He looked utterly consumed, his face drawn tight with pain. But the moment Snow neared, Frey's eyes snapped open.
Their gazes met. Frey inhaled deeply, struggling to draw that raging violet aura into himself, the earth around him quaking violently in response. The strain of containing it boiled the energy so fiercely that the lake itself evaporated—vanishing entirely.
Minutes passed. Finally, Frey succeeded in containing it, stepping out of the dried lakebed with heavy, dragging steps.
"Snow… forgive me, I didn't notice your presence," Frey said, apologetic. Snow remained silent for a moment, then finally asked the question that had consumed him since the beginning.
"What just happened, Frey? What was that aura?"
"Ah… you mean this?"
Frey lifted his palm. A small sphere of violet aura bloomed above it, like a tiny sun of condensed destruction.
It was small, yet it carried the exact same energy as before.
With a dismissive wave, Frey dissolved it into nothing.
