The biting wind lashed against Isabella's face as she trudged through the snow toward the looming gates of Frostspire Fortress. The sky above was heavy with grey clouds, the air thick with the scent of iron and frost. Her breath fogged before her, quick and shallow, but her steps were steady.
Behind her, far beyond the ridge, the transport ship waited—its engines humming low, with Alexander and Elias watching anxiously from the cockpit. But Isabella had insisted: this meeting had to be hers alone.
The Ice Gate loomed ahead, carved from ancient stone and reinforced with dark steel. Tall spires stretched into the sky like skeletal fingers, wrapped in crackling energy fields. And upon the ramparts stood the figures of Shade's soldiers—silent, masked, and motionless as statues.
As she approached, the ground trembled beneath her boots. A low mechanical growl filled the air as the gate slowly parted, revealing a pathway of frozen obsidian leading deeper into the fortress.
And there—waiting at the threshold—stood Shade.
No mask this time. No crown. Just her face—so much like Isabella's, and yet shaped by darkness, cruelty, and loss. Her silver eyes glinted like cold stars, unblinking.
"So," Shade said softly, her voice carrying across the wind. "The golden sister comes at last."
Isabella stopped mere feet away, standing tall, unflinching. "You know why I'm here."
Shade tilted her head. "To save me? Or to kill me?"
"Neither," Isabella replied. "To know you. To know the sister Voss stole from me."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them—heavy, electric. Then Shade laughed softly, a sound like breaking ice.
"Too late for that, little sister. I am not yours. I belong to the North now. To the Broken Order."
"Lies," Isabella said. "You're more than what Voss made you. You can feel it—I know you can. Why else open the gate for me? Why speak at all?"
Shade's smile faltered for a flicker of a moment. The ghost of hesitation.
"Because I was curious," she murmured. "To see what Cassia's precious child had become. To see if you were strong enough... or foolish enough to come alone."
Isabella stepped forward. Close enough to see the faint scar along Shade's temple—the mark of old control implants, long removed but never forgotten.
"You can end this war, Shade. You can be more than his weapon. You can be free."
For the first time, Shade's gaze darkened—not with anger, but something else. Fear. Long-buried doubt.
"Come inside," Shade said at last, her voice a whisper. "If you want the truth... if you want to see what Voss did to me... to us... then step into the darkness."
She turned, disappearing into the shadows of the fortress.
Isabella took a breath, her heart pounding.
And followed.