Esdeath crouched on a rooftop overlooking the warehouse district, police scanner crackling in her ear. Three nights, three robberies—all with the same pattern. Small electronics businesses, cleaned out between midnight and 3 AM. Minimal security footage, maximum efficiency.
"Dispatch, we've got another silent alarm at 1437 Flushing Avenue. Sending units now."
She smiled, switching off the scanner. Fourth night, fourth robbery—right on schedule. The police would take at least fifteen minutes to arrive. She'd need five.
Esdeath leapt across the gap between buildings, ice forming beneath her feet to cushion her landing. The night air felt electric against her skin as she moved silently toward the coordinates. No sirens yet. Perfect.
The warehouse sat nestled between two abandoned buildings, its security light flickering pathetically above a rusted door. She dropped to street level, senses alert for movement.
Nothing.
Too quiet.
The realization hit her a second too late. As she stepped into the narrow alley beside the warehouse, the growl of engines erupted from both ends. Headlights blazed to life, blinding her momentarily as three vans screeched to a halt, blocking her exits.
Doors slammed open. Men poured out—fifteen, twenty, thirty of them. Professional gear, tactical vests, face masks. Not ordinary thieves. They moved with military precision, forming a perimeter, weapons raised. Many carried what looked like modified stun batons crackling with electricity. Others aimed high-powered rifles directly at her chest.
"Target acquired," one of them barked into a radio.
Esdeath's eyes narrowed. "This was never about electronics, was it?"
A tall figure stepped forward, his face obscured by a tactical mask. "You've been making quite a name for yourself, ice girl. Disrupting operations. Freezing our people."
"Your people deserve worse than frostbite," she replied, counting exits, analyzing threats. Thirty men. All armed. No easy escape route.
The leader raised his hand. "You think you're something special? Some kind of untouchable mutant goddess?" He gestured, and his men tightened the circle. "She bleeds like anyone else!"
A ripple of anticipation moved through the men. One of them fired a warning shot that ricocheted off the brick wall beside her head.
Esdeath felt something shift inside her—not fear, but a cold, familiar clarity. The Lust energy unfurled in her chest, spreading through her limbs like liquid nitrogen. Her heartbeat slowed to a steady, powerful rhythm. Time seemed to stretch.
She cracked her neck, a cold smile forming on her lips.
"You brought this on yourselves."
The men hesitated, suddenly uncertain at her confidence. The leader barked an order, and they advanced.
Esdeath slammed her palm against the concrete. Frost exploded outward in a perfect circle, crackling as it spread beneath their feet. The men stumbled back, but it was already too late.
The ice thickened, climbing upward like living clay seeking form. Humanoid shapes emerged from the frozen ground—first one, then three, then ten. The ice warriors rose to their full height, seven feet tall with blank, featureless faces and limbs that tapered into wicked blades.
They stood motionless, awaiting command. Reflections of streetlights danced across their crystalline bodies.
"What the fuck?" one of the men whispered, his rifle trembling in his hands.
Esdeath straightened, her eyes glowing with frigid power. The ice warriors mirrored her movement, ten perfect sentinels of winter's wrath.
"Let me show you something special," she said.
The gang leader screamed orders. Rifles lifted. The night erupted in gunfire.
Bullets streaked toward Esdeath, but her ice warriors surged forward as one, forming a crystalline shield wall. Rounds shattered against their bodies, sending ice fragments flying like diamond dust.
"Kill them all!" the leader bellowed.
Esdeath felt the power surging through her veins, intoxicating and electric. She extended her arms, and her warriors moved like dancers in a lethal ballet. They flowed between the gunmen with impossible grace, ice blades whistling through the air.
The first warrior cleaved through a rifle barrel before impaling its owner through the shoulder. Another sliced hamstrings with surgical precision, dropping three men in rapid succession. A third warrior caught a thug by the throat, lifting him off the ground as frost spread across his screaming face.
Esdeath vaulted over her creations, landing in the center of the remaining forces. Ice formed along her forearms, extending into twin blades that gleamed under the streetlights. She spun, a whirlwind of frost and fury, her weapons finding gaps in body armor, slicing through tendons and muscle.
"You wanted special?" she called out, her voice ringing with dark joy as she danced between bullets. "Is this special enough?"
A man rushed her with a stun baton. She ducked under his swing, ice blade piercing upward through his elbow joint. His scream cut short as a warrior's fist smashed into his temple.
Blood spattered across the ice, turning black in the darkness. Esdeath felt herself slipping deeper into the current of violence. The Lust energy transformed her movements into something beyond human—beyond mutant. Each strike felt like ecstasy. Each scream of pain fed something primal within her.
She laughed, the sound high and wild, echoing off brick walls as she severed a man's hand at the wrist. Her warriors grew more vicious with her rising bloodlust, mirroring her brutality.
One impaled a gunman through the thigh, lifting him off the ground like a trophy. Another beheaded a tactical vest with such force that the man wearing it collapsed in shock.
"Please!" A voice cut through her haze of pleasure. "God, please stop!"
Esdeath turned, ice blade raised. A lone survivor had thrown his weapon aside, hands raised. Blood streamed from his nose, terror etched across his face. He'd fallen to his knees, trembling.
The nearest ice warrior raised its arm, blade forming for the killing stroke.
"I have kids," the man sobbed. "Please."
The warrior's blade hovered, frozen in mid-strike. Esdeath stood motionless, her chest heaving, sweat and blood mingling on her face.
You don't need to be a monster to be strong.
Jean's voice, gentle but firm, cut through the red mist in her mind. Esdeath blinked, suddenly seeing the carnage around her through clear eyes. Bodies sprawled across ice-slick pavement. Moans of the wounded. The metallic scent of blood heavy in the air.
Her warriors waited, silent sentinels poised for slaughter, awaiting her command.
Esdeath lowered her hand slowly. The ice blades on her arms receded, melting away into vapor.
"Enough," she whispered.
With a sharp snap of her fingers, the ice warriors shuddered. Cracks spread across their crystalline bodies like lightning. In an instant, they exploded into clouds of snow that drifted down over the broken bodies.
Silence fell over the alley. Only the groans of the wounded and the distant wail of approaching sirens broke the stillness.
Esdeath stood alone amid the destruction, her breath coming in ragged gasps, hands trembling not from exertion but from the sudden absence of bloodlust.
Esdeath moved through the aftermath of her violence, stepping carefully between fallen bodies. The slush beneath her boots made wet, sucking sounds—a mixture of melting ice, blood, and God knew what else. Spent bullet casings crunched underfoot, gleaming dully in the weak streetlight.
She paused beside the leader, now unconscious with frost still clinging to his tactical vest. His breathing came in shallow gasps, skin pale from blood loss where her ice had sliced through his thigh. He'd live—most of them would. She hadn't aimed to kill.
Not consciously, anyway.
A man whimpered as she passed. Another stared at her with undisguised terror, pressing himself against the wall as though he could disappear into the bricks. She didn't acknowledge either of them.
What would they see in her face if she did? Pride? Regret? She wasn't sure herself.
Sirens wailed closer. Time to go.
She scaled the fire escape with practiced ease, ice forming briefly under her fingertips for better grip before dissolving into the night air. The rooftop offered blessed solitude—a place to breathe, to think, to process what had just happened.
Wind whipped across the empty expanse, carrying the distant sounds of the city. Esdeath pulled off her glove, examining her bare hand under the moonlight. Ice crystals formed between her fingers, dancing like living things—beautiful, deadly, and completely under her control.
"I could've killed them all and felt nothing," she whispered.
The realization wasn't shocking—that was the worst part. The darkness inside her had always been there, even before the reincarnation. But now it had teeth. Now it had power.
She clenched her fist, crushing the ice crystals. They dissolved into glittering dust that scattered in the wind.
"Stupid," she muttered, annoyed with herself. "So stupid."
These thugs were nothing—street-level operators with guns and attitude. What would happen when she faced someone who could actually hurt her? Someone who pushed her to her limits? Would she lose control completely?
She couldn't afford that luxury. Not in this world. Not with these powers.
Control wasn't just about mastering her abilities—it was about mastering herself. The rage. The bloodlust. The intoxicating rush of power that threatened to consume her every time she unleashed her full strength.
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