Skadi woke to a boot nudging her shoulder. She flinched, breath catching, half caught between sleep and some half-frozen nightmare.

Then the shape above her resolved into Tala, dark silhouette backlit by flickering screens.

"Up," Tala said, tone clipped, eyes sharper than usual. "You're needed."

Skadi pushed herself upright, blankets falling in a tangled heap around her. Her body felt heavy, hollowed out from a night spent staring at the ceiling and chasing thoughts she couldn't cage.

"What is it?" Her voice rasped.

Tala tossed a glance toward her displays, one hand raking through her dark hair. "Word on the local nets is there's a salvage rig inbound. Vashri's crew. With your favorite fox in tow."

A pulse jumped in Skadi's throat. "Akiko?"

"Who else?" Tala didn't wait for an answer. She bent to pull something from under one of the benches. A compact metal case, unfamiliar and bristling with faint runic etchings. It thrummed lightly against the floor plates as she set it down, as if it were alive.

Skadi's stomach twisted. "You want to do this now? Already?"

Tala's look was cool. Detached. "If you have a better time in mind, I'm all ears."

"This is—" Her words caught, strangled by the clench of her chest. "We barely know where she's going to be. Or what she's even planning."

"And if we wait?" Tala set her hands on the case, palms flat. "If she moves on, if something happens, then anyone hurt, anyone dead because we sat on our hands, that's on us. On you."

Skadi closed her eyes, teeth grinding together. It was moving too fast. Faster than she could keep up with. But Tala was already standing, already waiting, that cold certainty leaving no room to breathe.

She rose slowly, her limbs leaden, and reached for the cold assurance that her magic offered. Because whatever else she was, a sister, a daughter to a woman who had been torn away, she was also the blade now.

And if she hesitated, someone else might bleed for it.

They walked the corridors in a brittle silence, the echo of their footsteps too loud in the dim early-hour hush. Most of the Hold was still asleep or slow to rise, the passageways nearly empty, just the occasional maintenance crew or bleary-eyed worker trudging past without sparing them a glance.

Skadi's pulse climbed the closer they got to the outer sectors. Every bulkhead felt like it loomed, every flickering light catching on the runic lines of the case cradled carefully in Tala's hands.

When they reached the final junction, just shy of the main airlock, Skadi stopped. Her throat worked around the question before it finally tore free.

"No one else is going to get hurt by this, right?" Her voice sounded thin even to her own ears. "We're right by the docks. If something goes wrong—"

Tala didn't even break stride. She just adjusted the weight of the case and gave a short, amused exhale.

"It's early," she said. "Nobody's around to be in the way. Besides, it's not that kind of bomb. More magic than shrapnel. It'll punch through a shield, sure, but after that? It'll gutter out."

Skadi frowned. Her gut knotted tighter. "You're sure."

"Skadi," Tala said, tone warm as sunlight. She reached out, brushed her gloved fingers against Skadi's elbow in a ghost of comfort. "Trust me. I don't want a crater where my workshop used to be any more than you do."

It settled nothing. But Skadi let herself move anyway, drawn along by momentum and the faint thrum of power in the device at Tala's side. Because this was what she'd agreed to. To stop a threat before it could sink deeper claws into their lives.

She tried not to think about how easily Tala spun these reassurances. Or how every step seemed to echo like a drumbeat counting down to something she couldn't take back.

Tala slowed as they reached a small utility hatch near the outer ring, the hum of nearby power conduits a low, uneasy undercurrent. She crouched, fingers moving quick over the manual locks, then swung the hatch open to reveal a ladder dropping into shadow.

"Alright," Tala said, breath misting faintly. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, sharp and sure. "I'll set the charge below. Safer that way. Focused. But—"

She glanced back at Skadi, weighing her like another piece of equipment to be slotted into place. "If this goes sideways… you'll be here. To finish it."

Skadi's stomach twisted. "You want me to just stand here? Wait for her to walk into a trap?"

Tala's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "I want you here to protect this Hold. The others wouldn't stand a chance if she's half what the rumors say. But you? You've already proven what you can do."

Her hand came up, brushing Skadi's shoulder. The touch was light, coaxing. It burned colder than any ice.

"Look at it this way. If the blast fails, you get to be sure it ends. Clean. Before she can bring any more ruin to our doors."

Skadi didn't answer. Her throat had closed up tight, her pulse a drum in her ears.

Tala's expression softened by a hair, but her eyes were still calculating, already flicking down to her satchel.

"Stay alert. This won't take long."

Then she disappeared into the hatch, the echoes of her boots swallowed by the metal depths below.

Skadi was left alone. Alone with the throb of her magic pressed tight against her ribs, and the knowledge that if she let herself waver, even for a breath, it might mean everything Tala feared would come true.

Or maybe everything Skadi feared.

She stood there long after Tala's footsteps faded, arms locked stiff at her sides. The corridor seemed narrower suddenly, the walls pressing in, every faint creak of settling metal another threat.

This is for the Hold.

The thought circled, brittle as ice.

For the people still left. For every last soul trying to scrape out a life here under Haven's boot.

If she let Akiko walk free… if she didn't see this through… what would that make her? Complicit in the next disaster. The next mother left clawing through rubble for a child that wouldn't answer.

Her breath shuddered out, curling in front of her face. The cold helped. It always did. Wrapped everything tight, numbed it until the ache wasn't so raw.

She's dangerous. You've seen it yourself. Felt it. Even the deepest, most sacred parts of the moon… scarred by her.

But deeper, under that calculated reasoning, something trembled. A memory of laughing voices. Of cautious trust, that wry grin Akiko had offered back on the docks, before everything shattered. Before Skadi learned just how easily hope could rot underfoot.

She crushed it down. Buried it under frost. Let it freeze there, quiet and still.

Tala's voice crackled softly over the comm. "Charge is set. I'm clearing out now. Just hold position. This'll be quick."

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Skadi's hand twitched. Her pulse thundered so hard it felt like it rattled her ribs. The corridor felt impossibly small, the metal walls pressing in on her from all sides.

Then, a low rumble. The airlock systems cycling. The lights along the bulkhead shifted from red to amber to green. Hydraulic clamps disengaged with a heavy thud.

The inner hatch rolled open.

Two figures stepped through, laughing about something. Skadi couldn't hear the words, but the light in their eyes told enough. Akiko's grin was all teeth, sharp but easy, two tails curling behind her in lazy arcs. Raya bumped shoulders with her, gold mana flickering playfully around her fingers. The pair moved like they were stitched together by something gentle. Something Skadi had long since forgotten how to hold.

Her chest tightened, breath catching at the sight. She had no rage for Raya. Even through all the ice in her heart, there was no malice for her. Just the sick twist of knowing she'd be collateral. Of telling herself it was Akiko's fault for dragging Raya close. For wrapping her up in danger.

Skadi almost stepped forward. Almost shouted. Almost—

Then Akiko's head snapped up, ears pinning flat. Her gaze sliced the corridor, pupils narrowing to slits, foxfire already igniting around her hands.

But it was too late.

Twin shields flashed into existence, Raya's radiant gold flaring wide, Akiko's blue-white foxfire wreathing tight around them. A heartbeat later the entire passageway went white, a rushing roar swallowing everything. The explosion punched through the narrow hall, ripping panels from the walls and shoving Skadi back against a support strut.

Her ears rang. The lights flickered, shuddered, then steadied under emergency backups. Smoke and frost tumbled through the corridor, a choking haze that tasted metallic

Skadi forced herself upright. Her legs felt numb, but she pushed forward, searching for any sign through the swirling grit.

Then the rubble shifted. A low growl, hollow and seething, echoed off the walls.

Akiko stood there, framed in ruin. Her suit hung in tatters, torn through in half a dozen places, blood dripping down plates already reweaving under slow, flickering foxfire. Her eyes burned. Alive with blue-white hate.

At her feet, Raya didn't move.

Skadi's heart seized. A cold even her magic couldn't match spilled down her spine.

And then Akiko lifted her head fully, gaze locking on Skadi. And the foxfire flared, wreathing her shoulders, coiling down her claws.

Her lips parted, a ragged breath escaping. then a word, low and wrecked:

"You."

The hallway seemed to contract under the weight of it. Skadi's pulse stuttered once, then raced.

Tala's voice crackled in Skadi's ear, thin with urgency. "Now, Skadi. Finish it before she—"

Skadi's breath tore free. Frost exploded around her feet as she raised a hand, the water line ripped from the fractured wall gushing into her magic's grip. Spears of ice coalesced, sharp and vicious, and she hurled them forward in a desperate barrage.

Akiko was already moving. Foxfire flared around her claws, her whole body a streak of blue-white violence. The first volley of ice shattered against her aura, the second burst was dodged outright. Akiko rolled low, then came up in a burst of sparks, claws swinging.

Skadi threw up a wave, a solid wall of frozen water that cracked on impact. Shards sprayed her face. She staggered, breath misting in harsh gasps.

"You promised to protect us, but you didn't! You left us!" Skadi shouted. Her voice broke, fury tangled in grief. "This was my home. My family. You brought the ruin with you—!"

Akiko slammed into her shield of ice, claws digging through. Steam poured from the contact point as the foxfire bit deep. Her eyes blazed, teeth bared.

"You think I wanted this?" Akiko roared.

Another swipe came, tearing through Skadi's next hasty defense, a slab of ice that splintered under the foxfire's heat. Steam blasted out, scalding Skadi's skin. She stumbled back, breath ripping ragged from her lungs.

"You think I left you behind because it was easy? I was trying to stop the thing that did this. To your mother, to all of Zephara!"

Akiko was breathing heavily, her words coming out in brutal heaves.

Skadi's power bucked wildly. Water surged in to fill the gaps, a torrent twisting into spears and jagged coils. Her hands shook.

"She didn't have to die!" Skadi's voice cracked. "If you'd just been there… if you'd cared more about us than your own damned crusade—"

Akiko lunged. Claws found the ice shield, tore it open. Her face was inches from Skadi's now, breath steaming between them, eyes bright with wrath and something rawer underneath.

"Don't you dare put that on me," Akiko snarled. Her claws wrenched the last of the ice apart, foxfire licking dangerously close to Skadi's throat. "I was fighting for you. For everyone."

The words were a knife. Skadi's magic cracked, a high keening in her ears.

Akiko's eyes were burning cinders, and her voice was a low growl. "But then you hurt her. She's everything to me!"

"She followed you into this!" Skadi countered, breath sharp. "You brought her here. This fight, this power, the frigate, you're the one who dragged her into it."

"I asked her to stay behind!" Akiko's voice cracked. "She came anyway. Because she believed in me. And now she's—"

She cut herself off. Trembled.

Skadi didn't wait. Couldn't. Her fingers clenched, and a spear of ice erupted from the floor between them. It cracked the ground as it surged upward, and Akiko sprang back to avoid being impaled, boots skidding across the frost-slick stone. The foxfire receded from Skadi's throat, but the heat of it lingered like a ghost.

Her ears rang. Her hands ached. Her heart…

She'll kill me. Not yet. Not if I stop her first.

Then Akiko moved again. A pulse of foxfire ignited under her, searing blue-white, and she rocketed forward, trailing sparks like a comet's tail. The low gravity made it worse; she pivoted mid-air, twisting around Skadi's next desperate ice lash, her tails streaming behind her in molten arcs. For an instant, she didn't look solid at all, more a streak of fire-wrought vengeance given shape.

Another blast of frost shot out. Akiko flipped over it, feet skimming the ceiling, then twisted off a bulkhead with an explosion of foxfire, coming in from above. Skadi tried to angle a spray of water up, it turned to jagged spears in the air, but Akiko carved through them, claws shedding burning fragments that hissed against the walls.

Skadi flung her hands out, ripped more water from the ruptured pipe. It coiled into a writhing shield, freezing so fast the air boomed with the change. Just in time. Akiko hit it claws-first, shattering the barrier in a detonation of steam that drove Skadi stumbling backward.

She recovered, teeth gritted. Flung a sharp spray of ice-edged water, enough to catch Akiko mid-lunge. The kitsune snarled, twisting again, but too late. The flood slammed her up into the ceiling with a bone-rattling crack, leaving her stunned for a breathless heartbeat.

That was all Skadi bought herself.

Akiko's head snapped down. Her eyes burned with foxfire, wild and too bright, her lips peeled back in something that wasn't quite a snarl, more like grief turned to hate.

She thrust out her arm. Foxfire surged up her shoulder in hungry waves, pooling at her outstretched palm. For an instant it seemed to pause, a dreadful intake of breath, and then it erupted. A lance of blinding blue-white fire, hotter than anything Skadi had ever felt, roared across the corridor.

Skadi's hands came up without thought. The water obeyed her fear, snapping into a wall of ice so thick it rang like tempered steel.

The beam hit.

The world became noise. Light carved into the ice, boring through with terrifying speed, molten rivulets streaking down the surface. Cracks raced outward, fractures spidering toward where Skadi stood braced.

Then the ice failed.

Skadi threw herself sideways. The foxfire beam ripped past, close enough she felt the hair on her arm singe, heat searing into her bones. She hit the ground in a roll, the edge of the blast catching her leg, fire tearing at her mana, leaving it raw and stinging.

Skadi barely scrambled to her feet before Akiko was on her.

No foxfire this time, just raw momentum. Akiko slammed into her with enough force to send them both sprawling, claws raking across Skadi's shoulders as they crashed into a half-collapsed support beam. Damaged metal plates groaned under their combined weight.

Skadi fought to bring up another frost spike, anything, but Akiko's knee drove into her gut, knocking the air from her lungs. Her concentration shattered. Frost skittered away in helpless curls.

They grappled there, tangled and breathless, slipping on slick frost and scorched metal. Skadi shoved against Akiko's throat, trying to pry her back, but Akiko twisted her arms aside and drove her forearm under Skadi's chin, pinning her. Their auras flared in jagged, warring pulses. Ice and foxfire snapping against each other so violently the air itself seemed to crack.

Another heave and they went down again. Skadi's back hit the ground with a rattling thud, Akiko straddling her hips. Claws found her throat, not quite piercing, but close enough she could feel the promise of it. The cold bite of them, sharpened by mana.

Akiko's breath came in harsh, animal bursts. Her eyes were fever-bright, wild, grief bleeding out of every ragged edge.

Skadi tried to say something. To snarl, to demand. But it caught in her throat as Akiko leaned closer, claws pressing just enough to draw tiny beads of blood.

Then Akiko froze. Her eyes didn't change, still molten with foxfire, but they flicked past Skadi, over her shoulder. Skadi followed the look, heart skipping in sudden dread.

Raya lay crumpled against the far wall, half-buried under twisted plating. Frost crept over her suit, fragile and spreading, like delicate veins of white rot. The corridor's ruin had let the cold in deeper than it should. And worse, where Skadi's aura still flared, icy tendrils had spread further, snaking toward Raya as if drawn by some cruel gravity.

Akiko's hands spasmed around Skadi's throat, then released.

She recoiled, breath rasping, horror flashing over her face so quickly it barely seemed real. Her aura guttered, foxfire flaring up in a wild burst that seared the frost around them. For an instant it felt like the corridor might simply explode from the conflicting magics.

But Akiko didn't strike again. She stumbled back, turning half away, one hand outstretched toward where Raya lay, her mouth working like she was trying to summon words and only finding panic.

"Stay away from me," Akiko snarled, voice splintered and low. "And stay away from her."

Then she turned fully, half-falling, half-running across the ruined corridor to Raya's side. Her foxfire flared brighter, greedier, eating the frost from the ground in frantic waves as she began to tear at the debris.

Skadi lay there, throat raw, chest heaving, her own magic pulsing in jagged, guilty throbs. Watching as Akiko clawed rubble off Raya with trembling hands, everything else forgotten.

She was supposed to be the danger, Skadi thought, vision blurring as exhaustion clawed at her edges. So why does it feel like I'm the one who broke everything?

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