Chapter Title: Legacy of the Ice Family
Footstep… Footsteps…..footsteps
It was Madagascar and then he finally paused at the edge of the SUHA burial ground, the air heavy with the scent of earth and frost. He placed a hand over his brow, shielding his eyes from the pale moonlight glinting off the snow dusted graves. "Kenzo Madagascar, huh?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why does no one speak of you when I ask?"
With a sudden impulse, he leaped upward, his cloak billowing as he landed lightly within the sacred grounds. His boots crunched against the frozen earth as he wove through the gravestones, each etched with names of SUHA's fallen heroes. His breath caught when he reached a weathered stone, its surface carved with the name Kenzo Madagascar. Kneeling, he traced the letters with a gloved finger, their edges smoothed by time. "What are you really, Kenzo?" he whispered, a mix of awe and frustration in his tone.
He extended his hand, palm open, as if reaching for answers. A faint chill stirred in his core, and suddenly, a cold vapor hissed from his fingertips, swirling like mist in the air. The ground beneath the grave shimmered with frost, and a sharp gust of wind followed, tousling his dark hair. Madagascar's eyes widened. "Did my ice just manifest?" He shook his head, dismissing it. "Must be the wind."
Standing, he muttered, "If no one will talk about you, I guess it's best to let the dead sleep." He took two steps away, but a low grinding sound stopped him. He spun around, heart pounding. The grave's stone slab had shifted, revealing a hollow within. Nestled atop a skeletal form was a scroll, its red seal gleaming with the name Kenzo in bold script.
Madagascar's breath hitched. "What in the gods' name…?" Cautiously, he bent down and retrieved the scroll, its parchment surprisingly warm against his cold fingers. He tugged at the seal, but it refused to yield, resisting his efforts like a locked gate. Then it hit him—Kenzo was the Ice King. Closing his eyes, Madagascar summoned his power. Snowy particles danced from his palm, delicate as falling flakes, and settled on the seal. With a soft click, the scroll unfurled, revealing ancient script written in shimmering ink.
He sat cross-legged on the frozen ground, eyes devouring the words. The scroll detailed the Madagascar Clan, the Family of Snow. It spoke of legendary techniques, secrets buried for generations. The first revelation stole his breath: the Four Stages of Ice Manifestation. The White Ice, the initial spark every Madagascar wielded, was only the beginning. Next came the Red Ice, a rare and potent form, searing yet frozen, capable of shattering steel. Then, the Black Ice, a force of shadow and mystery, and finally, the Yellow Ice, a radiant power few had ever achieved. Madagascar's pulse quickened. He'd never heard of these stages, not even in whispers.
Unrolling the scroll further, he read of the clan's dual elemental affinities: Water and Mist. The text named Kenzo Madagascar, the Ice King, and Snow, the Princess of Ice, as its greatest wielders. Their son was mentioned, but the space for his name was blank, as if erased by time. Madagascar frowned, tracing the empty line. "Who were you?" he murmured.
The scroll continued, proclaiming the True Way of the Madagascar Clan. It hinted at a deeper truth, a path to mastery, but as he unfurled it further, the parchment began to curl inward, sealing itself with a faint hum. Footsteps crunched behind him. "Madagascar, what are you doing here alone?" Minister Alfred's voice cut through the silence.
Madagascar's heart lurched. He shoved the scroll into his cloak, standing quickly. "Just… admiring the legendary Kenzo," he said, forcing a smile. His eyes darted to the grave, expecting to see the open slab, but it was sealed, pristine, as if nothing had happened. He exhaled, relief mingling with unease.
Alfred's weathered face softened. "Well, let's get going." They stepped out of the burial ground, the scroll's weight heavy against Madagascar's chest. Questions swirled in his mind, but the answers lay hidden in the ancient text now tucked away.
Meanwhile, in the SUHA hospital, a somber silence blanketed the room. Rajesh, the Phoenix, lay still on the sterile bed, his chest no longer rising. The doctors stood in a circle, heads bowed. "The Phoenix's power let him live longer than he should have," one doctor murmured, wiping sweat from his brow. "He fought until the end."
Another nodded. "A legend, even in death." They observed a moment of silence, honoring the fallen warrior whose fiery spirit had once lit up SUHA's darkest days.
Far from the hospital, at the border of SUHA's stronghold, Vincent savored a quiet dinner, unaware of the storm brewing beyond. In the distance, a hundred smoky red lights flickered into existence, glowing like embers in the night. A soldier under General Soren squinted, nudging his colleague. "You see that, mate?"
"Yeah," the other replied, grabbing a pair of goggle lenses. He adjusted the range, zooming in. His breath caught. "Red Walkers. Hundreds of them. Armed to the teeth."
"Ring the damn alarm! We're under attack!" the first soldier shouted. His colleague slammed the alarm button, and sirens wailed across SUHA, shattering the night's calm.
The second soldier snatched the lenses, peering again. His eyes widened as he spotted a figure atop a skeletal horse, cloaked in crimson ice that pulsed with heat and cold. The Red Walker raised a bow, its arrow gleaming with red ice. "Lord Jesus Christ, what is that?" the soldier gasped. Before he could react, the arrow flew, striking him. His body froze instantly, then shattered into fragments, the red ice's dual nature—scorching and frigid—reducing him to dust.
The alarms screamed on, a desperate call to arms. The Red Walkers marched forward, their glowing eyes fixed on SUHA's walls. War had come, and the legacy of the Ice Family would soon be tested, And the strength of SUHA.