While Arson and Sylvia's relentless cycle of destruction and restoration played out, Glacius and Peggy's story had already unfolded far ahead, their own clash of ice and warmth carving a different path through the neutral lands.
Glacius moved with a cold, calculated grace — his icy fingers skimming the surface of the water as it hardened into thick sheets of frost. The once-flowing waters now lay frozen in time, their aquatic residents — neutral people who had built their lives around the water — encased in ice like lifeless statues.
A frigid smile crept across Glacius' face.
"Look how peaceful they are now," he murmured, admiring the way the frozen bodies reflected the faint light like crystal sculptures. "So quiet... so perfect."
His power spread further, the cold slithering across the landscape, creeping into the homes of the neutrals floating in the water. Frost gnawed at the walls and windows, sealing doors shut, trapping whoever hadn't escaped in time.
But not everyone was still.
"Enough of this!" came a sharp, annoyed voice from behind him.
Peggy, her single free wing flapping frantically, hovered just above the ground — her other wing still frustratingly stuck to Glacius' rear by a thread of static electricity.
She wasn't about to let him turn another village into an ice sculpture garden.
Golden energy sparked from her hands as she worked tirelessly to thaw out the frozen water. The thick ice cracked and hissed under the touch of her magic, returning small patches of the river to liquid form. Some of the neutrals — those who hadn't been fully encased — began to stir, shivering but alive.
Peggy flitted from one frozen person to another, her fingers glowing as she melted the ice from their limbs and faces by launching light beams. "You are absolutely insufferable!" she snapped at Glacius. "Why do you always have to freeze everything?"
Glacius barely glanced at her. "And why do you insist on ruining my art?" His tone was calm, but there was a faint edge of annoyance. "I'm creating perfection. You're just making a mess."
Peggy clenched her jaw. "These are people, not your personal decorations."
The contrast between them couldn't have been clearer.
Glacius, cold and unbothered, continued his relentless freezing, expanding his territory with each step — while Peggy, warm and persistent, desperately worked to undo the damage he left in his wake.
All the while, the ridiculous bond between them — that single stubborn wing still stuck to Glacius — kept tugging Peggy along every time he moved. She would flutter back each time she tried to pull away, scowling in frustration, while Glacius carried on without so much as a flinch.
It was a battle of opposites — not as violent as Arson and Sylvia's fiery dance, but just as intense in its own right.
Ice and warmth.
A never-ending struggle between two forces, just like their counterparts.
As Glacius continued his slow yet steady expansion of his frozen empire, Peggy was locked in a frustrating battle of undoing his destruction—thawing out the frozen rivers, freeing neutral residents from their icy prisons, and trying to counter every move Glacius made.
The tension between them simmered like a pot just about to boil over.
"Why don't you just stop for a second?" Peggy huffed, struggling to melt a thick sheet of ice encasing a neutral child's legs. "You're going too far!"
Glacius didn't stop — he didn't even blink. With a single flick of his wrist, a wave of frost shot forward, creeping over the water once again and canceling out Peggy's efforts. The child she was saving was re-frozen in an instant.
"Too far?" Glacius said in a smooth, calm voice. "I'm only just beginning."
Peggy's wing, still stuck to Glacius' rear, flapped furiously in irritation. "I swear, if this wing doesn't come off you soon, I'm going to melt you for a change!"
Glacius gave a ghost of a smile. "That would be quite the trick, little fairy."
Despite their constant bickering, they remained an odd pair — physically bound by the static force still linking Peggy's wing to Glacius' back, yet ideologically opposed in every way.
But everything shifted when Glacius reached a larger aquatic village — one that sprawled along a series of rivers, with homes built on wooden stilts over the water. The neutral residents, seeing the trail of ice behind him, immediately panicked.
A few brave neutrals stepped forward, pleading with Glacius.
"Please," one of them said, "this is our home. Don't freeze it… don't freeze us."
Glacius' cold gaze met theirs, and for a brief moment, there was silence.
Then, without a word, he raised his hand. A blast of ice shot from his fingertips, freezing the river solid, locking the villagers' boats in place. Another swipe of his hand sent a chilling wind through the air, coating the stilts of their houses with frost.
Peggy darted forward, her magic flaring. "No!" she shouted, melting the ice as fast as she could. "You're heartless!"
Glacius didn't react to the insult. He simply kept walking, his touch turning everything into a lifeless winter.
"Why do you do this?" Peggy demanded, breaking more ice. "You don't even look happy about it. What's the point?"
Glacius paused.
"I find peace in stillness," he said softly, his cold breath forming mist in the air. "No movement. No chaos. Just quiet… perfect stillness."
Peggy stared at him, baffled. "You think this is peace?" She gestured at the frozen houses and terrified villagers. "This isn't peace, it's suffering."
Before Glacius could respond, a massive creature burst out of the water — a guardian beast of the neutrals, a gigantic serpent-like creature with glowing blue scales. It let out a thunderous roar, sending shockwaves through the frozen river.
The neutrals cheered — their guardian had come to protect them.
Glacius, however, didn't flinch.
Peggy's heart pounded. "Finally, someone to stop you!"
But Glacius only tilted his head. "It's just another obstacle."
The serpent lunged at Glacius, but the ice prince calmly lifted a hand. With a single powerful blast of frost, he froze the serpent mid-attack — encasing it in a thick block of shimmering ice, suspended in mid-air.
Silence fell over the village once more.
Peggy's eyes widened in horror. "You… you froze their guardian."
Glacius lowered his hand. "Now, it's peaceful."
But then, the ice around the serpent began to crack — Peggy's magic working from a distance to thaw the beast.
"You can't freeze everything forever, Glacius," she said defiantly. "Not as long as I'm here."
The frozen serpent, now partially freed, roared again, more furious than before.
Glacius' cold smile returned. "Good. I was growing bored."