Jean Frost was like a cold goddess...
Her pale hair moved softly in the breeze as she walked forward with calm, measured steps. In her hands she carried a weapon unlike anything most viewers had seen before.
A long elegant bow rested on Jean Frost's grip.
But as the camera followed her movements, the weapon shifted.
With a smooth mechanical click, the bow separated and unfolded, transforming into a pair of sleek double ended blades.
A ripple of interest passed through the theater audience.
"That weapon…"
"It changed shape."
Jean didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Three recruits stood across from her.
They had clearly been hiding until now, waiting for an opportunity to ambush someone stronger.
But the moment they faced her.
Their confidence wavered.
The fight lasted only seconds.
Jean moved like flowing ice.
Her blades flashed once.
Twice.
Three times.
