I didn't realize that everyone was staring until Eidolon went silent; my body tensed. My eyes flicked to Petal Bloom before drifting to Akira's, noticing the curious look in her gaze.
"What's wrong?" Petal Bloom asked, leaning closer, her eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," I say, letting out a soft exhale as Blade Psalm spoke once more. Still, the way Akira was looking at me suggested we'd be talking about this later.
"Whatever that thing is," Blade Psalm said, gesturing toward the hologram still hovering above Akira's wrist, "it's not changing the fact that we're stranded."
His gaze swept across the group. "We still need food. We still need shelter. Chasing unknown signals in Frostveil is how people disappear."
"And ignoring it is how people die," Petal Bloom countered immediately.
"The signal created a storm capable of bringing down a Voyager."
"Assuming it created the storm."
Akira's eyes flashed. "Probability of storm generation: ninety-seven percent."
Blade Psalm grimaced. "Fine. Then it's dangerous."
"Which is exactly why we need to investigate it," Petal Bloom said.
The two stared at each other for a moment, the tension tightening until I pushed myself to my feet before the argument could continue.
"We do both."
Every head turned toward me.
"Blade Psalm and Muse Omen will gather food. Stay within visual range of the tree and return before nightfall."
The two nodded without argument.
"Tide Shaper, Petal Bloom, Akira, and I will investigate the signal."
"What about me?" Lingering Touch asked.
"Hold the shelter. If something happens while we're gone, I want someone here to protect the Liaisons."
The Salient studies me for a moment before giving a small nod. "Understood."
The plan settled over the group quickly after that. No one looked particularly happy about it, but nobody argued either.
Akira dismissed the hologram and stood. "The signal is approximately twelve miles northeast."
"Twelve?" Tide Shaper muttered.
"Through Frostveil terrain," Akira confirmed.
Petal Bloom only grinned. "Good thing we're Salients."
I rolled my shoulders and activated the heating systems in my exosuit. Soft crimson light pulsed beneath the armor plating as the suit adjusted to the brutal cold. Outside, the wind howled like something alive.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Eidolon's voice brushed against my thoughts.
"You shouldn't go."
My stomach twisted at that alone. Eidolon never told me to avoid danger—if anything, it usually pushed me toward it. Something about this felt wrong in a way I couldn't quite place.
"Since when are you worried about my safety?" I asked silently.
No answer came. Only that same uncomfortable feeling—heavy, unsettled.
Fear.
Before I could press it further, Petal Bloom ducked beneath the roots and stepped into the blizzard.
"Come on," she called over her shoulder. "Whatever's out there isn't going to find itself."
Tide Shaper followed without hesitation, snow swallowing her form almost immediately. Akira fell into step beside me, her expression unreadable in the shifting white.
I took one final glance back at the shelter, the tree already looming like a fading memory in the storm. Then I slid on my exosuit's helmet and stepped into the white.
Within seconds, it was gone.
The world became nothing but snow and wind—no landmarks, no horizon, just an endless sea of white stretching in every direction.
Wind whipped against my exosuit as I moved forward, each step sinking into snow that reached up to Akira's knees and my calves. I made sure the wire connection between us stayed secure; in this kind of visibility, losing her would be too easy. Tide Shaper moved ahead with steady control, her Echo bending the wind itself, forcing it to slide off our bodies instead of battering against them. Without her, the journey would have taken hours longer—maybe longer than we could afford.
"Khora."
I turned at the sound of my name, my visor catching Akira's silhouette as she looked back at me through the storm. Her arm lifted, pointing toward an opening in the trees just ahead.
"Look."
We slowed together, then stopped completely as the shape of it came into view. Something about it felt wrong immediately—too deliberate, too precise to belong in a place like Frostveil. The only way to describe it was unnatural.
Lines had been carved deep into the snow between the trees, careful enough to avoid damaging the trunks, as if whoever made them had cared more about preservation than concealment. Large stones had been placed in an octagram formation, each one sitting exactly at an intersection point. And at the center of it all were what looked like offerings—frozen shapes arranged with unsettling intention.
"Stars above…" Tide Shaper breathed, her voice low with disbelief as she stepped into the clearing. Even through her usual composure, there was tension in her posture now. Petal Bloom followed more cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she took in every detail before kneeling beside one of the stones.
I let them investigate for a moment, my attention drifting instead toward the center of the formation. Something about it pulled at me in a way I didn't like. I moved independently toward it, boots crunching softly through the packed snow, until I was standing over the central arrangement.
Only then did I realize what the blocks of ice actually were.
"Akira," I called, and she was beside me almost instantly. Her gaze sharpened as she ran a scan, her eyes flickering with streams of code.
"Running them through the database," she said. A beat later, she blinked. "These are all creatures known to dwell in the Expanse."
A slow breath left me as I crouched, reaching down to one of the smaller ice blocks. Inside was a rodent-like creature, perfectly preserved in stillness, its body curled as if it had been caught mid-movement. It didn't look dead so much as paused.
"Frostmire Burrowling, herbivore." Akira says, looking at the rodent before turning to the other creatures.
"Weird," I murmured, turning it slightly before something in me tightened. I paused mid-motion.
Akira noticed immediately. "What is it?"
"Look," I said quietly, lifting the frozen Burrowling back up. I tapped a single finger against the surface of the ice.
At the touch, the creature's eyes blinked.
Once.
Then again.
Then rapidly, as if registering awareness through layers of frozen glass.
"It's still alive."