cracked the code on the pedestal. A holographic message projected into the air, written in the ancient language of the FROST LANDS, but with a signature at the bottom that made Lam's heart stop.
The signature read: "Property of the 6th Lion."
Lam froze. "The 6th...? We only have five."
ON THE OTHER HAND THE 5ARMED GUY WAS IN FRONT OF ICERIAN KING.