The northern coast of Frostveil was silent but for the wind. It rolled off the sea in cold, biting sheets, carrying the scent of salt and snow. The Odyssey floated a cautious distance from the shoreline, its hull brushing through scattered icebergs that groaned and shifted with the tide.
Cyrus stood at the bow, coat zipped high, Tyrunt pressed close against his leg. The air glittered with ice dust; each breath came out as pale fog. The island felt different here—older, aware.
Near the edge of one vast iceberg, something caught his eye: a faint pulse beneath the surface, like a heartbeat trapped in the ice. He crouched, studying the glow. The water below wasn't still. Shadows rolled and unfurled beneath the translucent surface, each larger than the last.
A tremor rippled through the ice. Then the sea erupted.
A fin tore upward, slicing through the gray light. A massive form followed—deep navy streaked with glacial blue, scales rimmed in frost. Water steamed as it hit the cold air. When the creature's eyes opened, pale and distant as winter moons, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Kyogre?
Cyrus knew what Kyogre was supposed to look like. He'd read the records, memorized the scale charts. But this didn't match any description. It was smaller—no, denser—about the size of the ship, its body streaked with pale blue and webbed with veins of ice.
He watched in awe, heart hammering. This wasn't just a discovery for a report; this was something sacred.
The Guardian moved with impossible grace, circling slowly through the broken ice, its presence bending the sea itself. A spray of water froze midair, suspended like a thousand mirrors before crashing back into the surf. Cyrus couldn't tell what its intentions were...only that they weren't hostile. Its movements were deliberate, curious. Testing.
He stepped forward to the rail, voice steady but soft."We're not here to take. Just to understand."
For a moment, nothing. Then the water surged again, not at him, but beside the ship, carving a narrow channel through the drifting icebergs. A safe passage.
Cyrus followed the motion with his eyes, realization dawning. The Frostveil Kyogre wasn't driving them away; it was guiding them.
Tyrunt gave a low growl, the sound small but brave. Ditto peeked from Cyrus's shoulder, its surface rippling with reflected blue light. Meltan's body hummed faintly, resonating with the magnetic charge in the air.
Then a sound split the silence...a distant roar, powerful and ancient, echoing off the cliffs. Another guardian stirring, something territorial and immense. The ice quaked beneath the ship.
Kyogre turned, eyes narrowing, and the sea responded. Waves rose and froze in sweeping walls, deflecting the oncoming force. Ice cracked and reformed, sculpting barriers from the water itself.
Cyrus steadied himself against the rail, awe prickling through every nerve. He wasn't witnessing a battle. He was watching nature rewrite its own laws.
When the echoes finally faded, the ocean calmed. The Kyogre sank beneath the surface once more, leaving only a faint luminescent pulse beneath the ice, like a heartbeat retreating into the deep.
Cyrus stayed there long after, the wind numbing his face, the silence stretching. He didn't reach for his tablet. Some things didn't belong in data files.
Behind him, Tyrunt pressed its head against his leg again, seeking warmth.
Cyrus smiled faintly."Yeah," he whispered. "I saw it too."
The Odyssey drifted forward through the maze of icebergs, guided only by instinct, and the memory of that slow, steady glow.