A beach in absolute darkness.
It was the arena that had formed around them, but there are still more elements to come.
One of High Lord Ursa's warriors stepped forward and stared at the Cluster Custodian.
"Hailstorm."
Another snap reverberated through the air.
Almost instantly, the temperature collapsed without warning. One moment, the air was basically still—shaped to comfort the gathered guests. The next, a brutal, bone-deep freeze slammed through the Blank Realm like a physical blow.
Breath misted. Skin tightened.
Even the ocean along the shoreline began to slow, its surface crystallizing at the edges where the waves kissed the sand. From behind High Lord Ursa's side, a cold wind began to blow. It didn't gust or swirl—it advanced.
A purposeful current of frozen air that moved across the realm like an army marching to water.
Moisture materialized out of nothing.
