Zephyr, still slumped against the ruined wall with Baron Nusayel, watched, his breath catching in his throat despite the pain.
The colossal Mistborn, a titan of corrupted ice and mist, now faced the newcomer. For the first time since their brutal encounter began, the monster's features, usually a mocking sneer or a roaring snarl, settled into something new: a genuinely serious expression, even a hint of fear in the depths of its swirling face.
What exactly is that thing? Is it stronger than this one?
Zephyr's mind raced. The newcomer's form — ethereal white with an ice-blue vortex for a head — bore a haunting resemblance to the Mistborn, yet stood apart in its own way.
SWOOSH-!
The new creature was the first to move.
Its crystalline wings, spread wide, flapped once with silent power, sending it hurtling forward at impossible speed. As it accelerated, icy human-like hands formed from its flowing robes, raising above its head.
