Snowflakes and fallen leaves danced around the siblings as they played in the yard, their laughter echoing softly through the sleepy village under the first morning's sunlight. Ivor proudly held the fang shaped wooden necklace in his hands, the big crimson eyes shining with fascination and responsibility.
"Look, Kiv," the boy happily said, bringing the necklace a little bit down so his younger and short sister could see it better. "Looks old and frail, doesn't it? But Skalbard, the Ice Spirit, lives inside it! Father said that one day, when I come of age, it will be mine."
The blonde girl leaned closer, her big emerald eyes filled with curiosity and admiration, holding her urge to touch that old but extremely valued family possession. "Wow, Ivor! Can it talk to you? What does it look like? Is it big? Is it beautiful?"
Ivor chuckled, his young mind painting a vivid picture of the majestic wolf spirit. "It's a very beautiful woman and also a wolf! She is very, very big. She has long hair that looks like silk, eyes that shine like stars and fur as white as the snow that falls here in winter. And her wolf form has a golden crown and many, many green crystals on its back and paws! And yes, she can talk to me. But only when she wants to."
"She's real, then? Not just a story that Father tells?" Her shiny eyes widened even more.
"No, sis, she's very real. And one day, when I'm older, I'll protect the village with her, just like our father does now."
"Cool! What does she tell you?"
"That she doesn't like cowards!"
"Uhhh, we better not tell her that you are afraid of squirrels then…" She scratched her little head, sincerely concerned.
"T-t-that's not true! I-I'm not afraid of them anymore," he blushed to his ears and covered the fang with his hands as if trying to prevent the little secret from reaching the ears of the spirit living inside.
…
"Protect the villagers!" A Novagraadian guard shouted amidst the chaos.
The invasion came suddenly, like a lightning bolt descending over the small city of Novagraad. The once peaceful village was now overrun by the shouts of Biovolt's hired mercenaries, their heavy footsteps sulling the snow, the metallic sizzling of their guns and the terrified cries of the villagers. Resisting them was impossible. Their armaments, organization and technology were just too advanced. Novagraad's small security force didn't stand a chance; like deers fighting lions, the town's guards were overpowered and captured in a matter of minutes.
Ivor and Kiv clutched each other as the terrible sounds of chaos erupted outside, the former holding the latter firmly against his chest in a protective hug. Their father stood defiantly at the office's entrance, trying to hold back the doors, but the enemy numbers were overwhelming.
"Stay quiet, stay hidden," their mother whispered urgently while her trembling hands placed the children inside the small cabinet covered by the shadows. "No matter what happens, don't come out."
The office's door burst open and armed men poured inside like sea water claiming a sinking vessel. Ivor's father fought bravely, but he was quickly overpowered, forced to the ground by the soldiers. Ivor's heart pounded in his chest, fear and helplessness shining in his widened crimson eyes as he watched his father struggle from the small slit.
Then a man stepped forward, his presence sending a chill through the room. Purple hair elegantly combed backwards, pale skin, an expensive and technological suit embracing, decorating and protecting his tall body. A mask obscured the upper half of his face, replacing his eyes with malevolent red glows. In his hands, he held a strange device that pulsed with an eerie energy.
The masked man approached Ivor's father, who was being held down by the soldiers. "Where is the necklace?" he demanded, his voice calm, cold and devoid of emotion. The man remained silent, defiant even in the face of danger. The masked one gestured to the soldiers; they searched and wrenched the necklace from Ivor's father's neck, placing it on the man's hand. His lips curved down in disappointment. "An old piece of wood? No wonder I had so much trouble finding it."
"No!" Ivor shouted, breaking free from his hiding place. Kiv clung to his arm, but he couldn't stay silent any longer. "Leave Skalbard alone!"
The masked man ignored the child. His mind completely focused on the small artifact in his hand, planting it inside the device. A smirk filled his lips when a silver light irradiated from the device; ice started to form around them, plunging the office inside a latent, gradually intensifying snow storm. "So, this is the Ice Spirit's power," he mused. "How fitting."
He activated the device, and a dark energy began to swirl around the necklace, reflected on the man's cruel complexion and smile. Skalbard's spirit, trapped within, resisted fiercely. The air grew extremely cold and dry, and frost began to spread across the floor, furniture and walls, the power of the spirit fighting against the dark magic.
Ivor's father struggled harder, desperate to stop the man. "You can't do this!" he shouted. "The Ice Spirit is our protector!"
The masked man laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Well, not anymore."
With a final, wrenching pull, the device wrestled Skalbard's spirit from the necklace. The room was filled with a blinding light as the beast's howl of pain and fury echoed through the air. The temperature plummeted, and the walls creaked under the sudden drop in pressure. In a last act of defiance and resistance, the Ice Spirit released a vast explosion of ice, her power surging out in all directions. The force of the blast threw the soldiers back, and the masked man staggered, barely holding his ground. The office's structure collapsed, and a mighty roar filled the air as the walls and ceiling crumbled on top of them. Ice and debris cascaded down from the building, burying the office under its weight.
Protected and removed from the scene by the soldiers just before the structure collapsed on top of their heads, the masked man cursed, but his eyes gleamed with triumph. "We have what we came for," he said, signaling to the troops to retreat. They left the village's premises in disarray, the once-proud home of the Ice Spirit now a frozen ruin.
It was only almost half an hour later that Ivor finally managed to get rid of the heavy mass of rubble locking the siblings inside the cabinet. The strong recipient protected them from the vast majority of the damage. "Kiv!" He shook his sister, who slowly opened her eyes, seemingly fine albeit stunned. "Dad!" Then he left the hideout to search for his parents amidst the fallen structure. "Mom!"
He spotted his father's long brown hair sprouting from beneath a heavy pile of debris. His heart raced and he sprinted to the place. His knees met the ragged ground and his small hands dug frantically into the rubble, desperation preventing him from feeling the wounds gathering on his delicate fingers. He finally found the couple, lifelessly clung to each other, exactly as they were when their father hugged their mother in a last attempt to shield her from the collapsing structure.
He shook them. None of them moved. They were as cold as the ice around them, as if they had become part of the office's wreckage itself.
"Mom! Dad!"
His desperate scream echoed through the ruins.
…
…
…
And just like that, he was robbed of everything.
His innocence, his feeling of safety, his dream of partnering with the Ice Spirit, and ultimately his parents.
All buried beneath the office's ruins, in a blink of an eye, when Biovolt raided Novagraad.
Crimson eyes gazed at the old, worn photograph. The colors have almost all faded, leaving the smiling faces of his parents perpetuated in black, white, rosy and yellow, like an eternal sunset. He could barely remember their voices, or how their embrace felt like. The creak of the door opening attracted his side eye to the young woman approaching, the only remotely important thing that was left. Even this thing didn't go unscarred. He looked at her face; young, beautiful, but cold, emotionless and aloof, the once bright eyes and magic smile replaced by an unreadable stoicism, her soul forever crippled by a silent sadness.
She stopped behind his chair and joined her hands in front of her stomach in her usual formal posture, like she always did when she'd try to reason with him. Ivor sighed, already annoyed.
"Do you really intend to keep them imprisoned? I fail to understand how this benefits us." She started, and he rolled his eyes.
"You fail to understand a lot of things," he spat. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? I want to teach these vermin a lesson. They dared to treat me as if I were some stray dog of their kind. And besides…" He placed the photograph back on the desk. His eyes narrowed slightly, irritation flickering in his red gaze. "I don't want that stupid redhead snooping around and circling my beast."
"I insist that you rethink your strategy. They are citizens from the neighboring country and renowned beybladers. It has come to my attention that one of their team members awaits them in Saint Petersburg, and it won't be long until he notices their prolonged absence and files a report. Then we will have the Russian government and the Beyblade Battle Association targeting Novagraad." She frowned upon noticing that he was barely listening to her. "Ivor, our village doesn't need such enemies, nor can it withstand them."
"You are sooo damn boring, sis." The male sibling let out a frustrated sigh, thinking if he could just throw her out of the window and pray for a bird to catch her and take her away. "Have you already forgotten what their masters have done to us? To our family, to Skalbard, to this town? Don't you want to see them suffer a little?"
"I don't like them. But I like even less the idea of inviting trouble to our peaceful home."
"Argh, seriously, you need to chill!" He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. Then he stood up and approached the window, the vast picture of the village beyond the glass reflected in his eyes. "In any case, they won't be locked up for long. Just enough for them to learn who rules this place and what happens to those who don't obey. Besides, I will soon claim Skalbard. When that happens, what that wretch does or doesn't do won't be my business anymore."
"You sound so confident. What makes you think that, as soon as she recovers, the Ice Spirit won't return to him by her own volition?"
"Are you even listening to me? That's precisely what I want to prevent!" His eyes flashed with anger.
"You can't control her judgment."
"Can't I?"
A moment of silence stretched between them, the weight of Ivor's words hanging in the air like a dead, heavy and fetid corpse.
"...So, if you are unable to conquer it, you intend to force it," Kiv's eyes narrowed, her tone as cold as the very plains surrounding them. "Again."
"If necessary." Ivor's expression darkened, his voice filled with a somber and poisonous determination. Kiv swallowed dry, that awful feeling of something breaking inside her, of a line crossed to the point of no return. "We've lost everything, Kiv. I invested every single penny this city had in that recalling program. I can't bring our parents back, but at the very least I won't lose Skalbard again. No matter who I have to defeat, no matter who I have to betray, no matter what hard decision I have to make, or whatever dirty trick I have to pull. Nobility and kindness only brought weakness and ruin to this village and to our family, and you saw it yourself. The Ice Spirit will never leave Novagraad again, I promise you that. And it's time you stopped your useless nagging and picked a side."
Like an invisible blade, those words crossed between them, tracing a line, severing worn out strands.
"Don't worry, brother," she muttered after a brief moment of funeral silence. "I know, very well, where my allegiance lies."
The male sibling's expression softened fairly. He turned on his heels and approached his sister, gently placing his hands on her cheeks, caressing one of them with a short movement of his thumb.
"It's not that I doubt you," he said, reading the wrong message in the deep sternness in her eyes. "I know you are a loving sister and do your best for our cause. It's just that you are extremely annoying sometimes."
As cold and motionless as a statue, she didn't respond. Embracing that opportunity to escape the dull subject, he placed a kiss on her forehead and then went for the door.
"I'll be at the stadium," he said with an insolent grin and a wave of his hand. "If someone asks for me, tell them I turned into a jelly pot and vanished."
The door closed behind her.
Kiv's eyes slowly descended to the old photograph on the desk.
What would they have said?
…
Bryan's brow furrowed slightly, annoyance flickering in his complexion as he stared intently at Tala. He knew that somber look—the self-imposed punishment Tala inflicted upon himself whenever things went wrong.
The boys sat on the floor in the suffocating stillness, their backs against the wall, each lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. For the leader, whose arms were firmly crossed in front of his chest and head down, the sting of their near-freedom was especially sharp, guilt gnawing at him relentlessly whenever he remembered that he was the one who had failed them. They had been close to escaping, but his moment of distraction—another one—had cost them precious seconds, allowing the guards to spot them and swiftly recapture them.
It annoyed Bryan because he understood that Tala's relentless sense of responsibility sometimes led him to blame himself unnecessarily.
Then, he decided to break that oppressive silence.
"Hey, do you remember that time back in the first Biovolt training facility?" Bryan's voice cut through the gloom, a hint of dark amusement playing in his tone.
Tala looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Which time, Bryan? There were plenty of memorable moments," he replied dryly.
Bryan smirked. "You know, that time when Boris thought it would be a great idea to have us train with those malfunctioning beyblades. The ones that had a nasty habit of exploding if you pushed them too hard."
Spencer snorted, a rare grin spreading across his face. "Oh yeah, I remember that. We were but brats and Boris was already so keen on pushing us to our limits. I think he almost pushed himself over the edge when one of those beyblades exploded right in his face."
"Then we decided to unleash them in the kitchen to teach that funny cook a lesson and he resigned after we accidentally blew up half the pantry." Bryan chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Poor guy tried so hard to explain to Boris that it was all our fault, but the old bastard never believed him."
Tala couldn't help but crack a smile at the memory. "Yeah, and you, Bryan, you were the one who figured out how to rig them to explode on command. That was a stroke of genius, though I don't think Boris appreciated it much."
"Hey, it was his own fault for putting us through that hell. He wanted us to learn to handle unpredictable situations, right? Well, I think he got more than he bargained for."
The locked room and the never-ending waiting seemed suddenly less tormenting. Despite the shadows cast by their past, there was a strange solace in revisiting those moments during dire times. It whispered to them of resilience forged through merciless trials, a testament to their strength and unity in adversity.
There was almost nothing they couldn't survive.
Tala leaned back against the cold wall, the hint of a smile still on his lips. "Yeah, we've been through a lot together. We'll get through this too."
Spencer smiled softly and Bryan nodded, his hands resting at the back of his neck. "Damn right we will. And who knows, maybe after getting Wolborg back we'll find another way to mess with Ivor while we're at it. Just like old times," the slate-haired blader proposed.
Then, the sound of a card sliding in the door lock outside immediately drew their attention and hostile gazes to the metallic entrance.
"Put this on and follow me, quick." The blonde girl rushed inside the room to their surprise. She immediately approached Tala and unloaded a heavy pack of clothes on his arms, almost burying the boy hadn't he quickly stood up. There were no traces of her guards this time. "You two stay here. Put some volume beneath his blanket and go to your beds. If anyone enters, pretend that you are sleeping."
"What are you doing? Where are we going?" The redhead inquired with a visible mix of alarm, distrust and confusion in his stern face, holding the pack of clothes as if it would grow teeth and bite him anytime.
"I'm taking you to your bit-beast."
His eyes widened in shock. "What? Why the hell would you do that?"
"There's no time to explain," she said urgently, her expression serious. "There is a meeting taking place at the security office as we speak. All guards are attending, and most of the villagers have already retreated to their houses for the night. This is the best chance you have to leave and move around the village unnoticed, but we must act fast."
"That's rich, coming from the very same jerk that's keeping us locked here." The harsh words came from Bryan, silver eyes narrowed with brash suspicion. "Needless to say it smells like a fat trap."
"You are already trapped. What else could happen?" she glared at him with a cold side eye.
"You expect us to believe that, after everything you and your boss have done, now you suddenly want to help us?" Spencer asked from his position, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
"On top of that, does he know what you're doing?" Tala added to the inquiry.
The girl's stern eyes closed and her hands closed a little bit harder in front of her belly, her dire silence speaking volumes.
Kiv shrugged. It was naïve of her to think that, after foiling their escape attempt and treating them with disdain in front of the guards, they would easily trust her intentions. If she wanted to achieve something with those brave, unsubmissive boys, even for their own benefit, letting go of her arrogance, mitigating their distrust and offering some explanation would be necessary.
"I don't agree with my brother's methods," she said after a while of apparent deep thinking, trying to soften her expression, disengage her pride and mend that imperious picture they certainly nurtured of her. "And I certainly don't think that imprisoning unarmed, harmless visitors serves this village's best interests. But Ivor sees an exceptional threat in you and once an idea makes way into his mind, it's extremely difficult to thwart it."
"So you decided to betray him," he stated, lifting one brow. "Why?"
She turned to Tala, making her best to swallow the resentment injected by his words. "I have my own reasons to go against my brother and bring you to the Ice Spirit. You can refuse to come with me, but I'm afraid I won't create you another opportunity. It's up to you, Tala."
The answer took its time to come. The boys exchanged wary glances, their silent dialogue weaving unseen between them. When she finally assumed her offer had been declined and bitterly turned around to leave, Tala's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Fine. I don't trust you, but it's not like I have another option," he concluded.
Spencer turned to him with concern. "You sure, Tala?"
"If there's even a fraction of a chance that what she's saying is true and I might reach out to Wolborg, then it's worth the risk. And if it's a trap, well, it's not like I have anything else to lose," he stated bitterly.
"If you're lying to us," Bryan's intimidating figure appeared in the girl's flank, attracting her side gaze, his eyes as threatening as sharp knives. "If this is some kind of trick and anything happens to Tala, you'll regret it. I promise you that."
"I cannot promise a safe or even a successful journey," she replied emotionlessly, "but I will do my best to bring your friend back safely."
"Let's get on with it," the redhead decreed, finally maneuvering the pack of clothes.
"Good luck, Tala. I wish there was something we could do," Spencer muttered, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his arms once more.
…
The clothes consisted of a two-layered long dark cape with a hood, similar to the one the girl always wore, to help conceal the boy's identity, act as a camouflage and keep him warm. Tala followed his captor closely, their footsteps echoing softly in the silent corridor. The cold caressed their faces as they exited the building and were greeted by the snowing night.
The village was eerily quiet, the houses, roads and monuments covered by a layer of white, the howling wind and swirling snowflakes making it difficult for them to see their path clearly. He followed her as swiftly as possible through the narrow streets. Tala glanced around, taking mental notes of any special detail in the small buildings around them that could be used as landmarks, like a different window format, a sign on the wall or a plant hanging somewhere, memorizing the way as best he could. The blonde took a sharp turn, leading them down a winding alleyway that opened into a hidden path lined with tall, snow-covered pines. The thick canopy above provided some shelter from the biting wind, but the cold was relentless. The redhead could see his breath forming misty clouds in the air, each exhale a reminder of the harsh conditions they were braving.
Although that weather fell on his body like a mother's embrace, being used to it and to a life of harsh training and enduring, the same could not be said regarding the girl acting as his guide; as they moved deeper into the village's outskirts, Tala couldn't help but notice her increasing struggle with the environment. Her steps were becoming slower, she occasionally stumbled on the uneven ground, and the fact that she had to hold that massive dress to be able to move properly through the snow didn't help at all. It was clear that, although living amidst the ice, she was not used to facing such harsh conditions directly nor performing these kinds of stealth, hurried movement. This realization worried Tala; her clumsy pace increased their risk of being discovered.
"Keep up," he urged, his voice edged with frustration and concern.
"I'm trying!" she snarled back, seemingly more annoyed than himself.
She suddenly halted and motioned for the boy to stop. Voices could be heard nearby, and the beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness. The girl quickly led them behind a large stack of firewood, pressing her back against it as the guards' footsteps drew closer.
"Stay quiet," she whispered, her eyes narrowing at the light moving around the vehicle that just parked.
Tala nodded but couldn't resist a retort. "I don't need you to tell me that."
The guards disembarked and paused, their lights sweeping over the area. Tala's heart pounded in his chest as the beam passed inches from their hiding spot. One of the guards complained about something or someone that went missing, and after what felt like an eternity, they finally retreated to the truck and drove away. Kiv exhaled softly and peeked out from behind the firewood, motioning for Tala to follow.
"I hope you know what you're doing," he hissed as they crouched behind a snow-covered bench, her inexperience screaming in every movement and decision she made. Every so often, they had to stop and hide as more guards patrolled the village, seemingly searching for something important. Each close encounter heightened the tension between them. "You said there'd be no guards on duty."
"I don't know what happened," she took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Nevertheless, we can manage this."
They moved again, but their luck ran out when they turned a corner and almost collided with a pair of guards. The lass froze, her eyes wide with shock, but the redhead reacted quickly. He grabbed her arm with one hand, covered her mouth with the other to block any squeals and yanked her into a narrow alcove hidden behind a house.
The guards' voices were just outside. Tala held his breath, feeling Kiv's tense and stiff figure beneath his covering and immobilizing embrace. "Just relax and stay still," he whispered through gritted teeth, trying to keep his patience and focus. The guards lingered, their conversation nerve-wrackingly close. His mind raced with the fear of being discovered, trying to look around for any other exits or covers they could take to no avail. If the soldiers spotted him hiding with Ivor's sister under his grip like a hostage, that would surely cost him his neck.
Finally, they moved on, their voices fading into the distance. He waited a moment longer before peeking out, ensuring the coast was clear.
"Let's go," he said, releasing her. She almost fell, but managed to keep her base. Blushing and quietly recovering her breath and strength stolen by the fear, she discreetly glanced at him with an expression of irritation, embarrassment and reluctant gratitude.
They resumed their journey, finally leaving the village's invisible borders and ascending the winding, rugged and steep mountain path in the wilderness.
The air grew bitterly icy, whipping around them with a violent chill that bit through their clothes. Snowflakes, driven by gusts of wind, danced in a chaotic flurry, obscuring their view of the village glimmering faintly not so far. Eventually a massive and very old stone staircase towered ahead, its steps leading upwards towards the summit.
Their quick ascent didn't last long. A muffled sound made Tala stop and look back to find Kiv far behind, idle on her feet, resting her weight on her hands braced against her knees, her heavy panting visible in the frosty air.
"What's wrong?" he asked, albeit already knowing the answer: the tough journey with running, hiding and fearing had taken its toll on the girl. "Don't tell me this is the farthest you can go."
"M-my apologies," she blushed, looking at him with a defeated face. "Keep going. I'll catch up later."
Suspicion grew heavily on his face, his eyes narrowing as those of a wolf. Before he could fire the harsh inquiry ready on his lips, she pointed her finger towards the end of the staircase. "You are nearly there. The path ahead is straightforward. Once you reach the top of the stairs, Skalbard… I mean, Wolborg's vessel will be visible just ahead."
He turned to better face the girl, trying to measure the honesty in her words and decipher her obscure motivations.
Her fine clothes and hairstyle, the way she moved, her lack of resilience and her general formal demeanor all screamed of a life of privilege, power and comfort. Yet here she was, stumbling on rocks and snow to guide him through a perilous journey in the midst of an icy night. What drove her to take such risks? There was definitely something behind those distant eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something—concern, determination, perhaps even guilt? He couldn't be sure.
"If what you're saying is true and I actually get my bit-beast back, well, needless to say, your brother's gonna be seriously mad at you."
She didn't respond, arranging herself to sit on the cold stairs and rest. He scowled. There was a lot she wasn't telling him, and he didn't like it.
"Earlier you said that you had your reasons to betray him," he insisted, his tone demanding. "Why is that? What did he do?"
"Nothing. Yet." She said simply, frowning, seemingly lost in concerned thoughts.
"Yet? You better start making sense. Is Ivor planning something stupid?" He pressed further, but the repeated absence of answers made his blood boil. "Just bloody answer me!"
"You are wasting valuable time," she muttered back and slid her face away, avoiding his growing anger. "Go. I will be there shortly."
Frustration bubbled up inside him, and he clenched his fists. He wanted to keep pressing and find the truth, but the urgency of his mission pulled him back. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Deciphering her game would have to wait. Without another word, he turned and continued up the stairs.
…
The full moon cast a spectral glow over the snow-draped pines, their branches laden with the weight of winter, shining like pearls. His eyes were immediately drawn to that massive, imposing block of ice glistening near the cliff, its crystalline facets reflecting the celestial dance above. The village lay far below, a hushed tableau obscured by swirling snowflakes and the haunting melody of the wind.
There was something buried and distorted deep inside the block, some kind of rustic accessory. As he approached the icy edifice to investigate, a shiver ran through him—not from the relentless chill, but from an inexplicable unease.
Behind him, unseen yet palpable, he felt a strong presence. Slowly, he turned, meeting Wolborg's eyes, staring deeply at his soul.
They glowed with an otherworldly intensity, peering through the veil of darkness like twin moons in the night sky, their fierce stare fixed upon him with an instinctual focus. The giant wolf finished materializing, imposing and formidable. Her fur shimmering white almost blending with the snow, her piercing blue eyes, exposed fangs and the sharp, turquoise crystals on her back and legs glinting dangerously as she moved, shortening the distance between her and her blader.
"Wolborg!" he called, and before he could react, she moved forward in a swift blur that looked like she was pouncing on him. His heart pounded as he anticipated impact, but instead, the majestic wolf passed through him like a phantom breeze. Stunned, he spun around to face her, his breath caught in his throat.
"Something's wrong," he concluded as he watched the glimmering spirit beast walk through the snow and approach the cliff, standing still at the edge, its head and eyes now pointed towards the village barely visible far below, seemingly suddenly oblivious to the boy's presence. "Wolborg, it's me, Tala! I've come to retrieve you."
The wolf lay down at the cliff's outline with godly grace, still watching the city, unresponsive.
Tala eyes darkened. "Wolborg!" He tried again a third time, raising his voice instinctively as the assumption that the bit-beast wasn't hearing nor seeing him somehow grew in his mind. He took a few cautious steps towards it. "What's wrong? Can you hear me?"
The spirit turned its head slightly, only enough for its glowing side eye to reach Tala.
"As clear as your persistence."
He heard her voice for the first time, echoing from her motionless, closed mouth, directly into his soul.
The coldest, most daunting sound he had ever heard.
Was that… indifference?