The silver Knight

Rai stirred in the dim haze of half-awareness, the muffled sounds of movement and voices drifting through the icy walls. Footsteps crunching against frost, murmurs that carried a faint urgency—signs of life beyond the hut's frozen confinement. Yet Rai couldn't move. His limbs refused him, his eyes stayed shut against his will. Breathing was a struggle, each shallow gasp clawing against the cold. He felt death's grip close around him, tight and unyielding.

The room was a tomb of ice. Cracks began to echo faintly, a brittle, snapping sound from somewhere beneath him. Rai knew it was Kaizen. Of course, it would be Kaizen.

Kaizen's breath fogged the air as he stirred, his sheer force of will blooming outward in a faint, glowing veil. The ice around his hulking frame groaned and shattered, brittle shards spraying outward like broken glass. Freed, he stood, his massive form silhouetted against the pale light filtering through the jagged window. His gaze swept the room, pausing on Giro, still frozen mid-hang from the fan. Kaizen's expression was calm, his voice quiet but resolute.

"Everyone," he said, a single word that carried weight like a command.

Rai, still locked in the icy grip, understood the signal. Kaizen had done it. Rai could do the same. Strength seeped back into him, slow but steady, like a fire reigniting in the cold. He calculated his move, sensing the power coiled within. A short burst, controlled. Enough to shatter the ice that held him but not so much as to destroy the fragile structure of the hut.

Kaizen, unaware, moved through the room, his heavy boots crunching on shards of frost. He crouched low, scanning the corners as if searching for something lost beneath the ice table. He was methodical, calm even now.

Rai waited. Kaizen shifted, stepping out of the line of fire. In a flash, Rai unleashed a beam of energy, a sharp burst that carved through the ice with surgical precision. The frozen cocoon shattered, the floor groaning beneath his bare feet as he landed. Steam rose faintly from where the energy had cut, a brief respite of warmth in the icy air.

Kaizen turned, his calm gaze meeting Rai's. There was no surprise, only acknowledgment.

Beyond the jagged hole of the broken window, the world stirred. Rai saw them—figures running, shadows darting against the pale dawn. The sky had not yet yielded to the sun, and the cold still ruled. Something was happening out there, something that pulled the waking world into motion. For now, Rai stood silent, watching, his breath slow and measured in the frigid air.

"It's close to six, I'd guess. What's going on out there?" Rai's voice was low, his gaze lingering on Kaizen, who stood by the jagged window, one boot planted on the icy table.

Kaizen didn't look back immediately. He scanned the commotion outside, the faint light of early dawn catching on his breath. "I can't say. They're panicked, no doubt. But we've got our own problems now." His tone was calm, deliberate, the weight of his words hanging in the cold air.

Rai studied him, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You lost something?"

Kaizen turned at that, his brow furrowing briefly. "No. But as I slept, it hit me. The coffee. How are we supposed to drink it? There's nothing here—no cups, no pots, no sign of anything we need to get it done."

The realization settled like a heavy stone between them. Rai crossed his arms, processing the thought. "You've been searching for the cups, then."

Kaizen gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not just the cups. Anything. Any clue as to how this is supposed to work. Nothing's here, Rai. Nothing. And without it, we can't pass this damn round."

Rai turned toward the broken window, his breath misting against the faint glow outside. The figures running, their hurried, disjointed movements—it all started to make sense. The others had realized the same thing. They weren't running for fear but out of necessity, scrambling for answers.

"We need to wake them up," Rai said finally, his tone decisive. "If we don't figure this out, we're finished."

Kaizen didn't hesitate. His strength was as much instinct as it was deliberate. He crouched low, gripping the frozen slab that had served as his bed. With a sharp motion, he kicked upward, the ice shattering in a spray of shards. The force carried through, cracking through Rai's bed and up to Raze's perch.

Raze yelped as he was launched skyward, limbs flailing as icy debris burst around him. He landed hard on the broken floor, groaning but alive. Rai, efficient as ever, turned to Giro. A quick flick of energy from his fingertips sent a precise beam toward the frozen fan. Giro, still dangling precariously, jolted free and fell onto the table with a resounding thud.

Kaizen stepped back, surveying the room. "That's one way to do it."

Rai smirked faintly, brushing frost from his shoulder. "No time for subtlety. Let's get moving. The clock's running, and we need answers."

The cold pressed in on them, a biting reminder of their predicament. Outside, the chaos continued, figures darting through the icy streets in search of a solution. Inside, the four of them stood amidst the wreckage of their shelter, determination cutting through the freezing air.

"What—what's happening?" Giro shouted, his voice cutting through the icy air. He turned sharply, scanning the room, his eyes wide with alarm. "Is everyone running? Sharks? Did sharks get into the village?" He bolted upright, his panic infectious.

"Calm down," Rai said, his tone measured, his hand raised as if to steady Giro through sheer will. Raze stirred, rubbing frost from his arms, his bleary eyes narrowing as Rai laid out the situation.

Outside, the scene was chaotic but purposeful. The villagers weren't scattering in fear; they were streaming in one direction, all converging on a single point deeper within the village. Rai and the others followed their gaze. The destination was unmistakable—a grand ice structure that loomed over the settlement, its facade worn yet imposing, like the relic of a long-forgotten king's reign.

"That's where they're headed," Raze said, his voice low but eager. "Bet they've got the coffee there. Come on!"

"Wait," Kaizen said, stepping in front of Raze and holding out an arm to block his path. His sharp eyes caught the blue-haired girl—number 12—rushing past them. Her breath came in short, desperate bursts, and her clothes hung loosely, hastily thrown on. He moved to intercept her, planting himself firmly in her way.

"What do you want?" she snapped, her words clipped, her urgency palpable. She tugged at her shirt, the fabric stretched tight over her frame as she tried to adjust it on the run.

"Why is everyone heading that way?" Kaizen asked, his voice calm but commanding, cutting through the chaos around them.

She paused, frustration flickering in her eyes before she answered. "Someone stole all the coffee," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "They've hoarded it in that building. They're saying you can get it back if you give some of your veil to the thief."

Rai's outfit waved as he processed the information, his sharp mind dissecting the implications. Kaizen turned back to him, his shoulders squared, his face unreadable. "She's blabbering. What do we do?"

Rai didn't hesitate, his tone steady, decisive. "We go. If it's true, we'll handle it. If not, we might still find a lead."

Kaizen nodded reluctantly, stepping aside to let Raze through. Without another word, they moved into the flow of the crowd, their footsteps crunching against the frozen ground, the towering ice palace growing larger with every step.

Rai and his friends arrived at the building, their breaths visible in the icy air, mingling with the muted hum of a gathering crowd. The girl had followed them, her quiet steps keeping pace as the group approached. The structure was modest in height—just a single floor above the ground—but it dominated the village skyline, its sheer size and solid form lending it an air of authority. For once, there was a door that appeared functional, not some icebound obstacle.

Inside, the room was austere, its simplicity almost unsettling. A line of villagers stood silently, their postures tense, their eyes fixed on the scene at the front. Number 1 and Number 3 stood in charge, like wardens over a strange ritual. Between them hovered a dark, amorphous object, black as pitch and shifting like smoke caught in a windless chamber. It pulsed faintly, alive with an unnatural energy.

Jaxor was there, stepping forward in measured strides. He extended a hand toward the black mass, his fingers hovering near its surface. The object shimmered, its texture absorbing his presence as though feeding on his very essence. When Jaxor withdrew, Number 3 handed him a cup of coffee. A faint smile crossed his face, sharp and fleeting, before he turned and walked away, the cup warming his hands.

Kaizen's voice broke the silence. "Jaxor must've cast his veil onto it," he said, his tone low, calculated.

Raze frowned, the lines of confusion etched deeply on his face. "Is it absorbing it? What is that thing?"

"Probably," came an unexpected voice—calm, familiar, and unsettling. It wasn't Giro's. Rai turned slightly, his gaze narrowing as he recognized Zane among the line of villagers. Zane smirked faintly, his presence like a shadow that refused to be ignored.

The group shifted subtly, their roles defined in the tableau: Rai stood still, hands in his pockets, his face unreadable. Raze fidgeted, restless and smoldering. Giro scratched his head absently, his bewilderment plain. Zane, always one step ahead, carried a sly confidence that grated on the others. Kaizen remained silent, his stoicism unbroken, while the girl—whose name no one had thought to ask—stood small but unshaken, her expression strangely hopeful.

As their turn came, Rai acted first. Without hesitation, he raised a hand and fired a controlled beam of energy at the black object. The impact lit the air briefly, but the dark mass swallowed it whole, its surface rippling like water catching light.

Raze followed, stepping closer, his palms radiating heat that hissed against the frigid air. Flames licked at the black mass, clawing at its surface, yet the object consumed the energy without resistance, its presence unyielding.

"It's taking everything," Rai murmured, his voice as calm as it was sharp, cutting through the charged silence of the room.