With dashing speed, the two mystics arrived at the scene, panting heavily from their uninterrupted sprint. Their boots splashed through shallow, frozen puddles as they finally caught a full view of their surroundings. A sudden chill in the air washed over them, forcing goosebumps up their arms despite their combat suits.
Everything was frozen.
From the jagged rocky shores to the sprawling waters of the lake, all was encapsulated in thick, glassy ice. In the center stood a massive frozen statue of something grotesque—yet oddly beautiful—as if it had always been there, a monument forgotten by time. It shimmered under the light, casting long refracted shadows across the surface of the lake as heavy mist surrounds the area.
They stepped closer in silence until the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps drew their attention.
Their captain emerged from the mists which have now been frozen solid, his silhouette cutting an imposing figure through the mist. He calmly carried a limp body over his shoulders.
"Don't worry. This person is still breathing... I checked," he said, his voice cold but laced with a strange pause, as though even he hadn't expected the boy to survive. He gently passed Kaleem's unconscious body to the male mystic beside him.
Meanwhile, the female mystic, Mei, dashed across the icy expanse toward the statue. As her feet landed on the frozen lake's surface—
Yelp!
She shrieked involuntarily. "It's cold!" she muttered, surprised that even her reinforced combat boots couldn't fully shield her from the chill that seeped through.
Raising her gaze, she studied the frozen statue at the center. It was squirming—ever so slightly, subtle ripples under the thick layers of ice. Her brow furrowed. With narrowed eyes and trained experience, she entered an analytical trance. After a moment of observation and confirming her suspicions, she took a combat stance, sliding her striking hand to her hip.
With a precise palm strike, she hit the statue.
Cracks burst outwards instantly, spiderwebbing through the ice. It shattered into countless pieces, scattering across the lake like fallen glass.
Mei bent down and picked up a translucent bead—the core characteristics of the entity that had been sealed in the ice. Pulling out a containment box covered in a variety of complex locks, both mechanical and magical, she carefully placed the bead inside. With a hiss of magical energy, the box clicked shut and vanished into her storage equipment.
Returning to the others, she passed her captain a look.
He stood still, eyes cold and calculating. With his katana sheathed at his waist and his sharp bob-cut hair slicked neatly to the sides, he gave the impression of a traditional swordsman. The moment Mei returned, he pulled out his phone and dialed in a report.
"We've secured the target," he said in a clipped tone. "Target is unconscious but alive. Contained sample and characteristics of the entity has been recovered and will be dealt with accordingly."
After ending the call, he turned to Mei. "When the boy wakes up, give that to him," he said, gesturing toward the now-stored bead.
Startled for a moment, Mei blinked. "Understood," she replied with a sigh, slipping her hands behind her back. The other mystic stood silently, his eyes wandering over the frozen devastation before them. None of them spoke of it aloud, but the truth was obvious: this destruction was beyond what a level 1 mystic is capable of.
"Bring him. We're heading back to the city," the captain ordered, walking ahead.
His eyes briefly flickered toward Kaleem's bruised and battered body. Malnourished, his frame showed signs of prolonged nutritional deficiency. His eyelids were dark, showing signs of mental and magical exhaustion. Even more shocking was his mana signature—weak, flickering, unstable.
"This power… it came from him?" the captain thought grimly. "But how?"
He remembered the moment clearly. As he had approached the lake's entrance earlier, a strange fluctuation in the air had hit him like a wall. That sensation, of a mystery—he had felt it right before Kaleem cast that technique.
The timing had been exact.
---
Later, in the city.
Kaleem was placed under emergency care at one of the mystic hospitals. His condition, while stabilized, was precarious. The doctors refused to allow magical interference, insisting instead on natural healing due to the damage to his muscle and nervous system.
Eventually, visiting hours ended, and the mystics were asked to leave the room.
---
Meanwhile…
In Kaleem's Mindscape:
He floated in empty space, his body coiled like a serpent, anchored in place by a glowing crown—his Anchor. It was brilliant, shining with complex runes that shimmered in and out of existence, stabilizing his already fragile soul in the chaos.
Around him, whispers slithered.
Twisted words and broken thoughts stabbed into his psyche, strange ramblings and unspoken horrors echoed through the void.
He screamed, though no sound left his mouth.
His body convulsed. His form shifted erratically—from claw to tentacle to arm, flickering between alien shapes. His soul was being twisted, pulled into the truths of the world, forced to glimpse what mortals were not meant to see.
He was slipping.
Until—
The Anchor flared with pure light.
Slowly, the chaotic transformations began to stabilize. His spirit reformed piece by piece. The limbs settled. The screaming quieted. And in the silence, he finally curled up into a fetal position and drifted off into peaceful, unconscious slumber.
---
In reality:
Beep.
Kaleem's eyes blinked open. The white fluorescent lights of the hospital ceiling stung his vision.
He tried to speak—nothing came out.
He looked around. Sterile walls. Drip bags. Monitors.
Then he looked at himself… and recoiled.
His arms—blackened. Not burnt, but _blackened_ from within. Blood had coagulated in his veins, pooling unnaturally beneath the skin. He tried to move his neck and—
"AAARGH!"
A searing, splitting headache wracked his body, forcing him to scream in pain.
Thud!
The sound of his body hitting the metal rail sent alarms into chaos. Nurses and a doctor rushed into the room. One nurse gasped. The doctor's eyes widened.
"This is… a miracle," the doctor said softly.
"To be able to wake up in that condition," a nurse added, awe in her voice.
Kaleem struggled to ask something, his voice a hoarse whisper, but it was too faint to be heard.
Still, it snapped them out of their daze.
"Stabilize his vitals! Set up for trauma response! Full diagnostics!"
The team sprang into action, rushing around the room. But the only thought in Kaleem's fading consciousness was one that kept repeating over and over in his mind:
"I survived… I survived?"