Early chapter because I won't be able to post on time
Although Snowchester was a coastal district, it frequently experienced below freezing temperatures. The ocean pushing against the coast was dotted with bobbing icebergs and sheets of ice. The clouds continually dumped snowflakes onto the land. All the houses were built a few feet above the ground on wooden pillars to account for the few feet of packed snow that fell every bitter night. It wasn't as cold as the mountainous region of the Antarctic district, but it was close enough that anyone who lived there needed to make sure they had heavy jackets on before they left their homes.
"It's the perfect place to begin," Passerine said, her wings folded around her body in an effort to keep herself warm. She was leaned down onto one of her knees with a communicator propped on the other knee. The screen illuminated her face, reflecting off her bird-like helmet. "She'll be in there. That's where the temperature is the coldest since Snowchester keeps its ice reserves there."
Vermillion nodded. Passerine had pointed at a metal building sitting right on the coast. They were about a mile from the main docks of Snowchester, and the lighthouse was close enough that the golden light sometimes passed over their heads. The windows of the warehouse were frosted, and the door was tightly shut by ice. The wind swirled around the edges, picking up stray bits of snow and ice to create a barrier that a normal person wouldn't be able to walk through without getting hurt. Although all the features looked natural in a place like Snowchester, anyone with an observant gaze would wonder why the ice around the door was faintly glowing cyan and why the wind never seemed to leave, only spiraling around the warehouse. Nothing about those additions was natural, and it was proof that something unnatural dwelled beyond the metal doors.
"Johnny and the people he was talking with always called her by the name Wretched Wraith. The latter part refers to her hybrid species. Wraiths are a variant of phantoms that have adapted to freezing cold temperatures. They still possess the ability to levitate like phantoms, but they traded out their shadow manipulation for the power to create blue fire that freezes whatever it touches instead of burning it. I don't know what her actual name is, but I doubt that her name is 'wretched'. That probably refers to her temperament. She sounds like an arsehole," Passerine said, reading out from the information she had gathered before devolving into her own speculations. Vermillion tuned that part out, trying to rummage through his memories. He knew of a wraith hybrid in Apex. She was a bitter woman with an unflinching gaze and a lazy expression. The world around her naturally dropped several degrees, and her glowing cyan eyes could pin someone down when she glared at them. She had a kill count higher than Johnny, but it never seemed like she took enjoyment in slaughtering others. She didn't seem to enjoy anything. She was an empty person, devoid of life and soul, and that was why she loyally went along with whatever Apex told her to do. She didn't know any better nor did she care to learn that there were more options.
"It's time to act," Vermillion said, cutting off Passerine. She glared at him, narrowly elbowing him. Vermillion jumped to the ground before she could, using the wind to soften his landing. Passerine followed behind him. Her wings expanded to help her glide to the ground. She landed gracefully, her talon clutching the asphalt of the road outside the warehouse. She smirked at Vermillion, and he rolled his eyes as he turned away from her.
He lifted his hand up. He temporarily stopped the wind from flowing, cutting off the continuous cycle. The wind fought against him, so he needed to remain where he was standing with his concentration focused. Passerine ran forward into the space that was created. She used her feather-like knives to start cutting through the cyan ice. It took a few moments with a lot of shoulder banging and desperate cutting, but Passerine was finally able to force the doors open. She took a step in, waving for Vermillion to follow her when she determined the coast was clear. Vermillion ran in, allowing the wind curtain to shut behind him. The wind continued to howl as it started to shut the door. Vermillion and Passerine ran forward to stop the door seconds before it slammed against the frame. They gently closed the door.

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The Trick to Falling in Style
FanfictionEighteen years ago, Tommy Innit was born. Three years ago, the vigilante Vermillion appeared. One year ago, Vermillion was killed. Two weeks ago, hybrids began disappearing, only to reappear as monstrous versions of their former selves. A few minute...