WARNING: Violence, blood, injury, death.

The First Apprentice

It was some time following the fall of the North Pacific Pillar that Hyoga arrived at the steps of the Arctic Temple. He hastened through its inner hall, not taking long to jog out to the courtyard, where the accursed target could be found. Before exiting, he already had the sight of the one protecting it, adorned in a familiar Scale.

The Saint carefully slowed down the pace, leaving prints over the dust that coated the marble tiles. The pillar's guard walked to stand in front of it, like a live barrier. Hyoga squinted upon seeing him closer — indeed he recognized this armor. That was the same man whom he fought in Athens, another warrior bearing the coldest of Cosmoi.

His Scale was of a yellow, almost orange hue, and the shoulder pads were majestically elongated, displaced as many long spikes set apart merely by hard angles. The bevor wasn't the tallest, though it protruded significantly forward, and was etched with markings that descended to decorate figures on the cuirass. There one would've found depictions of a great sea beast, its horrifying face and flat maw bearded in several tentacles. Its body resembled both fish and manta ray, flowering outward with spiked fins, but tapering to a single point, an edged tail. This creature preyed upon an ancient warship, depicted on the other side of the piece in a desperate attempt at elusion. The helmet this General wore enclosed both sides of the face, and the long blonde hair partially shadowed half his features, such that the most eye-catching features there were the three sapphires inlaid above.

Both the fighters did not desire to speak initially; the Mariner flew upwards with a blast of cold, and Cygnus braced for his descent. When such did come, the young man avoided by striding in the other direction, and they started to hunt and evade each other throughout the whole of the yard.

Wherever the fighters went, freezing gales followed suit, and crystalline snow formed layers along the stone to render it slippery. This was no matter to them; whenever and wherever they landed, regardless of speed, they would slide with complete control and somehow launch themselves back to the air, oft to push or be pushed by the opponent's winds.

They were fierce, albeit the General more than the Saint, for Hyoga wished to be in fighting condition till he reached Athena, whereas the Atlantean had no qualms dying to protect the Arctic Pillar. The latter advanced after bouncing off a corner of the place, going head on against him rather than dodging as he did prior.

He flung a fist forth like a blur of light and shouted: "DIAMOND DUST!" Cygnus frowned and, in response, did the same as fast as he could.

The icy fronts clashed with one another, and their power was so similar that they virtually canceled, reduced to a congealed formation in their barycenter soon to fall to the floor. Having landed, the combatants opened distance from one another and readied to fight once more.

"Did they teach you that technique in Atlantis?" Hyoga asked, voice raised.

His opponent hummed a chuckle and nodded the head left and right. "They didn't," he responded, and somehow there was a hint of his tone that unnerved Cygnus further. "I was taught it the same place as you."

Bemused, the Saint raised an eyebrow, yet did not let the guard down. "You were also born in the Soviet Union then," he said.

"Born in Karelia, but raised and trained in Siberia," the Mariner continued, and thus Hyoga's frown returned. "Does it ring any bells, Hyoga?"

"You…" He could not believe his ears, eyes, and mind. Cygnus was perturbed by what he entertained, a sensation only exacerbated when the enemy took off that low helmet to reveal a long, dark blonde head of hair, shortened only at the top so that it would not fall over the eyes. In order to keep the wild nature of his strands, he tied a bundle of it on the back with a band, which also fell over the back of the Scale.

The man had fair skin and a single fair eye — the left one had been deeply scarred and was permanently shut at first appearances. The discolored, straight evidence of a wound ran right through the eyelid, from forehead to cheek. That face was of Hyoga's childhood friend, his training partner, Camus' first apprentice.

"I'm not surprised that we meet again," the Mariner commented.

"Isaak!" Hyoga uttered in disbelief. "How can this be?"

"Though I am surprised that you are yet reminded of me," Isaak finished. "I expected otherwise."

"How can I not remember you? We thought you were dead, we were devastated!" the Saint reinforced.

"Were you? I went out of my way for you, I saved you, but did you think of rescuing me later? Or perhaps did you think of rescuing my corpse?"

Hyoga admitted: "Had it not been for you and Master Camus, I would surely be dead now. He also tried to seek you in the depths, but didn't find you no matter how hard he searched."

"I risked my life to save yours," Isaak spoke and then pointed to his stricken vision. "I lost an eye for you. How much did the two of you sacrifice to find me?" Cygnus parted the lips in guilt; he wondered if there was a way to make his old friend comprehend, yet the Mariner went on. "You are a selfish man, Hyoga, and Camus is too cold to care for either of us. He needed only a strong apprentice to solidify his position in Sanctuary."

"What are you saying?" the other spoke up.

"You could have waited to visit your mother. You knew the dangers, yet your heart's content was beyond any risk this posed to us. Hyoga, you are the reason I nearly died. Atlantis, however, is the reason I stand here before you."

"That's not it!" his old friend objected, and his eyes glistened in a mix of frustration and anger. "You were like a brother to me. I mourned you like a brother, Isaak! Master mourned you like a son! If you had any idea…"

"I will end your life today," Isaak continued, and his arms graciously moved to a menacing position, fingers aimed at the enemy. "Do not take this as vengeance. We meet today as foes, the way fate designed, Kraken against Cygnus. Fight me, Athena's Saint!"

Hyoga gritted the teeth behind his lips and prepared; the pose which he assumed was that of the swan, a knee raised and arms like wings beside. Their Cosmoi froze the air about them, distorting light and matter alike. As soon as the Mariner leapt, their fight reignited, much more lively than before.

Despite Isaak's ailment, he and Hyoga seemed equal in every department, speed, power, resourcefulness, or whichever else. Whenever Kraken spun about to corner the opponent with cold torrents, Cygnus deflected this with walls his own; whenever Cygnus attempted to cut a way to the other, Kraken so casually sent him off with a barrage of snow.

Their every mannerism in battle was a close mirror match, a shadow of the Saint that came before them. It was fascinating to watch that, despite having been far from Camus for so long, Isaak's strikes did not lose his language; rather than abandoning all of his former master's techniques, he continued to refine them into what he believed to be their logical conclusion.

However, the slightest of edges remained. There came an instance when Cygnus landed with force ahead of the Mariner, who slid back slightly to give himself time to parry. First he glanced a backwards kick with the gauntlet, and then a series of spread out punches, each spawning glass-like frost to explode around their armor.

That viciousness with which Hyoga advanced was odd; his shield arm pushed down at Isaak's fist, which they held in place for a split second. The opportunity presented itself for the Saint to raise the opposite arm and strike a largely undefended foe. As if taken by muscle memory, the young man prepared a knife-edge swing, but his thoughts went elsewhere, thus he instead pushed his former friend with the shield and skipped back.

Kraken took note of this and, to ensure his own safety, scourged the air betwixt with a fling of the leg. The wind brought them back to a neutral state, whence they could safely restart combat.

One would've been impressed by Hyoga's knowledge of the Seventh Sense, were it not for the rank of his master. "I expected you to be weaker than this," said Isaak, "but your power reminds me of Camus' already." There was no response; the other stepped backwards in high alert, fully silent. "Still, I am beyond anything he has achieved. Let me show you the ability that earned me the role of Mariner-General!"

The crystals of dust about them were attracted to Kraken quite suddenly; as they passed by the surface of the Scale, they flowed past in arcs, and the air in his outline turned into cold vapor. A pure shine crowned his form, then Isaak lifted both arms overhead, no different from how one would do at the Aurora Execution's procession, although his fingers never met above the head.

Instead, they remained loose, as if awaiting something to be held. It was from the palms that a shining sphere was slowly spawned, and so Hyoga prepared, raising Cosmos too. He soon understood this was not the same technique he met in yesteryear, but a thing else, the kind of which he was not capable of predicting.

This, too, was a goodly power. The temple was dressed in green, cyan, and purple streaks of plasma, which lightly carried snowflakes towards the floor. The temperature became even more gelid then, and so the General lowered his hands, screaming: "AURORA BOREALIS!"

That sphere he produced expanded in a split second, filled half of the courtyard, and outsped Cygnus' attempted evasion. To be within it was like being trapped in the coldest of wave crests, taken by force and thermal shock. Not only that, through it traveled electric shocks that stunned its victim.

He was launched into the half walls and pillars at an edge of the place, and the structure sunk onto him, partially congealed as he was. Once this terrifying feat had been displayed, the Arctic Temple was left in the aftermath of a snowstorm, Isaak and the pillar the only ones left standing.

The raid of the pillars pressed on, as did the war in the front, and there was no end in sight as of yet. Although Athena's army had taken great strides in breaking through the blockades, especially on Mu and Aldebaran's end, there was a lot of ground to cover before they had free reign over the fields. Even then, were they to breach the defenses in full, they had the remaining General-Marina to deal with, if not Poseidon himself, a nigh insurmountable opponent.

But nothing stopped them. With each pillar that fell, their morale was invigorated, and that of the Atlanteans fragilized. Sanctuary believed wholeheartedly in the survival of Athena, and their ability to save humanity from certain extinction. As the curse of the priests were diverted to the Mainstay, wherein the goddess was trapped, they nevertheless persisted.

However, the reality back in Sanctuary itself was a different one. The Saints, soldiers, and amazons left behind were not fond of their predicament; due to Dohko's distance and Marin's limitations, their complaints took long to reach him, and the Gold Saint's responses took just as long to come. It was no surprise that the High Priestess became highly requested in lieu of Libra's authority; it was from a Bronze Saint which Aiolia received her call down to the Temple of Cancer, one he obeyed promptly.

Arriving in such a place was an eerie experience every instance, despite knowledge of its sacred nature. The muffled cry of tormented souls was ever present, but so was the bell of Cancer's Aspirant, wandering amid statues and altars till reaching the Hellmouth. No less, conversations of politics and military maculated the temple's importance, and those came from Saints and officers pestering Aleka by the entrance.

Leo noted this and strolled in that direction, passing several steps away from the Aspirant. He heard hushed tones of frustration, Marin's tardiness, Libra's absurd orders… to that he sighed and presented himself to the cultist with a bow. "High Priestess, you called for me," he said.

"There you are, Aiolia," a Bronze Saint called out, "you understand! There's no point in keeping us back while our Lady is in Atlantis, while our peers fight to their deaths! The High Priestess must relieve us of our duty here."

Aiolia nearly raised the bow, momentarily staring at the one who spoke; he then bowed once more and reinforced: "High Priestess, what did you need me for?" The other Saints eyed back and forth in awkwardness, soon seeing that they lacked decorum.

The woman who had stayed quiet until now turned her face to the Gold Saint, and she spoke softly, albeit loud enough that the noise would not overwhelm her: "You did leave units scouting well outside Athens, did you not?"

"Yes," he assured, finally raising the face, "all throughout the coast."

"I am not keen on military matters, but I believe the remaining troops would better serve in Sanctuary rather than there," she spoke, and therewith not only the Bronze Saints, but also Aiolia questioned her reasoning.

"Lady Aleka, I have left these men there in expectation of Marina trying to sneak out," he argued with a nod. "While the enemy is contained in Atlantis, we are safer."

"Exactly," a Bronze Saint confirmed, but Leo's gaze hinted that his input was not welcome.

"There is a lot more to worry about within Atlantis itself," said the High Priestess. "That, I have faith, your friends are dealing well with, and let us not be forgetful of Heaven's certain involvement. Regardless of our losses, Poseidon shall be defeated."

"I won't argue against that," the Gold Saint said. "Bringing these troops in, however — what would they even do here?"

"Have them not concentrated around Aries, rather scatter them along the grounds and outskirts, to watch out for suspicious activity," she suggested; the Saints hummed in thought.

"High Priestess…" Aiolia paused with an inquisitive frown "… do you expect visitors from within other than the Atlanteans?"

"Right, the Underworld, or even Heaven!" the Bronze Saint from prior said, finally entertaining her worry.

Aleka shook her head and agreed: "Whichever you may fathom, it would be a fine candidate. I assume that is why Libra ordered you stay back, hence my suggestion."

"It would've been easier if he were more candid with his intentions," said Leo.

"Such secrecy is strategic."

"Hm, it must be. I'm on it," the Gold Saint confirmed; he turned to the lower-ranking Saints and signaled to the front passage. "Let's contact the commanders on the coast and set up our patrols. This is no place to debate logistics."

"Yes, sir," the men replied, then they followed out and left Aleka and the Aspirant behind.

It was a matter of half an hour till most of the scouts had been collected from the Aegean coast and back into Sanctuary. In order to cover as much of the area as possible, Saints and officers analyzed maps and plants of the city and its outskirts, focusing groups on corners of difficult access or visibility. Even the sewer system, generally entered by none more than workers of the civilian government, thereon received frequent visits from soldiers and guards.

As Shun had once noticed, some form of pernicious influence hid in Sanctuary. It was not the sort to be necessarily spotted with eyes or ears, but rather in manners more esoteric. Like corruption, it appeared difficult to unearth, much less cut the roots of. Moreover, as Athena's intelligence came to learn, this was no fledgling addition — such thing had long settled in Sanctuary, and likely made its way amid authorities. This, one could wager, would've been too deep for the army to unveil on their own.

Back in the Arctic Temple, Isaak casually approached the rubble whereon Hyoga was sure to be found, fallen. Despite the structural damage, that corner of the building stood, and the Bronze Saint brought himself back up with little issue but a few aches. He had several scratches, and his body was yet cracking through layers of thick, hard ice, but this hadn't been enough to stop him in his tracks.

"How did my technique taste, Hyoga?" his former friend asked with a smirk.

The young man did not respond immediately; he released his elbows from the frost and studied the shallow cuts across the exposed skin, apart from cracks displaying the weakness of his Cloth. Even more snowflakes covered his blonde hair and eyebrows, which he rubbed off with the back of a gauntlet.

His blue eyes finally found Isaak's, and he spoke: "I get the contempt you hold against me. My weakness caused great harm, and I find it hard to let go of the guilt myself. After what happened, I try to not allow emotions free reign over my actions, to not let them bring upon more catastrophe." Despite his words growing more aggressive, Cygnus' stance was casual — he did not plan on fighting so quickly. "Still, Isaak, you are a Mariner, and I am a Saint. Death is all we must hand to one another."

"That much we agree on," the other said.

"I yet falter in face of this feeling. I can't bring myself to deliver my duty unto you while ridden with guilt, so…" Hyoga finally raised a spear hand, ever padding it with cold Cosmos. Instead of aiming it forth, he did so inward, towards himself. Kraken first stepped back in preparation, then paused with twisted eyebrows at what was about to unfold.

"You won't," the other uttered in disbelief.

After a deep breath, Hyoga stared his old friend straight on. With a speedy swing, he struck the eye socket on the same side as his foe's wound, and the pang was so sudden that he screamed. Loads of fresh blood rained over Cloth and marble, and a shocked Isaak gasped that such a sight was real.

"Madness — that must be the name of your illness!" yelled the Mariner. "What is the matter with you?"

Hyoga groaned and held the eye, slowly recollecting. The pain pulsated, and when he turned back to the enemy, it was clear he would have trouble acclimating to the injured vision. Voice deep and failing, he said: "Now that we've both suffered the same bane for my mistake, guilt is the least of my worries."

Isaak's shock was washed by fury; this was all a twisted way for that man to let go of a heavy heart, he assumed. "So this is how it is," he commented.

It was in that moment that the South Pacific Pillar was downed by June, and they were briefly distracted by the deafening noise of its crumbling. Both stepped towards an outer end of the courtyard, keeping track of the opponent's movement and increasing the pace each second. Once that cloud of dust pushed to the Arctic like a tsunami, the warriors restarted their battle under its veil.

The glow of their bodies flying from corner to corner could be occasionally seen from behind the covering, and the bomb-like noise of their missed strikes against the floor or the columns in the outskirts was a detail, at least compared to the sound of the falling obelisk. It was only when their icy winds pushed against the dust that visibility began to return in patches.

Hyoga was vicious; even while suffering and bleeding, he fought more fiercely than before, devoid of guilt. Although in his sights was a former dear friend, he defeated these feelings to abide by his role. No matter his love for the enemy, he struck with violence, finally connecting with Isaak's body and sending him off course.

There was only so much the General could do in the state he was in. Now there was no more sign that the foe would soften his blows, and so for once it felt they were unequal. However, they were also unequal in equipment, something Kraken took advantage of by sending his body into Cygnus' direction — the damage on a Scale of such high quality was only a fraction of the damage endured by a Bronze Cloth.

Minutes after the second pillar's devastation, the courtyard's air was close to clear. The two men could fight head-on; where Hyoga's injured sight failed him, he remembered his ailment by Shaka's hand and hunted Isaak as per his Cosmos. This allowed him to be as immediate as thought could be, if not faster, by means of premeditation. As such he avoided the enemy's strides, the snowstorms of his kicks and punches, and when the instance lent itself, he swung a palm into the Mariner's stomach.

The stun he sustained was fleeting, sure, but the Saint's onslaught came uninterrupted. Isaak scrambled to meet the other's gauntlets with his own; those moves were so harsh that Hyoga did not mind his armor cracking or losing shards about. He sacrificed its integrity to achieve victory.

Whereas their battle raged on, June had long left the South Pacific and aimed for the Antarctic Temple, where she expected to meet Shun. To her estrangement, however, not only did its pillar stand proud and undamaged, there was only one Cosmos burning therein. By its intensity, particularity, and how it appeared in tune with the structure's tethering to the Earth above, she knew it to be that of a priest.

With her long, tall leaps along the paths and stairs connecting the South Pacific to the Antarctic, she stopped awhile and focused on the cacophony of powers. Haply her mind played tricks on her, she thought, yet the more she focused, the more her initial theory gained credit.

"I don't sense anyone fighting in the upcoming temple," she said to herself. "Maybe Shun's having trouble taking that thing down...?"

After eyeing the environs further, Chameleon continued on her quick trip, and so she arrived to meet the building in the exact same state Andromeda last found it. Not a single vase had been misplaced.

Indeed, as it did to him, déjà vu stained her consciousness as she crossed a boundary into the place. In her hurry and recklessness, she did not take note of this, and simply went on till she was out in the courtyard. Shun's pink figure was ahead, turned to the giant column, albeit Ikki could be found no more.

"So he is coming up with a plan after all," she whispered and jogged to meet him. "Shun! What's up?"

The boy turned, and his smile was gentle, like she remembered. Something odd about his attitude made her slow her steps, but once he spoke, she was relieved. "I thought you would have had more trouble, but that was fast," he commented.

"That General was a big deal, but I had things my way in the end. Hey, what about the guy from this temple?"

"I cannot say," Shun said with a shrug. "The place is empty, though I understand there is a priest past this stone." He thus turned to the pillar and encroached, almost touching the material that composed it.

"Oh, yeah… yeah!" June realized and came closer as well, tilting to catch his attention. "I noticed there was someone in there when I took it down, because I ended up covered in their blood. I had no way of knowing."

"Well, they had told this before," Andromeda recalled with a nod, "and there is no doubting the energy within. There is someone."

"Mhm," the girl confirmed and crossed her arms in thought. "Do you think there's a way to destroy the pillar without killing the guy inside?"

"That is what I have been planning," the boy told, then he looked back to her and raised the chains in his hands. "Now that you are here, there is something we can try."

June nodded obediently. "What's on your mind?"

"Here." Shun came to her and allowed both ends of the chain to lie atop her wrists; with the subtlest of Cosmos, they swirled around her forearm, slithering ever closer to the upper arms, then shoulders. "If I envelop you in the Andromeda Chain, you can strike into the pillar's weakest section, and then I can pull you as soon as you are too deep. All you have to do is pull the priest out with yourself."

"Eh?" June appeared confounded, though she raised her arms and let the chains extend down, to then tie around the hips and waist. "That sounds, like… kind of difficult, to be honest."

"It is, but I cannot think of an alternative right now, and our time is short."

"You've got a point." As the metal covered a chunk of her torso, Chameleon felt it tighten a tad too far around the flesh and armor, and this made her groan. Worst, it seemed to worsen her bleeding, which had ameliorated until then. "Uhm, hey, Shun…? That's a tad bit too tight."

"I need to make sure it won't lose the grip on you," he explained; the boy's face turned as if to stare at a distant pillar, perhaps the Mainstay, and so June could no longer see the expression he bore. "It should only be for a couple minutes."

"O-okay, but…" another groan escaped the amazon's throat "… that's too tight, it's hard to breathe. Just let it go a bit." But soon her arms were also tightened, more where the flesh was exposed by the Cloth, and she could barely shift around. Shun's Cosmos burned, though it became clear that it lacked some key characteristic — it missed something that made Shun undeniably himself. "Shun? Just loosen up a little." Her insistence got no response, so she forced her weakening voice once she saw the chain reach her throat, and then largely cover the legs and knees. "Sh-Shun… listen to me!"

While these calls went unheard, the war raged, and it was at this point that the spectacle in the Indian Temple took place. Shiryu's sacrificial finalization removed any possibility of that pillar continuing to stand, and, like Krishna and its priest, he fell with it. Athena's men on the front were ecstatic to see this, whereas the Atlanteans felt their stand wavering.

To the Generals, this was no less harmful. Hyoga and Isaak briefly paused their combat when the loudest of booms echoed from that direction, and the former appeared exhausted to see another ally fail; worse, to see one as powerful and disciplined as Krishna be felled, his hopes lied upon Poseidon's shoulders alone. He knew more than ever that the enemy's capabilities were beyond what he imagined.

Since the crumbling was nearer than the previous ones, the Arctic Temple's walls protected decently against the barrage of dust, yet visibility was just as impacted. Kraken was the first to strike after this — while the deafening roar had not subsided — yet Cygnus defended without heed to the state of his Cloth.

Even amid those opaque clouds, the two vied manically, strikes fast and blinding. Isaak strode with a punch, being defended; then he alternated into another swing, defended with damage to the gauntlet; then he rotated such that Hyoga's counterattack glanced past him, flipping a kick that pushed the man back. The Saint protected himself with the arms crossed, shield ahead, whereas the Mariner cut the distance with a wide somersault. This finished with a downward kick, striking with the back of the foot, so strong it finally crashed past the Cygnus Cloth's main defense.

Disregarding pain, the other spiraled and kicked Kraken to the side; the man was pushed and nearly slipped on the partially congealed marble. Not leaving that unattended, Isaak stepped back in and spawned a line of ice spikes, met with an explosion of freezing Cosmos.

"ЛЕДЯНОЙ СМЕРЧ!" Hyoga yelled; the ice was blown to smithereens by an equally cold twister, and with this a great portion of the dust that had not settled was washed out. There was no more point in exploring low visibility.

Since the winds were powerful and sudden enough to send Isaak back, he landed skillfully, many a step afar, once more in front of the obelisk. To him, they were at an impasse; to Hyoga, there was no such thing.

The General's eyes fell upon the crumbled gauntlet, where Cygnus' shield once was. It had been brought to chunks, and lied lifeless on that glistening floor. "As expected, the Cygnus Cloth can't withstand such powerful blows forever," he remarked.

"Why does that matter to you?" the Bronze Saint asked. "You will be dead before you can damage my flesh."

Isaak chuckled with a hint of security, and, as prior, he brought both hands slowly overhead. "We will see about that."

"You were gravely mistaken in one thing, Isaak," Cygnus called out, and with that he lifted both hands above the head as well. "Your technique does not surpass Camus' power."

The other frowned, to think that his old friend had already learned Aquarius' ultimate ability. "You think that old thing will defeat my Aurora Borealis?" he scoffed, maintaining the cynicism.

"The reason why you came up with that technique in the first place was your inability to learn the Aurora Execution," said Hyoga.

"What nonsense! I have devised the ideal ability, I have perfected it! This is as it was always meant to be! You felt it, didn't you?"

Cygnus had good remembrance of that technique's power, but so did he recall the terrifying, almost unbearable strength of Camus. That, he knew, it would never compare to. He spoke: "You have only seen the Aurora Execution from afar, but I have felt it with skin and bone. More than that, I have used it myself, and with it I have slain our very master." Finally, Hyoga's fingers joined together, while Isaak's remained spread in crown-like fashion. "These hands and this Cosmos brought Master's demise, Isaak. It is fitting that you die by them too."

The Mariner would've tried, though it was impossible to hide how appalled he was to learn so. As much as he was taken by such odious feeling, he was taken by oblivion. Thereon the idealism of responsibility and valor appeared small in contrast. "Y-you…" Isaak frowned and babbled for an instant "… you have killed Camus? But how?"

"Be at the ready!" Hyoga's demand brought the young man back to reality. Their Cosmoi lowered in temperature, condensing air past their shapes. Their long strands of hair hardened, oils turning to frost, and a fine snow graced the court.

As Isaak stared at the congealing blood in his old friend's eye, tears ran down his face, promptly turning to icy beads. He met the view of aurorae shining from behind him, but also from the one ahead, and the clash of shines made for a breathtaking sight. He no longer saw the Aquarius from behind, as professor; but rather from the front, as foe. He knew then that, much as Hyoga had lost himself in emotion, so had he, albeit in the process he abandoned much more — long absent was the camaraderie a forlorn orphan could find.

But now, even this he assumed would never be undone. It seemed there was no doubt, as Aquarius' power grew like a titan up ahead. The air was unbearably cold even to him, even past the Scale. Their arms lowered with force, and so all that energy was poured in antagonism.

"AURORA BOREALIS!"

"AURORA EXECUTION!"

This spawned a true blizzard that covered and froze the structure of the entire open area, much of the temple, and even that tough material sealing the Oceanic Pillar. No matter, Kraken's power was no match for Hyoga's glistening gales. Isaak's defeat came analogous to that of Camus, and his last sight no less — he saw that either of them could've been Cygnus, but only one would become the true Aquarius.

The differences in potential were such that, while the General was launched away, the Saint stood strong, only thick layers of ice covering much of his armor and skin. When his eyes opened, he saw the extent of the effect; Isaak was a half-dead body, lips bluish and gaze blank. The pillar's base glimmered with ice crystals, and as soon as the temperatures lifted to their previous state, cracks echoed, a sign of weakness.

The young man approached the one who was sure to die, frost breaking with his calm movement. Fresh blood finally dripped from the wound once more, to thus stain the snow beneath. "I wish it hadn't ended this way, brother," he lamented.

Turning attention to the pillar, of which structure had been well compromised by the extreme shifts in temperature, Hyoga had to only explode with the Seventh Sense once again, striding a punch right through. Predictably, the material crashed, brittle, blowing up to immense shards. Therewith it crushed the priest within as the pillar fell, and with him, the dying Kraken, one of the few remains of Hyoga's past in Siberia.

Dust spread and thus rose, once more to spread across Atlantis. As this happened, a flash announced that the Bronze Saint was gone. His Cosmos did not travel ahead to the North Atlantic, but rather to the core of Sanctuary's worries: he aimed right for the Mainstay.