𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒: bnha x atla

⌞#𝟎𝟎𝟕⌝

𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐄𝐒

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 alleyway of the bustling city, the air was thick with tension. A group of villains, their intentions as dark as the night surrounding them, found themselves up against an unlikely adversary.

Iluliaq, moved among them with a chilling grace.

Hawks, the winged hero, observed from a distance, his keen eyes tracking every fluid motion of his protégé. The memory of their fateful encounter on the beach lingered in his mind, the moment he recognized the spark of something extraordinary within the Iluliaq.

Iluliaq's demeanor was cold, a reflection of the ice that danced at his command. His face was an unreadable mask, betraying no emotion as he engaged his opponents. He was like a artist in the midst of creation, each movement a stroke of genius, sculpting his medium of ice and water into deadly weapons.

"You are doing great, Frostbite!" Hawks called out, using the moniker he had given to Iluliaq. His voice was a mix of admiration and encouragement, though he knew praise often fell on deaf ears.

Without a word, Iluliaq summoned an ice dagger, the air around it crackling with frozen energy. With the precision of a seasoned warrior, he flung the dagger, embedding it deep into a villain's shoulder blade. Blood splattered across the icy ground and onto Iluliaq, but his expression remained unchanged- detached, as if he were a spectator to his own actions.

One of the villains, clutching his shoulder in agony, glared up at Iluliaq. "Who the hell are you?" He gritted through the pain.

Iluliaq glanced down at the man, eyes as cold as the ice he wielded. "Just a passing storm." He replied, his voice devoid of warmth.

Hawks descended, landing smoothly beside Iluliaq. "More like a blizzard if you ask me." He joked lightly, trying to elicit some reaction from his impassive apprentice.

The other villains, seeing their comrade taken down so effortlessly, began to retreat, fear overtaking them.

Hawks turned to Iluliaq, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know, most heroes try to avoid getting blood on their hands, literally and metaphorically."

Iluliaq looked down at the red staining his hands, then back at Hawks, his face betraying a hint of annoyance. "It washes off."

Hawks chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Frostbite. That's what makes you brilliant in a fight. Just remember, we're here to protect, not just to defeat."

A flicker of something passed through Iluliaq's eyes- perhaps the weight of Hawks' words reaching him, perhaps not. He turned away, signaling the end of the conversation.

As the night deepened, casting long shadows over the alleyway where the clash between heroes and villains continued. More foes emerged from the darkness, drawn by the chaos that had unfolded. Hawks remained vigilant, his eyes fixed on Iluliaq as he once again took the lead in the ongoing battle.

The winged hero watched in awe as his protégé moved with a grace and ferocity that seemed almost otherworldly. Iluliaq's fighting style was a revelation to Hawks, a mesmerizing fusion of elegance and deadliness that defied conventional explanation. It was a performance that transcended mere combat- it was a symphony of movement, a ballet of ice and water.

Hawks couldn't help but marvel at the way Iluliaq's every motion seemed to flow seamlessly into the next, a fluidity that was as captivating as it was lethal. The prince turned vigilante possessed a skill that was beyond compare, drawing on influences from ancient martial arts masters of a bygone era.