The icy winds howled around the Ice Temple, their sharp whispers weaving through the desolate expanse of Dementia's frozen wasteland. In front of the imposing structure, Arfrotian and the Ice Phoenix, in her human form, stood as guardians. Though the temple's silence seemed eternal, an unspoken bond was growing between the two—a bond forged not just in battle but in shared burdens. For eons, Ice Phoenix had been consumed by loneliness, a guilt-ridden existence guarding the Eternal Frostheart, but in Arfrotian, she had found someone who understood her pain. His presence, though cold and enigmatic, melted away a fragment of her solitude.
Suddenly, Ice Phoenix froze, her ethereal blue eyes narrowing as she felt an odd disturbance ripple through the air. It was faint, yet distinct—a ripple that could only mean one thing.
"Someone's here," she said, her voice tight with tension.
Arfrotian's piercing gaze scanned the horizon. His expression remained calm, but his eyes gleamed with a knowing sharpness. "Yes," he replied, his tone laced with certainty. "Not just anyone. Those intruding upon Dementia aren't here by accident. They're after the Eternal Frostheart."
Ice Phoenix turned to him sharply, disbelief flickering across her face. "What? That's... outrageous. Do they even understand what that means?" Her voice faltered, her mind flashing back to a time long ago—an era when Dementia and its neighboring megaverse, Rodentia, were vibrant, teeming with life. That was before she had made the mistake of trusting an angel—Zenian—who betrayed her and attempted to wield the Frostheart, plunging both megaverses into barren, frozen wastelands.
Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her guilt. "If they're after the Frostheart, then it's my fault. Again," she murmured, her voice heavy with regret. "I failed to guard it before. And now—"
"Stop," Arfrotian interrupted, his voice calm yet commanding. "This isn't about your past mistakes. This is about now."
She looked at him, puzzled. "How can you be so certain they're after the Frostheart? And how could you possibly know who they are?"
Arfrotian's lips curved into the faintest smile, one that sent an inexplicable chill down her spine. "It's simple, really," he began, his tone detached as though he were discussing a trivial matter. "When I first entered this omniverse and was captured by the shadow elves, they released me after realizing their mistake. Their queen, Luvania, explained that they were at war with angels who sought to dominate their race."
Ice Phoenix listened intently, her curiosity piqued. "Yes, but what does that have to do with—"
Arfrotian held up a hand to silence her, his expression unreadable. "Patience," he said. "I asked Luvania why the angels were focusing their efforts on conquering Rodentia instead of Dementia. Her answer intrigued me—she said it was because of you."
Ice Phoenix blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"
"Yes, you," Arfrotian replied, his gaze locking onto hers. "A race of angels seeking dominion wouldn't ignore you, the Ice Phoenix, if they truly wanted to control the icy omniverse. The fact that they hadn't attacked Dementia directly meant they feared you. That told me you were stronger than I initially assumed."
Ice Phoenix felt a flicker of pride but quickly suppressed it. "Go on."
Arfrotian continued, his tone matter-of-fact yet unnervingly precise. "If their goal is domination, it's logical to first weaken their opposition. Conquering Rodentia and subjugating the shadow elves of Caisilia would give them strategic advantages and resources. After that, they would likely turn their attention to you. But here's the crucial part—they wouldn't challenge you directly. Not yet."
Ice Phoenix frowned, her mind racing to keep up with his explanation. "Why not?"
"Because they don't need to," Arfrotian said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "If their leader—Zenian, isn't it?—wanted true control, he wouldn't waste his forces fighting you. He'd aim for something that would ensure his victory without a fight. Something like the Eternal Frostheart."
The mention of Zenian's name sent a shiver through Ice Phoenix. Her glowing eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. "Zenian…" she repeated, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "You think he's still alive?"
Arfrotian tilted his head slightly, his expression eerily calm. "Why wouldn't he be? You said yourself that you weren't certain he died after his failed attempt to wield the Frostheart. And if he survived, wouldn't it make sense for him to try again? This time, however, he wouldn't make the same mistakes. He'd be more cunning, more calculated."
Ice Phoenix staggered back, her mind reeling. "But… how can you be so sure it's him? You haven't even encountered the intruders."
Arfrotian's gaze grew sharper, colder. "Because everything fits," he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight that made Ice Phoenix's heart pound. "Think about it. The angels' diversionary attacks on Rodentia and Caisilia serve a single purpose: to distract you. To draw your attention away from Dementia. And now, when the Frostheart's presence has remained undisturbed for eons, intruders suddenly appear here? It's not a coincidence."
He stepped closer to her, his icy blue eyes boring into hers. "Zenian is their leader. He's the one orchestrating all of this. And he's after the Frostheart because he knows what it represents. Not just its power, but you."
"Me?" Ice Phoenix whispered, her voice barely audible.
Arfrotian nodded. "You said it yourself—if someone wields the Frostheart and proves to be its true master, you're bound to serve them. That's the key, isn't it? Zenian doesn't just want the spear. He wants you. With your power and the Frostheart under his control, dominating the icy omniverse would be effortless."
Ice Phoenix felt a chilling terror creep through her. Arfrotian's words were so precise, so methodical, it was as if he could see straight into Zenian's mind. She had never encountered someone who could dissect motives and ambitions with such terrifying accuracy. It was like watching a predator toy with its prey, each step calculated to perfection.
"How… how can you do that?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How can you understand someone's intentions so clearly? It's like you're reading their soul."
Arfrotian's expression softened, but only slightly. "It's not magic," he said. "It's observation. Patterns. Every action leaves a trail, and every motive has a foundation. I don't see it as extraordinary. To me, it's just logic."
But to Ice Phoenix, it was far more than that. It was monstrous. The way he unraveled Zenian's plans, the way he saw through every façade and illusion, was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. It was as if Arfrotian wasn't just a man but something far more terrifying—an entity capable of understanding and manipulating the very essence of ambition and fear.
She looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "You're… terrifying," she whispered, unable to keep the words from escaping her lips.
Arfrotian's lips curved into a faint smile, one that held no malice but still sent shivers down her spine. "Terrifying, perhaps," he said. "But necessary. If we're to protect the Frostheart, we need to anticipate our enemy's every move. And right now, we need to act."
Ice Phoenix nodded, her fear replaced by a fierce determination. If Zenian was truly after the Frostheart, she wouldn't let him succeed—not again. And this time, she wasn't alone. Together, she and Arfrotian would face whatever came next.