ZZZ:Through the Frosted Mirror

The scorching sun blazed high above the Outer Ring, its relentless heat radiating off the sand and jagged cliffs. The landscape stretched into a desolate horizon, painted in hues of gold and rust. Ellen trudged forward, her steps heavy but determined. Mira lay slumped on her back, her fragile form barely holding on. Her oni-like ethereal features had receded, but her pale complexion and shallow breaths betrayed the toll of her ordeal.

Ellen's shark tail swayed with purpose, acting as a sturdy counterbalance to keep Mira from slipping. She'd looped Mira's arms around her neck and secured her as gently as she could. Despite the glaring sun overhead, Ellen's frost-coated shoulders shimmered faintly, casting a protective chill that kept Mira's body cool. Every so often, Ellen's frost abilities pulsed, the icy breeze she created acting like a natural air conditioner. The cool air rolled off her skin, offering brief reprieves from the oppressive heat.

Her instincts were sharp, guiding her through the barren terrain as if retracing her steps from memory alone. The desert's silence was broken only by the crunch of her boots against the ground and the occasional sound of shifting sands. Ellen's narrowed eyes scanned the horizon, her pupils slit like a predator's, searching for any sign of danger. She felt the weight of Mira's condition pressing on her heart, each labored breath a reminder of the urgency to return to New Eridu.

The heat itself didn't bother Ellen. Her Thiren physiology, particularly her shark traits, made her resilient to extremes—the sun's harsh rays were little more than an annoyance, causing her to squint and occasionally shield her eyes with a hand. But her concern for Mira's well-being was paramount.

Stopping briefly, Ellen knelt on one knee to readjust Mira's position, making sure she was comfortable. Mira stirred slightly, her Ether-like tears still faintly glimmering in the corners of her eyes, even in her unconscious state. Ellen's jaw tightened. Seeing Mira like this fueled the embers of anger still smoldering deep within her, but she couldn't afford to lose focus now.

"You're going to be okay, Mira. I'll make sure of it," Ellen muttered, her voice low but resolute.

With her one hand, she conjured a small sheet of frost along her palm and held it up to Mira's face, letting the cool air wash over her. It reminded Ellen of how people fanned themselves to stave off the heat. The sight almost brought a bitter smile to her face, but the gravity of the situation quickly crushed the thought.

As she pressed onward, Ellen's mind wandered, replaying the horrifying images she had witnessed in Mira's memories. The faceless figures in lab coats, the cold metallic instruments, Mira's screams of agony… it was enough to make Ellen's hand ball into fists. She shook her head, focusing instead on the journey ahead.

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, painting the desert in soft shades of orange and purple. Though the air remained warm, the approaching evening promised some relief. Ellen's pace quickened slightly; she couldn't afford to waste any more time. Her senses were on high alert, attuned to every sound and movement around her. She knew the Outer Ring was teeming with danger—rogue Ethereals, scavengers, biker gangs, and worse—but none of it mattered. She would get Mira back to safety, no matter the cost.

Finally, in the distance, Ellen spotted the faint outlines of New Eridu's towering structures against the horizon. Relief washed over her, but it was fleeting. She knew this was only the beginning of what lay ahead. Adjusting her grip on Mira, Ellen pushed forward, her resolve unshaken.

"Almost there," she whispered.

The setting sun cast a golden glow over the pair, illuminating the trail of frost Ellen left behind as she carried Mira back to what she hoped would be safety. Little did she know, the true battle was only just beginning.

Ellen pressed on, Mira still on her back, her shark tail curled up slightly to support the child's small frame. She could feel Mira's weak breaths against her neck and the faint grip of her arms as they hung limply around Ellen's shoulders. The heat of the Outer Ring was relentless, the sun glaring down from above. Though the temperature barely bothered Ellen thanks to her frost abilities, she made sure Mira remained cool, casting a faint icy mist around them that shimmered under the harsh sunlight. Yet the sun's glare irritated Ellen—not for herself, but because she knew it was taxing Mira even more.

As Ellen walked, her sharp instincts began to tug at her—something felt off. Her focus wavered as she considered the distance they still had to cover. She had underestimated how far the desolate base had been from New Eridu, and without proper transport, the journey felt endless. Ellen's primary concern, however, was Mira's health. She scanned the horizon for anything that could serve as temporary shelter—a cave, an overhang, anything to shield Mira from the merciless sun.

Before Ellen could act on her search, a faint, low rumble began to reach her ears. It grew louder and louder, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of engines. Ellen stopped, turning her head sharply in the direction of the noise. A cloud of dust was rising in the distance, and soon enough, she saw them—a group of motorcycles speeding toward her.

Ellen tightened her grip on Mira, her body tensing. The bikes circled her and Mira, forming a barrier of spinning wheels and dust clouds. The riders revved their engines menacingly before cutting them off in near-unison, the silence that followed ringing louder than the noise before. Ellen stood her ground, her frost-laced breath visible even in the sweltering heat.

The riders dismounted one by one, their appearances confirming Ellen's suspicion: they were all Thirens. Each of them was distinct, their animalistic features betraying their respective species. The leader—a towering bear Thiren with a broad frame and a scar cutting across his muzzle—stepped forward, exuding arrogance and confidence with every heavy step. He looked Ellen up and down, taking in her missing arm and the child she carried.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the bear Thiren said, his voice a deep rumble that carried a mocking tone. "A lone shark and her cub? You've seen better days, haven't you?" He let out a chuckle, his gang joining in with jeering laughter.

Ellen didn't respond. Her sharp eyes locked onto the bear, cold and unyielding.

The bear Thiren continued, undeterred by her silence. "Word is there's a bounty on a shark Thiren. Alive, of course. Pretty little thing, fits your description perfectly." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a mockingly gentle growl. "So here's the deal: you come with us willingly, and I'll make sure you only lose the other arm. Maybe a leg or two—just enough to keep you manageable. I hear 'they' like their prizes in one piece."

The gang laughed again, but Ellen didn't flinch. She didn't blink. To her, they weren't threats—they were obstacles, nuisances. Her instincts screamed at her to protect Mira, and that's all that mattered. The bear Thiren reached out as if to grab her, but he didn't even make it halfway.

In a flash, Ellen moved. The first strike was so fast, the bear didn't even register it until he saw the frost creeping up his arm. He stumbled back, roaring in pain as ice encased his limb. The others barely had time to react before Ellen was among them, a whirlwind of primal brutality. She fought like a predator—like the apex predator she was.

With her single arm and her tail acting in tandem, Ellen tore through the gang with an efficiency that was almost terrifying. Her movements were fluid and feral, each strike calculated yet savage. She used her frost abilities not just to incapacitate but to terrify, freezing limbs and shattering them with bone-crunching strikes from her tail. The air grew colder with each passing second, frost spreading across the sand as if the desert itself were bowing to her fury.

The gang tried to fight back, but they were no match. Ellen's raw power and relentless assault left them scrambling. One by one, they fell, their weapons and bravado useless against her.

The bear Thiren, clutching his frostbitten arm, was the last to stand. He looked at Ellen with a mix of fear and rage. "You… you monster…" he growled, taking a shaky step back.

Ellen didn't give him the chance to retreat. She surged forward, her tail whipping around to knock him off his feet. As he hit the ground, Ellen loomed over him, her eyes glowing with an icy, predatory light.

"Monster?" she said, her voice low and deadly. "You haven't seen anything yet."

With a final, decisive strike, Ellen ended it. The bear Thiren's body hit the ground, frost creeping over him until he was still. Ellen stood among the wreckage of the gang, her breath visible in the chilled air. She looked down at Mira, who had remained unconscious through the ordeal, and adjusted her position on her back.

Ellen spared one last glance at the fallen gang before turning her gaze back to the horizon. The path to New Eridu was still long, but nothing—no one—would stop her from getting Mira to safety. Without another word, she started walking, the frost-covered sand crunching under her feet as she pressed on.

The sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson. Ellen's sharp eyes scanned the horizon, looking for any potential shelter. The Outer Ring's vast desert stretched endlessly before her, the heat lingering even as the day cooled. Mira's breathing was shallow, her small body still frail from her ordeal, and Ellen knew they couldn't stay exposed much longer.

Her instincts guided her to a rocky outcrop in the distance. As she approached, she discovered the entrance to a cave hidden between jagged rocks. The entrance was narrow, but Ellen squeezed through with ease, Mira still secured on her back. Once inside, the space opened up into a cool, shaded area, offering respite from the harsh desert climate.

Ellen carefully set Mira down against the cave wall, her movements gentle and deliberate. She crouched beside the girl, checking her over. The faint light filtering into the cave illuminated Mira's face, her features relaxed yet vulnerable as she rested. Ellen brushed a stray strand of hair from Mira's forehead, noting the coolness of her skin, thanks to the frost she'd been maintaining to keep her temperature stable.

"You're safe now," Ellen murmured, her voice soft yet firm. "I won't let anything happen to you."

After ensuring Mira was comfortable, Ellen turned her attention to the cave. She examined every corner, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. Satisfied that they were alone, she returned to Mira. The girl had curled up slightly, clutching at Ellen's scarf with small, trembling hands.

Ellen sat down beside her, her shark tail curling around Mira like a protective barrier. With care, she adjusted the tail to act as a makeshift blanket, its sturdy yet flexible surface providing warmth and comfort. Mira instinctively nestled closer, her breathing steadying as she felt the reassuring presence of Ellen's protection.

Ellen leaned back against the cave wall, her remaining arm resting across her knee. The exhaustion from the day's events began to weigh on her, but she refused to let her guard down entirely. Her sharp eyes scanned the cave's entrance, her ears attuned to every sound from the outside world. The memories of Mira's suffering and the horrors they'd escaped lingered in her mind, fueling her determination to keep the girl safe at all costs.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the cave into shadow. Ellen shifted slightly, her tail tightening around Mira for added warmth as the desert night began to chill. Mira's soft breathing was a comforting rhythm, a reminder of why Ellen couldn't afford to falter.

"Rest easy, Mira," Ellen whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll keep watch."

The cave was silent, save for the occasional gust of wind outside. Ellen's resolve remained steadfast as she kept her vigil, the weight of her responsibility as heavy as the endless desert surrounding them. Yet, amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, there was a quiet strength in Ellen's heart. They had survived this far, and she would ensure they made it the rest of the way—no matter the cost.