Internal Monologue Of A Frost Giant, Approximately Three Minutes Before Everything Went Wrong
I am Kjorvaan the Eternal. I have walked this earth for nine thousand years. I have frozen seven seas. I have buried four mountain ranges under glaciers that still bear my name. I have killed things that did not have names yet and felt nothing about it.
I stepped through the Gate into this city.
The buildings are tall. The roads are flat. The small creatures in their metal boxes screamed and ran and that was satisfying in the traditional way.
Several of the ones in colored armor came. They called themselves Hunters. They hit me with fire and lightning and things that were supposed to hurt.
They were not very good at it.
One of them said something about a Holy Sword. I don't know what that is. It sounds made up.
I am nine thousand years old. I have frozen entire civilizations. I am currently standing on a road in a place called Gangnam and everything is going exactly as expected.
There is a man walking toward me.
He is not running.
He is not in colored armor.
He is wearing a blue uniform and carrying a bag and looking at the ground with the expression of someone who has found something personally offensive about the pavement.
He has no aura.
His mana signature is—
I checked.
It's Weak
He is an weak human in a cleaning uniform walking toward me.
I am nine thousand years old.
I have frozen seven seas.
Why am I uncomfortable.
Why am I VERY uncomfortable.
He just looked up.
He looked at me the way someone looks at a very large inconvenient piece of furniture that someone else left in the middle of the room.
I have never been looked at like furniture before.
I don't know what to do with this.
I am nine thousand years old—
The situation in Gangnam was, by any reasonable metric, a catastrophe.
Kjorvaan the Eternal stood forty feet tall in the middle of Teheran-ro, which was one of the most expensive streets in Seoul and was not having a good afternoon. Ice spread from his feet in every direction. Three cars were already frozen solid. A bus was half-embedded in a glacier that had not existed twenty minutes ago. Frost crept up the sides of buildings at a pace that suggested it had somewhere to be.
S-Rank Hunter Jang Min-Seo — who had Re-Awakened twice and had the brand deals to prove it — was crouched behind an overturned police vehicle pressing his hand against a wound in his side and reconsidering several life decisions simultaneously.
"Status," he said.
"Bad," said his teammate Yoo Ara, who was technically an A-Rank but was currently operating at the level of someone who would very much like to be somewhere else.
"Define bad."
"Ji-Hoon is frozen from the waist down. Seok is frozen from the shoulders up. Park tried the Thunder Lance and it—"
"I saw what happened to Park."
"Right."
"Where's the Holy Sword team."
"Forty minutes out."
"Forty—" Min-Seo looked at the Frost Giant, who was currently picking up a frozen bus and examining it with the mild curiosity of someone who has found an interesting rock. "We don't have forty minutes."
"I know."
"The Holy Sword team needs to be here."
"I know."
"Call them again."
"I've called them six times."
"Call them a seventh time Ara."
Ara called them a seventh time.
Min-Seo pressed harder on his wound and looked at the Frost Giant and thought about his brand deals and whether any of them specifically covered death by Frost Giant and concluded that none of them did.
He had Re-Awakened twice.
He had fought things that defied classification.
He had faced a Gate so large it blocked out the sun over Incheon and walked out the other side with footage that had forty million views.
He had never felt this cold.
"SMALL CREATURES," said Kjorvaan the Eternal, in a voice that came from somewhere below the concept of temperature. "YOUR RESISTANCE AMUSES ME. IT IS LIKE WATCHING INSECTS ARGUE WITH WINTER."
"Inspiring," said Ara flatly.
"I HAVE FROZEN SEVEN SEAS."
"We've heard."
"I WILL ADD THIS CITY TO MY COLLECTION. IT WILL MAKE A FINE GLACIER."
"Great," said Min-Seo. "Wonderful. Fantastic." He looked at his wound. "Ara I need you to—"
"There's someone walking toward it," said Ara.
"What."
"There." She pointed.
Min-Seo looked.
A young man in a blue janitor uniform was walking down the middle of Teheran-ro toward the Frost Giant with his hands in his pockets and the expression of someone who has been called in on his day off and has not yet decided how he feels about it.
Behind him, floating at exactly shoulder height, was a small black creature with glowing red eyes that appeared to be trying very hard to look like it was not concerned.
It was not succeeding.
"Who is that," said Min-Seo.
"I don't know."
"Why is he walking toward it."
"I don't know."
"Does he not see the Frost Giant."
"He's looking right at it."
"Does he not see the FORTY FOOT FROST GIANT."
"Min-Seo he is walking directly toward the forty foot Frost Giant at a pace that suggests mild inconvenience."
They watched in silence.
The small black creature on his shoulder leaned toward his ear.
"Master," said Moru, in the tone of someone choosing words with extreme care. "That is a Frost Giant."
"I can see that," said Han-Ho.
"Kjorvaan the Eternal specifically. Nine thousand years old. He froze the Caspian Sea once on a Tuesday because he was bored."
"He's dripping on my road."
Moru looked at the road. Looked at the enormous spreading glacier consuming an entire city block. Looked at Han-Ho.
"Master that is significantly more than dripping."
"I cleaned this road two days ago."
"I understand but—"
"I cleaned this road TWO DAYS AGO Moru."
"Yes and it was very clean I remember you mentioning it—"
"Look at it."
Moru looked at it.
The road was, objectively, not clean.
"It's quite bad," Moru admitted.
"It's a disaster."
"WHO APPROACHES," said Kjorvaan the Eternal, looking down at the small human who had walked to within thirty feet of him and stopped to crouch down and examine the ice on the pavement with an expression of deep personal offense.
Han-Ho stood up.
Looked up.
Way up.
"I AM KJORVAAN THE ETERNAL. I HAVE WALKED THIS—"
"You're on my road," said Han-Ho.
The Frost Giant stopped.
"...What."
"My road. I cleaned it two days ago." Han-Ho pointed at the glacier spreading from Kjorvaan's feet in every direction. "Do you see this. Do you see what you've done to it."
"I AM IN THE PROCESS OF DESTROYING THIS CITY—"
"You're in the process of destroying my clean road."
"THE CITY. I SAID THE CITY."
"The road is part of the city."
"YES BUT—"
"My road specifically. I did this section on Tuesday. Tuesday Moru." Han-Ho turned to look at Moru with an expression of genuine anguish. "I did this section on Tuesday."
"I know Master," said Moru solemnly.
"Four hours. Four hours on this section alone."
"It was very thorough work."
"The ice giant residue is going to set into the concrete."
"It does have a tendency to—"
"I AM NINE THOUSAND YEARS OLD," said Kjorvaan, with the tone of someone who feels the conversation has gotten away from them. "I HAVE FROZEN SEVEN SEAS. I AM AN ETERNAL FORCE OF—"
"Sir," said Han-Ho.
The Frost Giant stopped again.
Nobody had ever called him sir before. Not in nine thousand years. Not once. It was such a completely unexpected syllable that it short-circuited approximately six hundred years of prepared threatening speeches.
"Sir," said Han-Ho again, patiently, in the tone of someone explaining something to a person who should already know better. "I understand you have things to do. Seas to freeze. Cities to destroy. I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to tell you that you are standing on a road that I personally cleaned two days ago and the ice you are generating is going to cause approximately forty hours of remediation work for me personally and I would like you to move to a different street."
The Frost Giant stared at him.
"You want me to," he said slowly, "move to a different street."
"The one two blocks north hasn't been done yet. Knock yourself out."
"I am destroying this CITY—"
"You can destroy it from a different street."
"THAT'S NOT HOW DESTROYING A CITY WORKS—"
"Sure it is. You pick a street. You destroy from there. The city still gets destroyed. My road doesn't." Han-Ho looked at him with complete sincerity. "Everyone wins."
Behind the overturned police vehicle, Jang Min-Seo and Yoo Ara watched this exchange in complete silence.
"Is he," said Ara.
"Yes," said Min-Seo.
"Is he negotiating with the Frost Giant about which street to destroy."
"Yes he is."
"And the Frost Giant is—"
"Considering it. The Frost Giant is considering it."
They looked at each other.
"Who is this person," said Ara.
"I genuinely don't know," said Min-Seo, who had Re-Awakened twice and had never in either Awakening been given any information that would explain what he was currently watching.
Kjorvaan the Eternal had been alive for nine thousand years.
In that time he had developed a very clear sense of how his interactions with smaller creatures were supposed to go.
They screamed. They ran. They occasionally fought back with varying degrees of effectiveness. They said dramatic things. He said dramatic things back. Someone got frozen. The glacier spread. The civilization fell. Everybody understood their role and played it appropriately.
This human was not playing his role.
This human was standing in front of a nine thousand year old Frost Giant who had frozen seven seas and was suggesting he relocate two blocks north as though he were a moderately inconvenient construction project.
And the deeply alarming thing —
The part that Kjorvaan could not explain and would not be able to explain for the rest of his significantly shortened existence —
Was that some ancient, deep, nine thousand year old instinct was saying:
Consider it.
Seriously consider it.
There is something wrong with this human.
There is nothing detectably wrong with this human. His mana is the lowest. He is carrying a work bag. He is accompanied by a creature the size of a large fruit that is eating something and seems to be enjoying it and watching this conversation with an expression of profound emotional investment.
There is nothing wrong with this human.
Every nine thousand year old instinct I have is screaming.
WHY IS IT SCREAMING.
"You," said Kjorvaan slowly. "Are not afraid of me."
"I'm annoyed at you," said Han-Ho. "That's different."
"I have frozen SEVEN—"
"Seas. Yes. You've mentioned the seas." Han-Ho looked up at him with the patient expression of someone in a customer service role who has heard this particular complaint before. "Sir. The seas are not my department. This road is my department. Can we please focus."
On his shoulder Moru leaned forward.
"Master," he said very quietly.
"What."
"He's about to attack you."
Han-Ho looked at Kjorvaan.
Kjorvaan was indeed raising one enormous fist, ice crackling along his arm, nine thousand years of glacial fury condensing into a single strike that had previously ended at least four separate civilizations.
Han-Ho looked at the fist.
Looked at the road.
Looked at the fist again.
"If you hit this road," said Han-Ho, "I am charging you for the full remediation. Labor and materials."
"WHAT," said Kjorvaan.
"My hourly rate. Plus materials. Plus the three days I already spent on this section. You can't afford it."
"I AM AN ETERNAL FORCE OF—"
"You're an eternal force of making my job harder. Do you have any idea what ice giant residue does to concrete on a molecular level?"
"I—"
"It bonds. It actually chemically bonds. Regular solution doesn't touch it. I need the industrial grade. Do you know how much the industrial grade costs?"
"I don't—"
"A lot," said Han-Ho. "It costs a lot. And you're going to pay for it."
The fist stayed raised.
The ice kept crackling.
Nine thousand years of glacial fury hovered in the air above Han-Ho's head.
Han-Ho reached into his work bag.
Moru watched this with the expression of someone who has seen what is in the work bag do things to things considerably more powerful than a nine thousand year old Frost Giant and is feeling complicated emotions about it.
"Master," said Moru.
"It's fine."
"Master I really think—"
"He's dripping on my road Moru."
"I understand but perhaps we could—"
"Look at it."
Moru looked at the road. The ice. The spreading glacier. The forty hours of remediation work currently crystallizing into the concrete of a section Han-Ho had spent four hours on Thursday.
"...It is very bad," Moru said.
"It's unacceptable."
"It is quite unacceptable," Moru agreed.
Han-Ho pressed his hand flat against the nearest section of ice.
What happened next took six seconds.
Later, the Hunters who witnessed it would spend a very long time trying to describe it in their official reports and produce something coherent. They mostly failed. The official Hunter Registry report on the Gangnam Frost Giant Incident reads, in its entirety:
"Threat was neutralized by an F-Rank Mana-Janitor. Method of neutralization unclear. Giant is no longer giant. Please see attached incident report. Please note that two members of the responding team have requested leave following this incident. Please also note that the F-Rank Mana-Janitor in question left the scene before we could get his registration number. We have his first name. It's Han-Ho. We think."
Ms. Yoon at the Hunter Registry read this report at her desk.
She looked at it for a very long time.
She added it to the file she had been building for four years.
The file that started with a status window error.
The file that had been getting thicker every month.
She drank her coffee very slowly.
What Han-Ho noticed was that the ice was stubborn.
Not impossibly stubborn. Not even particularly stubborn by his standards. He had done worse. The mana stain in the Hongdae Gate incident of three years ago had been worse. The crystallized demon blood in the Itaewon parking garage had been worse. The thing in the Busan subway that he still didn't have a name for had definitely been worse.
This was just ice.
Giant ice. Ancient ice. Nine thousand year old glacially infused ice with the mana signature of an eternal force of nature compressed into concrete on a Seoul road on a Thursday afternoon.
But still just ice.
He cleaned it.
The way he always cleaned things. Focused. Methodical. Section by section, the way you clean a large stain — start from the outside, work inward, don't spread it further.
He didn't notice the ice retreating up Kjorvaan's legs.
He didn't notice Kjorvaan making a sound that nine thousand years of existence had never once produced before — a sound somewhere between confusion and the specific panic of something that is being cleaned and does not know how to feel about it.
He didn't notice the Hunters slowly standing up from behind their cover and watching with their mouths open.
He didn't notice Moru on his shoulder vibrating with barely contained emotion.
He noticed the road getting cleaner.
That was the important thing.
"WAIT," said Kjorvaan, from somewhere above him, in a voice that had lost approximately forty percent of its eternal quality in the last four seconds. "WAIT WHAT IS—"
"Almost done," said Han-Ho.
"MY ICE. MY ANCIENT—"
"There's a stubborn bit near the foundation."
"THAT IS MY—"
"Hold still."
"I AM NINE THOUSAND—"
"I know. Hold still."
The glacier retreated.
The ice released the frozen bus. The frozen cars. The half-glaciated buildings. All of it, retreating back toward the source the way Han-Ho's cleaning always worked — pulling the stain back, compressing it, removing it from the surface it had no business being on.
Kjorvaan the Eternal, nine thousand years old, Freezer of Seven Seas, began to shrink.
Not dramatically. Not explosively. Just steadily, the way ice melts in reverse — the outer layers going first, the ancient power compressing inward, the eternal cold retreating to its source as Han-Ho cleaned section by section with the focused patience of a professional who has a lot of road left to do today and would like to finish before dark.
"This is," said Kjorvaan, from somewhere around six feet tall now, in a voice that sounded genuinely bewildered, "not how I expected this to go."
"Nobody move," said Han-Ho, without looking up. "I need to get the section under where he was standing. It's the worst."
Nobody moved.
Jang Min-Seo, S-Rank Hunter, Re-Awakened twice, forty million views, stood completely still and watched an F-Rank Mana-Janitor clean a Frost Giant off a Seoul road and felt something he had not felt since his first day as a Hunter.
Small.
Very small.
"Ara," he said, very quietly.
"Yes."
"What is his rank."
"F."
"And his skill."
"Stain Removal."
A long pause.
"I Re-Awakened twice," said Min-Seo.
"I know."
"Twice, Ara."
"Min-Seo—"
"I destroyed a mountain."
"I know you did."
"I have forty million views."
"Min-Seo."
"He just cleaned a Frost Giant."
"I know."
"With his hand."
"I know."
"He's annoyed about the road."
"I know, Min-Seo."
Min-Seo watched Han-Ho stand up, examine the road with the critical eye of a professional assessing his own work, crouch down again to address one final stubborn patch near the gutter, and then stand up again with the satisfied expression of a job properly completed.
Where Kjorvaan the Eternal had stood there was now a very small, very confused, very clean former Frost Giant approximately the size of a small moru, sitting on the pavement and looking at his hands with an expression Han-Ho recognized.
He had seen it before.
On a different creature. In a different alley.
This Morning.
"Oh no," said Moru.
Han-Ho looked at the small former Frost Giant.
The small former Frost Giant looked at Han-Ho.
"I," it said, in a very small voice, "appear to be smaller than expected."
"Yeah," said Han-Ho. "That happens."
The small former Frost Giant looked at its hands. Then at the clean road. Then at Han-Ho. Then at Moru on Han-Ho's shoulder.
Moru looked back at it with the expression of a support group member recognizing a new arrival.
"It gets easier," said Moru. "The honey butter chips help."
The small former Frost Giant looked at the honey butter chips.
"What are those," it said.
"Snack," said Han-Ho.
"Are they good."
"They're pretty good."
A pause.
"...I would like the honey butter chips," said the small former Frost Giant, very quietly, in the tone of something that has just had nine thousand years of glacial certainty removed and found something unexpectedly warm underneath.
Moru held out the bag without a word.
The small former Frost Giant took a chip.
Ate it.
The red eyes — smaller now, but still very much the eyes of something ancient — went wide.
"Oh," it said.
"Yeah," said Moru.
"Oh these are—"
"I know."
"These are extraordinary."
"Honey butter does something to things," said Han-Ho.
He picked up his bag.
Looked at the road.
Clean. Completely clean. Not a trace of ice. Not a trace of residue. Not a trace of nine thousand years of glacial fury.
He nodded with quiet professional satisfaction.
Then he looked at the small former Frost Giant sitting on his clean road eating honey butter chips and felt the specific tired feeling of a man whose situation has just gotten complicated in a way he did not plan for and cannot currently solve.
He looked at Moru.
Moru looked at the small former Frost Giant.
Looked at Han-Ho.
"Master," said Moru carefully.
"No," said Han-Ho.
"I haven't said anything."
"No."
"The couch is quite large—"
"No Moru."
"He has nowhere to go."
"That is not my problem."
"You said that about me."
Han-Ho opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Looked at the small former Frost Giant, who was now on its second chip and had the expression of something that has just discovered that existence can contain things other than cold and fury and nine thousand years of glacial certainty.
He looked at Moru.
Moru looked back at him with enormous red eyes and said nothing, which was somehow worse than if he had said something.
Han-Ho rubbed his face with both hands.
"It's a studio apartment," he said.
"I know Master."
"It's a very small studio apartment."
"I know."
"There is one couch."
"You mentioned."
"You already have the corner."
"Perhaps he could have the other corner."
"There are only two corners Moru."
"Then perhaps—"
"The floor is clean," said the small former Frost Giant helpfully, from ground level. "I don't mind the floor."
Han-Ho looked at it.
"I literally just cleaned the floor," he said.
"I won't dirty it."
"You're a Frost Giant."
"Former," said the small former Frost Giant, with a dignity that was doing its best under the circumstances. "Former Frost Giant. I believe." It looked at its hands. "Everything feels quite different now. Warmer. Is that normal."
"Unfortunately yes," said Moru.
Han-Ho stood in the middle of a clean road in Gangnam surrounded by stunned Hunters and two small formerly catastrophic entities eating convenience store chips and thought about his studio apartment and his one couch and his four minute loading laptop and his three eggs and his half block of tofu.
Down the street Jang Min-Seo was still standing very still.
"Ara," he said.
"Yes."
"Is he about to take the Frost Giant home."
They watched Han-Ho look at the small former Frost Giant for a very long time. Then look at Moru. Then look at the sky with the expression of a man having a conversation with the universe about fairness and losing.
"Yes," said Ara. "I think he is."
"He's an F-Rank Janitor."
"I know."
"He just cleaned a nine thousand year old Frost Giant."
"I know."
"And now he's taking it home."
"Min-Seo."
"I Re-Awakened twice."
"Min-Seo, please—"
"TWICE, ARA."
Han-Ho looked down at the small former Frost Giant.
"What's your name," he said.
The small former Frost Giant thought about this.
"Kjorvaan," it said. "That feels very large for how I currently am."
"We'll figure something out," said Han-Ho, in the tone of a man who is not happy about this but has already made the decision and is moving on. "Don't drip on anything."
"I don't think I can drip anymore."
"Good." Han-Ho picked up his bag. Started walking. "There's a GS25 around the corner."
The small former Frost Giant stood up. Looked at Moru. Moru floated over and positioned himself on Han-Ho's left shoulder, leaving the right side pointedly available.
The small former Frost Giant floated up to Han-Ho's right shoulder.
Sat down.
Looked around at the city with the wide cautious eyes of something experiencing warm air for the first time in nine thousand years.
"What is a GS25," it said.
"Convenience store," said Moru.
"Do they have the honey butter chips."
"Yes."
"I would like more honey butter chips."
"They have them."
"How many can I have."
"As many as you want within reason," said Han-Ho.
"What is reason."
"More than one bag is pushing it."
The small former Frost Giant considered this.
"I froze the Caspian Sea once," it said, in the wistful tone of someone reflecting on a previous life.
"One bag," said Han-Ho firmly.
"One bag," agreed the small former Frost Giant.
Behind them Jang Min-Seo watched an F-Rank Mana-Janitor walk away from the scene of a Frost Giant incident accompanied by two small formerly apocalyptic entities, one on each shoulder, heading to a convenience store.
He stood in the ruins of the glacier for a very long time.
"Ara," he said finally.
"Please don't."
"I need to know who he is."
"Min-Seo—"
"I need to know everything about him."
Three blocks away Han-Ho was already in the GS25 explaining to the same clerk from this morning that no, the new small thing on his right shoulder was not another pet, yes he knew there was a no pets policy, no neither of them were pets, yes he would pay the ten thousand won minimum, could she please not make it a whole thing.
The clerk looked at the small former Frost Giant.
The small former Frost Giant looked at the honey butter chips section with the focused reverence of a convert approaching a shrine.
The clerk went back to her phone.
Some Thursdays were just like this.