Iowyn
The corruption spread like inverse flowers across the forest floor—black tendrils that bloomed where verdant life should pulse with vitality, transforming everything they touched into an obscene mockery of nature’s beauty. Each tendril writhed with perverse hunger that made my Winter blood recoil, frost patterns erupting across my skin in defensive configurations that tasted of ancient rage and protective fury.
Beside me, Caleb knelt to examine the latest manifestation, his newly awakened Winter abilities flowing unconsciously like liquid silver fire through veins that had learned to channel cosmic ice.
"This is the seventh breach in three days," he said, voice rough with Alpha authority. "They're getting through despite the tinkerers' reinforcements."
I traced the perimeter wi
