The battlefield froze.
A hollow, cold wind howled across the upper reaches of Lithia. The entire place felt like a colossal frost giant stirring from ancient slumber.
The howling burrowed into the fabric of night itself, piercing and raw. More than just announcing the arrival of a frost nightmare, it heralded something primal.
The entire world seem to pause. No. It did pause.
The white blizzard intensified, veiling the sky in absolute white.
The night didn't break into day, yet the city gained momentary respite from the oppressive darkness that had blanketed the sky at a point of the rift's appearance.
Everything beyond vanished into whiteness.
Not quite frozen—rather sheathed in vicious wind painted white. Everything within its grasp became invisible.
Everyone, including Ascendant Zion and every other Drifter working to evacuate the merchants, stared skyward in a daze. Their faces drained of color, eyes wide with terror at the strange blizzard engulfing the sky above.
