The frost didn't melt.
Kael observed the way Lyra's blood crystallized midair, each droplet freezing into perfect geometric shapes that hovered like suspended chimes. The shattered remnants of her mask lay between them, its polished surface now webbed with fractures that pulsed with faint blue light.
"You're not dying," Kael corrected his earlier assessment. His fingers traced the edge of a frozen blood shard, noting how it resonated at a frequency that made his teeth ache. "You're unraveling."
Lyra's fingers twitched toward the largest mask fragment. Frost spread from her fingertips, forming delicate filigree patterns across the stone floor - not random, Kael realized, but precise mathematical constructs. Containment sigils.
"We were never meant to last," she whispered. The words left her lips as visible frost-clouds that formed runes before dissipating.
A gust of wind howled through the ruined cathedral, making the frozen blood droplets chime in harmonic sequence. The sound was… familiar.
Kael's crown grew heavier, its void-drips freezing instantly as they struck the sigil-covered ground.
Act I: The Containment Field
Lyra's confession came in fragments, each word measured against the pain of speaking:
1. The Selection Process
• Orphan girls taken from plague-ridden villages ("The sick ones lasted longest")
• Their lungs flushed with liquid starlight until their breath froze mid-exhale
• The ones who survived the freezing became Saints ("We called it the Blessing")
2. The True Purpose
• "Our frost wasn't weaponized. It was… containment."
• Every exhale reinforced invisible barriers ("Like stitching reality back together")
• Keeping something beneath the Grand Cathedral asleep ("They called it the Sleeper")
3. The Flaw
• "Veles was the first to crack. Started hearing whispers in the frost patterns."
• "Caine… Caine was always empty. Just a vessel waiting to be filled."
• Her fingers clutched at her chest. "I held on longest. But you broke the seals."
Kael noted three things:
• The frost patterns matched the Maw's chamber runes (but inverted)
• Lyra's heartbeat had slowed to one pulse every ninety-three seconds
• Her left pupil was fully dilated while the right remained pinprick-small
The System flickered at the edge of his vision, text glitching:
[Containment Breach Imminent]
[Source: Primary Sanctum Lock #7]
[Warning: Temporal Echoes Detected]
[Recommendation: Observe]
Act II: The Thaw
The first frozen blood droplet shattered at precisely 3:33 AM.
Kael counted the intervals.
Second droplet: 3.33 seconds later.
Third: 3.33 seconds after that.
By the fifth fracture, the sound coalesced into a voice:
"LYRA"
The frost saint convulsed. Her ribs cracked outward with surgical precision, each bone separating cleanly to reveal—
—glass.
Her chest cavity was lined with smooth, curved panes like a cathedral rose window. Beyond it, something vast and pale stirred in liquid darkness, its movements synchronized with the freezing patterns now spreading up Lyra's neck.
"What are you?" Kael asked, not to Lyra, but to the thing behind her ribs.
The glass fogged over. Words appeared, etched by an unseen finger:
YOUR FAILURE
Lyra screamed as the final containment seal broke. The sound split into three harmonizing tones that shattered every remaining frozen blood crystal in unison.
Act III: The Communion
The frost reversed its flow.
Instead of spreading outward, it crawled back into Lyra's body, carrying with it fragments of the ruined cathedral:
• Stone dissolved into blue mist that coiled around her limbs
• Iron reinforcements twisted into frozen vines piercing her palms
• The air itself solidified into jagged ice sculptures of screaming faces
At the epicenter, Lyra rose, her body now translucent as frosted glass. Her organs pulsed as dark shadows within, except for her heart - which had turned to solid diamond, its facets reflecting scenes Kael recognized from the Maw's deepest chambers.
"They told us you were the enemy," she said, her voice layered with something deeper, older. "But you're just another key turning in the same lock."
Kael's Skill Analyzation glitched violently, text scrambling:
[ERROR]
[ENTITY DESIGNATION: SAINT NO LONGER APPLIES]
[NEW DESIGNATION: TEMPORAL ECHO]
[THREAT LEVEL: APOCRYPHAL]
[SUGGESTED ACTION: NONE AVAILABLE]
The thing wearing Lyra's form smiled, its diamond heart flashing with trapped lightning.
"Shall we discuss terms, Hollow King?" It extended a hand, palm-up. Frozen blood formed a miniature crown in its grasp. "Or will you repeat your predecessor's mistakes?"
Final Frame:
All cages have locks.
Some just require the right sacrifice.