When Vastarael opened his eyes, it was not to blood, not to snow, nor to the scent of charred stone and shattered exoskeletons.
It was the scent of coziness in Erna's Room.
He sat up immediately, his heart beating fast. His body didn't ache. His wounds were gone. His chest wasn't heavy. He wasn't coughing blood.
He wasn't awake.
His eyes narrowed as he slowly stood up and looked down at his hands.
"This is a dream. That's the only explanation. I collapsed after the slash... I remember—"
"You remember sending Adelasta a message," came a soft voice from across the room.
He turned his head and saw Erna, seated cross-legged on her bed. She was wrapped in a loose black gown, her bare feet tucked beneath her, long strands of moving shadow raven hair cascading over her shoulder. Erna smiled faintly.
"You're here because I'm asleep too. You collapsed and connected to me somehow. Maybe it's because you're the Obsidian Towermaster now?"
"Then that message got through... She got it."
"She did. And she'll act accordingly."
She then looked away, her fingers running across a glowing rune hovering midair above her lap. It was flickering. That alone made Vastarael's blood freeze.
"Vastarael, the time has come. The Frozen God is breaking free."
"Who sealed him in the first place? Was it one of the Nexuses? Or you?"
Erna shook her head slowly.
"No. It was Spheraphase herself, one of the Supreme Entities. The World herself."
Silence rang in Vastarael's ears like a deafening bell. He stepped back slightly. His fingers clenched unconsciously.
"Wait… Spheraphase? The Spheraphase? The mind of the world? The one all First Second Generation and life on the planet were born from?"
Erna nodded.
"Yes. Her."
The air thickened. The dream darkened. Erna's voice softened even more, tinged with memory.
"You remember that I escaped Dimensium to escape my husband. I fled across the stars, wounded and hunted. And when I landed here... I died. He killed me."
Vastarael's mouth opened slightly but he said nothing. Erna continued.
"But before my death, I managed to pull off one last act. My Phantasm power scattered across the world, forming the Isles. And my body… became this place. The Erna Isles is me. My grave."
Vastarael nodded slowly.
"I knew that. But the Frozen God should've left, right? After that, why would need to stay here?"
Erna's expression hardened.
"No. He couldn't. He was injured too. I was a Phantasm you know. Even though he managed to kill me, he was in a worse shape. I made sure of that. And as he tried to flee… my eight adopted children arrived. All Forgotten Ranked in their own right. They had sensed my death and came not just to mourn but to destroy him."
Vastarael whispered, "But…"
Erna gave a slow nod. "Yes. But he was smarter and stronger than they anticipated. He tricked them."
"How?"
"He told them that if they gave him their power, he could revive her. That he knew how. But it was a lie. When they drew close... he imprisoned them instead. He used their power to try and bargain with Spheraphase's consciousness to let him leave the world. And he said: 'Let me go. Let me leave. I'll take nothing. I'll even guard the Isles in penance.'"
"But she saw through it."
"She didn't kill him. Gods cannot kill Supreme Entities because of power difference. And she didn't want him to die without punishment."
Vastarael's mouth went dry. "So she sealed him?"
"She summoned Primofrost, one of the seven Primordial Elements. She forged it around his essence and turned it into a prison known as the Fallen Bridge."
"And that's how he became known as the Frozen God."
She looked at him now, directly into his eyes.
"And now, after 300 years… he is breaking free."
The air in the dream room quivered.
"There are two ways to break through a Primordial Element. First, use its antithesis. And in Primofrost's case, that's Neverfire. And the second?" He asked.
"To fully integrate with the Primordial Element and become part of, harmonizing with its structure. And once you're integrated... you can reshape it."
"..."
"And that's what's happened. After the Destras Cataclysm, he quietly began absorbing the Primofrost around him."
Vastarael's eyes widened in horror.
"And now… he has full integration. That means he can… use it?"
"He doesn't need Neverfire anymore," Erna whispered. "He is the ice now."
A silence passed between them that felt like the breath before a world ended.
Erna stared out the window again, where stars seemed to spin faster now. Her next words were almost too soft to hear.
"If he breaks free… this world will face a storm it has never prepared for. Not even gods can stop him."
Vastarael slowly walked to the window, standing beside her. His reflection shone faintly against the crystal. His face was calm, but his fists clenched.
"And what happens… if he breaks out?"
Erna didn't answer. Because they both knew. He already had.
She exhaled softly, her fingers brushing against the sigil still hovering mid-air. Its glow dimmed as if reflecting her hesitation.
"There are three ways left to slow the Frozen God's awakening."
Erna raised one finger, the light of the room casting a long shadow against her cheek.
"One, kill the remaining two Winter Labors, his emissaries, still active in the Isles. He seeded them through Erna Isles centuries ago. They siphon the divine pulse of the Isles directly into him. If both are killed… the stream might be cut off or slowed."
Vastarael nodded, "Not impossible. But they wouldn't go down easy."
She raised a second finger.
"Two. Kill him before he fully awakens."
Vastarael scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. Erna didn't even argue.
"Even at Divine Rank, none of you would survive five seconds. He is a Forgotten Rank, a being of the God level. None of you would destroy him."
Her hand lingered in the air. For a moment, it trembled. Then, with great reluctance, she raised a third finger.
Vastarael blinked once. And he heard it. He heard the third option and his body stiffened. He gasped sharply, as if something vile and unspeakable had passed through him.
"No wonder you built the Obsidian Runic Spire using your last shards of Phantasm power. You built it with one purpose. Not as a sanctuary but as a trigger."
Erna didn't deny it.
"Yes. I built the ORS for that reason. Three hundred years ago, I was desperate. I saw his influence bleed into the Isles beneath the cracks of reality. And I thought… if no one can kill him, maybe I could… at least gain power while doing so. But now, I'm not so certain. The third option… was always a last resort that cannot be undone. And it requires a price."
Vastarael turned away, one hand running through his hair.
"If I do this… if I do what the third option demands, I will be hated by everyone I care about."
Erna's eyes shimmered again.
"I know. That's why I regret it now. Back then, I was only thinking like a dying Phantasm. I didn't care about the Isles. I didn't see the people. I saw the war."
She turned her face away, her hands curling into her robe.
"But these past three centuries… even as I slept, I watched. I felt every voice, every prayer, every laughter that echoed across the Halo, through the lakes, the sands, the snow and the volcanoes. I began to love this world."
Her voice cracked.
"And now… the very trigger I built to save it… might be the thing that ends it."
Vastarael was quiet.
Finally, he stepped toward her again and looked out the window with herm
"We'll kill the Winter Labors. That's our best chance."
Erna said nothing. She simply nodded. But both of them knew. If that didn't work, if the Frozen God fully awakens…
The last option wouldn't be a last resort anymore.