Smoke and dust blanketed the northern sky.
Uncle stood frozen atop the last hill, where his homeland once stood proud behind a wall of snow. Now, only smoldering ruins remained—and the cries of children separated from their mothers. Homes burned slowly, and the cold wind that once calmed the soul now carried the scent of iron and ember.
In the distance, Dr. Albert was still struggling. His body drenched in sweat, his face streaked with dust, he guided villagers through the narrow streets.
"This way! Stay close! Don't scream!" he shouted.
But chaos devoured command. A little girl was pushed out of the crowd—she fell to the ground, her tiny hand reaching out for anyone.
Albert leapt.
He dove into the fray, grabbing the small arm before hitting the ground hard. The girl looked at him with tear-filled, terrified eyes.
"It's alright. You're safe with me," he whispered.
Meanwhile, I stood in front of Hazle's house, with Zeco and Isabella by my side.
We didn't fully grasp what was happening—until uncle arrived, brisk steps and a face carved with tension.
"They're coming," he said urgently. "The north is under attack. Please… help us."
My chest tightened. I looked at him, speechless.
From the rooftop, Hazle dropped down, landing without a sound. Her eyes narrowed at my uncle.
"Where are they?" she asked curtly.
"On the coast. Dozens of warships. I don't know how many, and no one knows why they're attacking Iceland."
Elsewhere, Dr. Albert still carried the girl, walking down the now-emptied street. He searched for her mother, calling out,
"Who's lost this child?!"
Moments later, a woman appeared from behind the rubble. Her scream rang out,
"Mila! That's my daughter!"
Albert handed the child over gently, a faint smile on his lips.
"Take good care of her."
He looked around. The villagers had already fled ahead—he was falling behind.
When he turned toward the sea, his eyes widened.
Dozens of ships emerged from the fog, and flashes of light began to rain from them toward the land.
"Bastards…" he muttered, his jaw clenched.
"If I ever find out who's behind this… I'll kill them with my own hands."
Hazle looked at me.
"You need to go. They didn't come just to conquer. They came for you. To kill you."
I bowed my head, fists clenched.
"If that's what's best… I'll leave."
Uncle pulled me into the carriage. Beside me, Isabella gripped my hand tightly. Her gaze trembled, though I knew her heart was just as shaken as mine.
Meanwhile, Hazle, Zeco, and Albert stood side by side, staring northward.
"My name's Hazle," she said, voice calm but sharp.
"Charlotte," said the dwarf.
"Zeco," he added firmly.
Hazle gave a crooked smile.
"Let's give them a welcome."
I watched them from the carriage window as it began to move.
"My friends… take care of yourselves. I don't know what they want from me, but please—I only want you all to be safe. Thank you," I whispered, smiling sincerely.
Charlotte responded without turning,
"Of course, Hiro. I want to stay by your side, until this story ends. We face them… because you must survive, Hiro."
Zeco gripped his blade.
"I made a promise to my brother. I'll keep standing. At your side."
And Hazle, with wind beginning to swirl around her, only said softly,
"Because the wind has spoken… this is my war. And it ends soon, Hiro."
I closed my eyes. Silence fell.
But within my heart, one truth had taken root—
These three… would defy the storm for me.
Once, I lived alone, hiding in the shadows.
Now, those very shadows… had begun to shield me.