Part One
Himari pulled her face away from the scope, her head reeling as if the world had suddenly tilted on its axis. She didn't understand. She had taken that shot a thousand times in training. Why was the air suddenly so thin? Why did her lungs feel like they were being squeezed by iron bands?
What is wrong with me? she thought, a spark of genuine panic flickering through the fog of her fever.
She forced her shaking, bandaged hand off the rifle's grip and pressed it hard against her chest. She could feel her heart thudding — erratic and violent — against her ribs. Every breath was a shallow, ragged gasp that didn't seem to bring enough oxygen to her brain. Despite the dizziness, her training wouldn't let go. Her other hand remained clamped onto the sniper rifle, white-knuckled and desperate. If she dropped the weapon, it was over.
Down on the ground, Kiro watched her through the dim light. He saw her lurch forward, clutching at her chest.
"Himari?" he whispered into the comms, his voice no longer clinical. "Himari, talk to me. Breathe with me. Slow it down."
There was no answer. Only the sound of ragged, wet gasps over the open microphone — a sound that reached the ears of every student and soldier on the frequency.
Sir Vane stepped closer to Kiro, his eyes narrowed. He realized this wasn't a girl who had missed a shot because of poor aim. This was a body shutting down in a live-fire zone. He grabbed Kiro's shoulder.
"Captain. She's not responding. That's a medical emergency. Get up there. Now."
"Listen..." Himari wheezed into the mic, each word sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. "I am... I'm okay. Just... wait. I'm coming down."
She leaned heavily against the trunk, the rough bark the only thing keeping her upright. She tried to shift her weight, but her legs felt like lead. The harness she had refused to wear earlier felt like a ghost mocking her — without it, one slip meant a ten-foot drop onto frozen earth.
Kiro's hand was already on the first branch when Vane snatched the earpiece from him. Vane's voice didn't need volume to carry weight.
"Tsukihara. Stay exactly where you are. Do not move a muscle. That is a direct order." He turned sharply. "Captain, get her."
"I said... I'm fine..." Himari whispered one last time. But her grip on the rifle finally faltered. She slumped, her eyes fluttering shut against the overwhelming heat.
"I'll go up," Vane muttered, moving toward the base of the tree.
"Negative, Vane."
The voice was calm. Authoritative. Absolute.
Niel stepped forward, the firelight catching the cold steel in his eyes. He checked his stopwatch. "The other students still need to complete their evaluation. We have twenty minutes before lunch. You stay here and finish the testing. I'll bring her down."
He didn't wait for an argument. He shed his heavy outer coat and began to climb with terrifying speed — the movement of a man who had survived a hundred mountain operations. The branch beneath Himari groaned as Niel settled onto it beside her.
"Tsukihara." His voice was right behind her. Quiet. Steady. Dangerously close. "Let go of the rifle."
"I... I have it, sir," she choked out, her fingers tightening in one last act of defiance.
"You have a fever of at least 102 degrees and you can't see the target," Niel replied. He reached out and gently but firmly pried her fingers away from the weapon. "The mission is over. Now, get on my back."
Himari's head lolled back against the bark, her eyes glassy. "Oh, really?" she wheezed, the sarcasm still fighting the fever. "I have a fever... but how do you know it's 102, Sir? Did you bring a thermometer up the tree?"
Niel didn't blink. He grabbed the strap of her heavy Arclight sniper rifle and slung it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. Then he turned his back to her.
"Hop up. Now."
With trembling arms she leaned forward, her chest hitting his back. She felt the steady, solid heat of him. As she wrapped her arms weakly around his neck, she leaned close to his ear, her voice a faint, bitter whisper.
"First and last time, Niel. This is the first and last time I take your help."
Niel didn't respond. He stood up, his balance perfect on the icy branch, and began the descent. Below, the camp was a blur of orange light. Kiro and Reian stood like statues — watching the highest-ranking officer in the Dome carry their teammate down the mountain. Not like a student who had failed. Like a soldier who had fought until there was nothing left to fight with.
As his boots crunched onto the frozen ground, Niel's voice came as a low, quiet vibration.
"Did you use magic?"
Himari's heart skipped a beat. She thought of the wind bag. Of the sleeping mat. Of one second that apparently cost everything.
"No," she lied, her voice a hollow crackle. "No... clearly not."
"Fine," Niel replied. "We'll see. Because if you did, Tsukihara, you are in much bigger trouble than a missed target. Magic in this sector is a death sentence."
Himari couldn't reply. The energy it took to tell that one lie had exhausted the last of her reserves. As Niel walked toward the medical tents, she felt her eyes flicker — catching the glow of the bonfire one last time — before the world finally surrendered to the dark.
The Ice Queen was gone.
What remained was just Himari — a girl who had been breaking quietly for a very long time, and had simply run out of mountain to climb