The old cathedral leaned like a dying sentinel against the snowfall.
Jahil Roze eyed the crumbling structure from the shadow of a half-fallen archway.
Frozen glyphs still flickered faintly across the stone—residual relic energy bleeding out from somewhere deeper inside.
The place had been abandoned after the last Breakpoint surge.
It wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
And yet... the relic pulse he'd been tracking led here.
Velira Velethorne shivered next to him, pulling her battered coat tighter.
"Tell me again why we're breaking into a haunted church?" she muttered.
"Following the signal," Jahil said simply.
"You know, normal people would maybe, I don't know, not follow creepy death energy into a tomb?"
"I'm not normal."
Velira opened her mouth—then snapped it shut.
They moved inside together—boots crunching over frost-bitten tile.
The air was wrong.
Too still.
Each breath frosted instantly, curling like ghosts between broken pews.
Velira looked around, muttering under her breath.
"If I get possessed by some angry spirit, I'm blaming you."
Jahil gave a noncommittal grunt.
He scanned the nave—
noticing how old glyph anchors still sparked faintly along the beams, though most were shattered beyond repair.
Deeper in the cathedral, a half-collapsed altar hummed with fractured relic residue.
Jahil approached first.
Velira hung back, one hand brushing the relic core under her jacket.
It pulsed against her fingers—faster, stronger.
As if recognizing the ruins.
Suddenly—
Movement.
A ripple through the fractured glyph field.
Jahil's instincts screamed.
He shoved Velira behind a fallen column just as figures began stepping out from the shadows.
Half-human. Half-experiment.
Gnarled flesh intertwined with glyphmetal strands, their bodies stitched together by desperate relic tech.
Eyes burning faintly red. Limbs trembling with barely suppressed instability.
Varron’s men.
Velira (hissing):
"They're... wrong. They're not Breakthralls."
Jahil (grimly):
"Not Breakthralls. Failures."
There were five of them.
Maybe more lurking in the side halls.
Jahil stepped forward calmly—placing himself between Velira and the advancing monsters.
The first charged recklessly—arms bulging with cracked glyph nodes.
Jahil moved fast—no hesitation.
Circle-2 Relic Cast: Frostguard Pulse.
A burst of cryo-force exploded from his shield, slowing the corrupted man's momentum just enough for Jahil to sidestep and drive a brutal gauntlet punch into his ribs.
Bones snapped audibly.
The creature slumped—but twitched violently, still trying to stand.
Two more rushed him together.
Jahil raised his shield, absorbing the first impact clean.
The second slipped around the side—but Jahil dropped his stance, pivoted, and shoulder-slammed the attacker into a crumbling column.
The marble cracked.
The abomination spasmed once—then collapsed.
Velira (staring):
"He's... absorbing them."
Her voice was low—half awe, half fear.
Another creature lunged.
Jahil spun his cryo blade into a reverse grip—
then slashed across the incoming enemy’s exposed glyph heart.
The body froze midair—then shattered into glittering frost.
They kept coming.
Jahil planted his feet, shield wide, blade ready.
No retreat.
No break.
Just the cold.
Just the stance.
Velira tried to help—fumbling a small containment glyph into the air.
It flickered weakly, slowing one attacker just enough for Jahil to finish it.
She grimaced.
Still too weak to matter.
But Jahil caught her glance—
and nodded.
Acknowledgement. Not pity.
The last two creations hung back, circling.
The cathedral around them groaned.
Glyph fractures along the altar widened—spitting sparks into the darkness.
Jahil (gruff):
"Time's up."
He slammed his shield into the ground.
Cryo Surge Cast: Frostline Break.
The entire floor around him froze outward in a burst, catching the last two enemies mid-step.
Ice snared their legs.
They struggled—screeching as their unstable bodies cracked under the freezing pressure.
Jahil didn't wait to watch them die.
"Move!" he barked.
Velira bolted.
Together, they sprinted for the ruined front doors as the cathedral shuddered violently.
The ceiling above them began collapsing—huge chunks of stone falling like judgment.
A massive glyph arch buckled and fell behind them—missing Jahil’s back by inches.
They burst into the open air—cold and broken—but alive.
Behind them, the cathedral's spine gave way completely.
The grand windows shattered inward, light and relic energy bleeding skyward in a final pulse.
The entire building crumbled into a skeletal ruin.
Far above, high on the abandoned rooftops—
hidden surveillance glyphs flickered softly.
Watching.
Recording.
Waiting.
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