The trek to the obsidian spire was uneventful for the most part. The group moved as one. Vastarael led from the front, his boots crunching against the permafrost while Phaenora lingered beside him, making snide remarks that even now had Adelasta rolling her eyes.
Narisva, as always, walked with a cocky swagger, though the tension in her movements betrayed her unease. Farrynelle and Xander, ever the quiet and dependable duo, flanked Siranna and her daughters, keeping the humans in the group shielded from the biting cold.
Adelasta, watching from the sidelines as a ghost-like spectator, couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was something about the silence that set her on edge. The closer they got to the spire, the heavier the atmosphere became. She glanced at the present Vastarael beside her.
"It feels like something's watching us," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of crunching ice.
"It's not just a feeling," Vastarael replied, his gaze fixed on the memory unfolding in front of them. "The spire is alive in a way. We all felt it. And we didn't even know what we were walking into."
As they approached the base of the spire, the ground beneath their feet began to change. The permafrost was still there, but now it was laced with streaks of black ice that seemed to pulse faintly, as if something was alive beneath the surface. The spire itself loomed above them, its obsidian surface reflecting the faint light like a distorted mirror.
"This is it," Memory Vastarael said, his voice steady but laced with tension. He turned to the group, his golden eyes scanning their faces. "Everyone stay close. We don't know what—"
Before he could finish, the air shifted. It was subtle, a faint hum that seemed to vibrate in their bones. Then it hit them all at once.
A crushing, suffocating force slammed down on them, sending everyone to their knees. It was as if gravity had suddenly multiplied tenfold.
Adelasta flinched instinctively, even though she knew the pressure couldn't touch her in this ghostly state. She watched in horror as the group struggled against the invisible force. Memory Vastarael gritted his teeth, his hands pressed against the ice as he tried to push himself up. Narisva, who was already on her knees, slammed her palms onto the ground and activated her Gravity Manipulation.
"Don't just sit there!" She shouted through clenched teeth, her usual bravado replaced with raw desperation. A faint, starry aura surrounded her as she attempted to counteract the overwhelming pressure. For a moment, the force seemed to lessen, giving the others a chance to catch their breath.
But it wasn't enough.
The humans—Siranna, her daughters, Shimmer and Runner—were practically flattened against the ice. Their faces were contorted in pain, their breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. If it weren't for Narisva's efforts, they would've been crushed into paste. Even the more powerful members of the group—Xander, Phaenora, and Farrynelle—were struggling to stay conscious.
"This is insane!" Farrynelle shouted, her voice barely audible over the deafening hum that seemed to emanate from the spire. "What the hell is doing this?!"
And then they saw it.
A massive, closed eye slowly materialized above the spire, its sheer size dwarfing everything around it. The eyelid was textured with strange, frost-like patterns that glowed faintly. As the group stared in stunned silence, the eye began to twitch, as though it were waking from a deep sleep.
"Don't look at it!" Xander shouted suddenly, his voice breaking through the chaos. He turned to the group, his expression frantic. "Close your eyes! Now! Don't let it—"
He never got to finish his sentence.
The giant eye snapped open, revealing an impossibly large iris that glowed an otherworldly blue. The moment it opened, a wave of frost erupted from the spire, rushing toward them like an unstoppable tidal wave. Adelasta could only watch in horror as the frost engulfed everything in its path. The group barely had time to react before the icy wave slammed into them, knocking them flat against the ground.
Adelasta felt a sudden, biting cold wash over her, even though she wasn't truly there. It was the kind of cold that seeped into their very soul, leaving them trembling and numb. The frost spread like steam, covering the landscape in a thick, white haze. Visibility dropped to almost nothing; even Adelasta's sharp eyes couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her.
She turned to Vastarael, her voice trembling despite herself.
"What... what is this? This isn't normal frost. It's alive."
"It's not frost. It's essence. Raw, unfiltered essence from whatever's controlling the spire. It was trying to kill us."
"Well shit."
Vastarael didn't reply. His attention was focused on the memory, where the group was slowly regaining their footing. The frost clung to their bodies like a second skin, its icy tendrils creeping up their limbs. Narisva was the first to stand, her entire body shaking from the effort.
"Everyone... get up!" she shouted, her voice hoarse but determined. "We're not dying here—"
Her voice broke off mid-sentence, the gleam in her eyes quickly replaced with something far more chilling: pure, unfiltered horror.
Adelasta's breath hitched as she followed Narisva's gaze. The others… Siranna, her daughters, Farrynelle, Shimmer, Runner, even Phaenora, were no longer moving. At first, Adelasta thought they had just collapsed from the frost's relentless assault. But then she noticed the stillness, the unnatural way their bodies gleamed under the faint light.
They weren't moving because they couldn't.
They were frozen, completely encased in a layer of translucent ice, their bodies locked in kneeling positions.
Siranna's daughters clung to their mother, their faces frozen in expressions of fear and helplessness. Runner's arms were still half-extended, as if he had been trying to fight something that never came. Even Phaenora, always so lively and sharp-tongued, was trapped mid-motion, her hand outstretched as though she had been reaching for Vastarael.
"No… no, no, no!"
Xander stumbled backward, his chest heaving as she stared at the frozen statues of his comrades. His hands clawed at her head as if trying to wake herself from a nightmare.
"This isn't real! They can't… they can't be…"
Adelasta's heart pounded in her chest as she took in the scene. Even though she wasn't truly there, the sheer weight of the horror unfolding before her was suffocating. The way the frost had consumed them, leaving nothing but statues behind... it was cruel. It was inhuman.
Xander let out a low growl, his hands curling into fists as he forced himself to stand.
"Damn it… DAMN IT!" he roared, his voice echoing across the frozen wasteland. He turned to Vastarael, his icy breath clouding in the air. "What the hell do we do now?! We can't leave them like this!"
Vastarael didn't answer immediately. He stared at the frozen figures of his friends, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. His golden eyes seemed dimmed by the sight before him. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and hollow.
"They're not… gone," he said, his gaze fixed on Phaenora's frozen hand. "Not yet. I can see their souls. They're intact."
Narisva whipped around to face him, her expression frantic.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?! Look at them, Vastarael! They're—"
Before she could finish, the eye above the spire snapped shut. The suffocating pressure vanished instantly. But before anyone could process what had just happened, the world around them began to distort. The frost-covered ground rippled like water and the towering obsidian spire dissolved into the air like smoke.
And then, just as abruptly as it had all begun, they were somewhere else.
Adelasta blinked as the memory shifted. The spire was gone, the oppressive frost replaced with the familiar sight of the black sand beach where they had started their journey.
The group was back at square one, as if the past eighteen days had been erased. But something was wrong.
Narisva and Xander were both sprawled on the ground, gasping for air, their bodies trembling from the aftereffects of the pressure. Vastarael stood a few feet away, his white hair disheveled and his tunic torn. His golden eyes scanned the area. But apart from the three of them, the beach was empty.
The frozen statues were gone.
Narisva was the first to break the silence, her voice trembling with both rage and despair.
"What the hell just happened?!" She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her. "Where are the others?! What did that thing do to them?!"
Xander's fists slammed into the sand, his head bowed.
"We couldn't even protect them," he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "We failed…"
"We didn't fail," Vastarael said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "We survived. That's the only reason we're still here."
"Survived?!" Narisva snapped, rounding on him. Her fists were clenched at her sides as she held Vastarael's collar, ready to punch him. "You think that's enough? You think that makes up for leaving them behind?!"
Vastarael finally turned to face her, his expression so cold that Narisva twitched.
"You can yell at me all you want, Narisva but it won't change anything. They're gone. And if we don't figure out what's happening here, we'll be next. I didn't expect this at all. Also, the Epoch Cycle can't let us leave this place. That's definitely a Winter Labor."
Adelasta watched the exchange in stunned silence, her mind racing to process everything she had just witnessed. She turned to the present Vastarael, who stood beside her with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on the memory.
"Is this… what really happened?" She asked. "Did you… lose them all?"
Vastarael didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost detached.
"We thought we did. At least, for a while. But the truth was much worse. I'm not going to give spoilers. Just watch."
Adelasta's stomach twisted at his words but before she could press him for more, her attention was drawn back to the memory. The group stood in silence. The black sand beneath their feet seemed darker now, as if reflecting the despair that had taken hold of them.
"This is insane," Narisva muttered, her voice breaking. "This whole island is insane."
Xander nodded silently, his gaze distant. "We should've never come here. This is even worse than the Island of Peony."
Vastarael's golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he turned to face the horizon once more.
"We didn't have a choice. And we still don't. Look."
They all saw a flowing hologram in front of them.
[Kill the Winter Labor.]
"Of course... that was our main quest since we can to Erna Isles," Narisva chuckled sarcastically, looking at the hologram with disdain. "We have to kill the Winter Labors and the Frozen God. Seems that we have a mission."