Vane pulled the lever on the maintenance hatch. The iron groaned, the seal breaking with a sharp hiss of escaping steam. The air that rushed into the vent was not hot. It was a freezing, dry gale that carried the scent of absolute zero. He dropped from the ceiling, his star-steel spear already clicking into its full length mid-air. He landed on a narrow catwalk forty feet above the floor of the Iron Cathedral.

Ashe, Valerica, and Isole landed in a tight formation behind him. They didn't need orders. They immediately fanned out, their eyes scanning the massive circular chamber. The Cathedral was a masterpiece of frozen industry. Massive, multi-story gears were locked in place by thick pillars of translucent ice. The vertical pistons, which should have been thumping with the rhythm of the floor, stood silent like the pillars of a dead god.

At the center of the chamber, the Rank 5 Sentinel lay in ruins. The Iron Golem, a massive construct that should have required a coordinated raid to dismantle, was encased in a jagged mountain of frost. Its white-fire core was a dull, frozen ember. The ten keys it had guarded were gone. Or rather, they were held by the figures standing in the center of the ice.

"They are already finished," Valerica whispered. Her violet eyes narrowed as she looked at the bottom of the chamber. Her aura flickered, struggling against the ambient cold that threatened to slow her blood.

Isaac Glacium stood at the center of the frozen golem's remains. He looked untouched. His white and silver uniform was crisp, without a single speck of dust or oil. He wasn't even looking at the Calamities yet. He was staring at a small shard of ice in his palm, rotating it with a detached curiosity.

Beside him stood Lyra. Her blizzard-white hair was floating in the stagnant air, her fingers tracing patterns that left trails of frost in the space before her. Behind them, two Adepts stood with heavy shields and short-swords, their postures reflecting a level of discipline that made Jax's squad look like amateurs.

"Vane," Isole said. Her voice was steady, but her bone staff was vibrating. "The mana density in this room is lopsided. Isaac is suppressing the entire Cathedral. The steam isn't just frozen. It is being held in a state of stasis by his intent alone."

Vane gripped his spear. He could feel the pressure. It was like standing at the base of a glacier and waiting for it to fall. For seventy chapters, he had avoided this direct collision. He had calculated every path to stay out of the Monarch's reach. But the Labyrinth had a way of narrowing the world until only two points remained.

"We take the flank," Vane commanded. "Valerica, drop the ceiling. Ashe, go for the Adepts. Isole, anchor the shadows. I will handle the center."

"Finally," Ashe rasped. She didn't wait. She triggered her authority.

[Skill: Flash Arts, Grade A]

She vanished. She didn't move as a blur; she simply ceased to be at the catwalk and reappeared on the floor of the Cathedral. The sound of her movement was a sonic boom that shattered several of the smaller frozen pipes. She left afterimage slashes in the air that converged on the Adept on the right.

The Adept didn't panic. He raised his heavy tower shield, his own mana flaring in a controlled, golden burst. The impact of Ashe's claws against the shield sounded like a cannon going off. The stone floor beneath them cracked, but the Adept didn't budge. He shifted his weight, using a kinetic redirection technique to bleed off Ashe's momentum.

"Aggressive," Lyra noted. Her voice was like wind over snow. She didn't look at Ashe. She looked up at the catwalk where Vane stood. She raised her hand, and the moisture in the air crystallized instantly.

Thousands of jagged ice needles launched upward. They moved with a predatory grace, curving through the air to intercept Vane and Valerica.

[Skill: Event Horizon, Grade S]

Valerica stepped to the edge of the catwalk. She slammed her palm into the iron railing. The gravity in the path of the needles intensified so violently that the ice shattered into dust before it could reach them. The railing itself groaned and bent under the weight of her authority.

"Drop them, Valerica!" Vane shouted.

He launched himself off the catwalk, spinning his spear to gain momentum. He didn't use a skill yet. He relied on the raw physics of the Argent Horizon. He aimed for Lyra, the star-steel tip of his spear singing as it cut through the frozen air.

Lyra didn't move. She simply closed her eyes. A dome of absolute-zero frost erupted around her, the cold so intense it created a vacuum. Vane felt the heat being pulled from his body as he approached. He adjusted his trajectory, planting the butt of his spear into a frozen gear to vault away from the dome.

Isole hit the floor of the Cathedral, her staff hitting the iron grates with a rhythmic thud.

[Skill: Shadow Bind, Grade A]

Dark tendrils erupted from the shadows of the silent pistons. They raced across the frost, snaking toward Isaac's feet. But before they could touch him, a circle of white frost expanded from Isaac's position. The shadows were not just stopped. They were frozen in place, the dark energy turning into brittle, black glass that shattered under the weight of the cold.

The initial skirmish lasted less than ten seconds, but the air in the Cathedral was already saturated with the residue of S-rank mana. The Calamities stood on one side of the frozen golem, and Team 1 stood on the other.

Isaac finally let the ice shard in his palm melt. He turned his head to look at Vane. His ice-blue eyes were empty of malice. They were only filled with a clinical, terrifyingly distant interest. It was the look of a scientist observing a particularly resilient strain of bacteria.

"You are loud, Vane," Isaac said. His voice didn't need to be projected. It simply existed in every corner of the room. "You move with the desperation of a man who thinks he can outrun the winter. It is an interesting form of logic, but it is ultimately flawed."

"Your logic involves killing half the class to secure a door, Isaac," Vane replied. He leveled his spear, the silver mana beginning to circulate in his marrow. He triggered his internal rhythm to counteract the numbing cold.

[Skill: Internal Pulse, Grade B]

He felt his blood warm. His vision sharpened. He could see the vectors of the freezing air Lyra was manipulating. He could see the weakness in the Adepts' shield-wall. But most importantly, he saw that Isaac hadn't even entered a combat stance.

"The class is a collection of errors," Isaac said, stepping away from the frozen Sentinel. "I am simply correcting the equation. If they cannot survive the walk to the Hub, they have no right to see the Labyrinth's end."

Isaac began to walk forward. He didn't look at his squad. He didn't give orders to Lyra or the Adepts. They simply pulled back, forming a secondary line behind him. He moved with a regal, measured pace, his boots making a soft, crunching sound on the frost.

Vane felt the hair on his neck stand up. The air was getting thinner. The temperature was dropping so fast that the moisture on his spear-tip was turning to rime.

Isaac stopped ten meters away. He looked at Vane, then at Ashe, then at Valerica and Isole. He looked at them as if he were evaluating the quality of their gear.

"I remember you from the midterm," Isaac noted. He looked at Vane. "You were the one who analyzed the angles of my aura. You found a path through the pressure. I was curious to see if that was a fluke of luck or a genuine evolution."

Isaac raised his right hand. He didn't chant. He didn't flare his mana. He simply made a small, waving gesture with his fingers. It was an invitation. It was a king telling his subjects that he was ready to be entertained.

"Come," Isaac commanded. "Show me why the rat thinks he can stand in the presence of the Monarch."

Vane felt the cold snap. The standoff was over. The 4v4 was no longer a tactical exchange. It was an execution waiting to happen, and the Monarch had just signaled the start.

Vane gripped his spear, the star-steel vibrating with a low, dangerous hum.

'He isn't even trying,' Vane thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. 'He is just waiting for us to break.'

"Ashe, Valerica, Isole," Vane whispered, his eyes locked on Isaac. "Full output. Don't hold back a single drop."

Isaac stood there, a solitary figure of frost and silence, waiting for the first strike.

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