The ice encased Lucien, his body creaking under the frigid pressure. His breath, visible in the cold air, came in short, pained gasps.
Fathoran, a smile playing on his lips, raised his hand. Ice crystals formed in the air, glinting menacingly. "Perhaps Selene and Raelar can be saved," he murmured, his eyes fixed on Lucien.
The decision to eliminate a member of his family still weighed on his conscience, but he forced himself to do what he deemed 'right'.
Raelar and Selene were almost free from their carbon prisons. The sound of their frogs crashing against the black walls echoed in the tense air. A crack appeared, then another, like the first fissures in a dam about to burst.
Time seemed to slow. Each second stretched into eternity as Fathoran prepared to unleash his final attack. The entire city seemed to hold its breath, as if somehow sensing its fate hung by a thread.