The silence in the Feeding Station was heavy, broken only by the sound of cooling metal contracting in the sudden frost. Clevatess stood amongst the shattered gears, his midnight-black tunic draped in a thin layer of silver dust. The guards were gone, and the "Silents" had retreated into the shadows of the vents, leaving the path to the upper battlements clear.
We have to get the prisoners out before the backup arrives, Alicia said, her blue aura pulsing with a sense of urgency. The fall of this station will be felt all the way to the High Citadel. The Queen will not let this go unanswered.
Clevatess nodded, his gaze turning toward the ceiling. He didn't use the stairs. He placed his hand on a frozen piston and pushed. The violet mana acted like a spring, launching him upward through the service shafts with a grace that defied gravity. Alicia and Nelluru followed close behind, their own powers augmented by the King's presence.
On the battlements, the prisoners were huddled together, shivering as the artificial heat of the Solar Pitch died away. When Clevatess emerged from the shadows, they didn't scream. They looked at him with a quiet, desperate hope.
The chains are heavy, one old man whispered, holding up wrists raw from the iron. But the shame was heavier. Thank you for stopping the pumps.
Clevatess didn't speak. He reached out and touched the man's shackles. Instead of breaking them with force, the Absolute Zero simply made the iron brittle. With a soft snap, the chains fell away like dry twigs. One by one, the workers were freed, their spirits lifting as the natural wind of the north touched their faces for the first time in years.
Look! Nelluru pointed toward the horizon.
A fleet of smaller ice-skiffs was approaching, but these weren't Vanguard. They carried the ragged banners of the resistance—the hunters from the ridge and the survivors of the Sun-Gate's fall. They had seen the Sky-Reaper hang in the air and the fire of the station go out. They were coming to claim their own.
Go to them, Clevatess commanded the prisoners. Tell them the King of the Night does not build cages. He only breaks them.
As the prisoners began their descent toward the rescue fleet, a single beam of light pierced through the gray clouds. It wasn't a natural sunbeam. It was a golden spear, narrow and sharp, striking the ground just inches from Clevatess's boot.
The Queen's personal guard had arrived. Not an army, but a single knight clad in armor that glowed with the intensity of a dying star.
The Knight of the Noon, Alicia hissed, drawing her blade. He's her champion.
Clevatess stepped forward, his raven-feather mantle spreading wide. The flight was over. The real duel was beginning.