[Three Days Later]
[The South Pole — The Frozen Wasteland]
The world here was a monochrome nightmare of white and grey. The wind howled like a banshee, carrying ice shards that could strip flesh from bone.
"Finally." Executioner exhaled, a cloud of steam escaping his lips.
He stared down at the solitary hut, almost buried in snow, sitting precariously on a jagged ice peak. He stood up, balancing on the head of his massive Red Dragon, a look of pure relief washing over his face.
'Finally, we can land. Three days straight without rest is tiring,' he thought, his muscles aching from the constant strain of maintaining the thermal barrier around them.
Behind him, on the White Dragon, Patricia slumped slightly. Her complexion was pale, blending with the snow around her, but her eyes held a spark of gratitude.
