Hey guys! Thanks for your patience here's chapter 13 up and running!
I do not own ROTG, just my OCs
Lynx remained huddled in the corner of his stone prison, slight tremors coursing throughout his body as he remained seated with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He was not cold, though, by any stretch of the imagination. He has never felt such an unpleasant experience (or so he has heard it to be) in all his millenia of existence, with or without the heavy, striped, fur cloak he wears which covers most of his extremities.
His nose twitched as his striking, green eyes stared at the small, barely two-inch crevice which remained but a few yards away from where he stood. He knew what stood on the other side of that crevice. But it wasn't time.
The night Pitch Black let his nightmares loose on Lynx, at one point during the torture he screamed and, in desperation, punched as hard as he could. Not at anyone or anything in particular in his sight, but he just had to throw the hardest punch he could muster. Unfortunately at the time for him, for all he knew it left him with a broken hand and a team of yet-unharmed mares who ceaselessly continued their attack. Yet he later realized that his broken hand was merely a tradeoff, one broken hand for this little crevice. But it wasn't time.
The crevice was small and, in all honesty still gave him merely a snowball's chance in hell (especially with his broken hand), but it is a start. The hand at the moment is merely a minor inconvenience given his incredibly fast healing capabilities, especially for a spirit. For supposedly being like immortal gods to these pathetic worms, these weak spirits take too long to recover from their injuries. How I lost to these weaklings in the first place I'll never know.
But he knew. He knew exactly where he went wrong in his first battle against Mother Nature. It's the exact same reason why Pitch Black lost his last fight against the Guardians. He underestimated his opponent's power. Well, he certainly learned his lesson. The next chance he had, he would make sure to rectify that and take out the biggest threats first. But it wasn't time.
To be successful this time around, Lynx would have to continue to be patient. He has waited for several thousand years for his moment, what would a few more weeks be in the grand scheme of things? One fatal flaw he has learned of his threats, they are too impulsive for their own good. They don't take the time to think or observe their surroundings and strategize around it. It will be their rash nature that will allow Lynx to bring them all to their downfall.
What a pity, too. Although he would love to keep such potential talent as Jack Frost around and properly train him in what he could do with his winter powers, he has become too ingrained in the ways of the Guardians to be swayed. Besides, it probably was for the better, anyway. Out of all his enemies, Jack Frost was most definitely the most rash and impulsive thinker of the bunch. Way too hot-tempered for a proper winter spirit.
At the whistling of the wind and the pounding against his cavern, Lynx's head jolted toward the source of the sound. But nothing was coming through from the other side. Merely the start of an ice storm. Though his body still shook, he returned his focus to his last hope, the small crevice.
"Soon enough," he assured himself, "it will be time. Before you can act, there is still much more planning to do. Now that you have access, you must choose a catalyst which will lead to your success." He jumped slightly when a particularly large chunk of ice crashed into the outer edge of the cavern. "But choose wisely...oh there are so many different routes you have planned that you can choose. So many spirits to check off the list. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and they have given you millenia to freeze it...almost quite literally in this climate."
He briefly looked up from his trance of the crevice to count the number of times any shards of ice larger than 2 inches in diameter struck his cavern. Tap, tap, tap...94, 95...tap, tap, tap…
"Oh, Lynx," he muttered, snapping back to focus, "Just which route shall you choose to lead to victory? There is one route in particular that could help you kill 2 birds with one stone. Or rather 2 spirits…"