The hall still burned.
Flames clung stubbornly to the cracked stone walls, their glow fading into deep orange embers. Smoke drifted through the air in slow, ghost-like curls. The ground beneath their feet was scorched black, marked by the aftermath of a power that had nearly torn the arena apart.
At the center of it all stood Angel.
Her chest rose and fell heavily, each breath dragging in heat and ash. Her arms trembled faintly, the last traces of fire flickering across her fingertips before finally dying out. Sweat mixed with soot on her skin, her strength pushed to its limit.
Across from her, Dr. Louis stood—calm. Unshaken.
He brushed a bit of ash from his shoulder, as if the storm of flames had been nothing more than a passing breeze. His sharp eyes locked onto Angel, narrowing slightly. Then, slowly, a small smile appeared.
"Enough," he said.
His voice cut cleanly through the silence.
"You are… good."
Angel steadied herself, her legs almost giving way beneath her. Still, she forced herself to stand tall. The fire may have faded—but the determination in her eyes hadn't.
"You can fight me," Dr. Louis continued, his tone quieter now, almost thoughtful, "but first… we need to defeat someone else."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then suddenly—Peter laughed.
A short, disbelieving laugh. Elsa followed, soft at first. Even Angel let out a quiet breath that turned into a faint smile. The tension broke, just for a second. A rare moment of relief after chaos.
"Go and rest now," Dr. Louis said, turning away. "Tomorrow… we continue."
Angel walked back to her room slowly.
Every step felt heavier than the last. The battle still echoed in her body—the heat, the force, the overwhelming surge of power she barely understood.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, eyes shut. Silence filled the space. No fire. No battle. Just her breathing.
After a moment, she moved to her desk and picked up her journal.
Her hand trembled slightly as she began to write.
She wrote everything.
The flames.
The fear.
The moment her power took over—and the moment she took it back.
She wrote until her thoughts emptied onto the page, until the storm inside her settled into something quieter.
Closing the journal, she exhaled softly and walked to the window.
The night sky stretched endlessly above her. Stars shimmered—calm, distant, untouched by the chaos below.
"Do you know my past?" she whispered.
Her voice was soft, almost lost to the night.
"I know you can't answer… but I like to ask questions anyway."
A small pause.
"Good night."
She lay down, exhaustion pulling her into sleep. Slowly, gently, the world faded.
But Elsa remained awake.
Her room felt different tonight.
Too quiet.
Too still.
She turned onto her side, staring at the faint light spilling in from the window. Her thoughts wouldn't stop.
Aquaria.
The name echoed in her mind.
The place they would go tomorrow. The place where answers waited… and dangers she couldn't even imagine.
Her chest tightened.
What if they weren't ready?
What if Angel's power wasn't enough?
What if she wasn't enough?
Elsa sat up suddenly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. The shadows in her room stretched longer than they should, bending unnaturally along the walls.
Then—
Something moved.
A shadow.
Silent.
Slow.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
She turned.
A woman stood in her room.
Still. Watching.
"Why are you in my room? Go out!" Elsa demanded.
Her voice tried to sound strong—but fear slipped through.
The woman didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Slowly… her eyes began to glow.
Red.
Not like Angel's fire.
This was colder. Darker. Something deeper—something wrong.
Elsa's breath hitched.
She tried to stand—
But her body didn't move.
Panic surged instantly.
Her fingers twitched. Her legs refused to respond. Her voice—gone.
The woman stepped closer.
Elsa felt it.
A pressure.
Not on her body—on her mind.
It crept in slowly, like a shadow slipping under a door. Wrapping around her thoughts. Tightening.
"No…"
The word never left her lips.
She tried to fight it. Tried to hold on. But her thoughts slipped, one by one, like sand falling through her fingers.
The room blurred.
The shadows stretched.
The red glow grew brighter.
Closer.
Closer—
The woman leaned in.
Right beside her.
And whispered—
"Your mind… belongs to me now."
Everything went still.
Elsa's body froze completely.
Her eyes remained open—but they weren't hers anymore.
Somewhere deep inside, she screamed.
But no one could hear it.
Outside, the night remained calm.
Inside, something had changed.
Something dangerous.
Something irreversible.
Far away—in her room—
Angel suddenly stirred.
Her eyes snapped open.
A faint glow flickered in them.
A strange feeling rushed through her chest.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She sat up slowly, her heartbeat quickening.
"…Elsa?"
Silence answered her.
But deep inside—
The fire within her flared again.
And somewhere in the darkness…
someone else smiled.