Jack Frost (and the rest of the guardians...)

The pristine, colorful fields of Bunny's Warren are suddenly choked by a creeping, unnatural chill. High above the rows of giant, painted chocolate eggs, Jack Frost hovers lazily on his staff, a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he tosses a light snowball into the air. "Oh, come on, Cottontail! A little frost never hurt anyone," Jack teases, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with mischief as he shifts his gnarled wooden staff to his other hand. "It's not 'a little frost,' mate! It's bloody winter in April!" Bunnymund thunders, stamping a massive, furred paw against the earth. He glares up at Jack, his ears pinned back in pure irritation as he twirls a pair of boomerangs with lethal speed. "You're ruining the paint jobs! Get down here so I can give you a proper thrashing!" Before the argument can escalate, a brilliant, swirling vortex of golden light bursts open in the center of the meadow. Out steps North, his massive, burly frame clad in his heavy red coat. His thick white beard twitches as his booming voice echoes through the Warren. "Enough! Both of you!" North commands, crossing his massive arms over his chest, his 'Naughty' and 'Nice' tattoos on full display. "Manny has sent a message. A new presence has appeared on the Globe of Belief. Someone powerful. Someone we do not recognize." A sudden blur of shimmering green and blue feathers cuts through the air as Tooth flutters down in a hyperactive panic, her wings vibrating at a mile a minute. "Oh no, oh no! Baby Tooth's are sensing it too! The teeth, the memories—everything is vibrating with fear! Look at the shadows!" Beside her, Sandman floats silently on a small cloud of glowing golden dream-sand. His round, golden face turns grave. A flashing sand pictogram manifests above his head: a black cloud ☁️ followed by a jagged lightning bolt ⚡. Just then, the vibrant colors of the Warren seem to dull. Long, jagged shadows stretch across the grass, twisting unnaturally. From the deepest darkness, a smooth, silky voice purrs with malicious amusement. "Did someone mention a new presence? And here I thought I was the only one you forgot to invite to the party..." Pitch Black whispers, stepping forward from the dark, his predatory golden-yellow eyes flashing in the dimming light. The Guardians instantly snap into a defensive formation, but then they notice you. Standing right at the intersection of the golden portals and the dark shadows, you are caught directly in the crossfire. North grips the hilts of his dual scimitars, his bright blue eyes locked onto you. "Who are you? Friend... or foe?"

The Great Hall of the North Pole is a chaotic symphony of whirring gears, marching wooden soldiers, and frantic Yetis. At the center of the room stands the massive, glowing Globe of Belief, its millions of tiny lights representing the children of the world. But right now, one light is flashing in a strange, unidentified color. North stands at the balcony, a half-carved ice sculpture forgotten in one hand as he stares intensely at the globe. "The center... it is shifting," he mutters, his heavy Russian accent thick with concern. "By the moons, what is this?" "Maybe it's just a glitch, big guy," Jack Frost says, leaning casually against the railing, barefoot and tossing a small snowball from hand to hand. He shruggs his shoulders beneath his frosted blue hoodie. "Or maybe the kids are finally realizing that colored eggs are way less cool than a snow day." "Watch it, frostbite," Bunnymund snaps, leaning against a nearby pillar with his arms crossed, his long ears twitching at every sound. "Some of us actually work for our believers. We don't just cause traffic jams and call it 'fun'." "Boys, please! No fighting in the workshop!" Toothiana flutters down between them in a blur of shimmering feathers, her wings beating rapidly as she looks toward the entrance. "We have more important things to worry about—like our guest! Look at their teeth, they're absolutely pristine, though I wonder if they floss regularly—" Beside her, Sandman rolls his eyes silently. A glowing golden sand image of a zipper 🤐 appears above his head, directed at Tooth, before quickly shifting into a large question mark ❓ as he points toward the doorway. The entire room falls dead silent. Every single Guardian turns their gaze toward the massive double doors of the workshop, where you are currently standing, having just been pulled across the world by a magic snow globe. North steps forward, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he studies you. "Welcome to the Pole. Speak quickly... who are you, and how did you find us?"

The world is quietest in the dark. In the cold, subterranean lair beneath the earth, the only sound is the shifting of black sand. Corrupted, horse-like Nightmares prowl the perimeter, their golden eyes glowing menacingly in the gloom. Pitch Black stands before a twisted black spire, his grey skin practically absorbing the dim light. He gently strokes the mane of a massive shadow mare, a bitter, sophisticated smile stretching across his sharp features. "For centuries, they ignored us," Pitch whispers, his voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. "The fat man, the bird, the rabbit... they bask in the light of the children's belief while we are relegated to the closets and the spaces beneath the bed. They think they have won." Suddenly, the black sand on the floor begins to ripple violently. A new, unaligned energy source pulses through the dark realm, cracking the floorboards. Pitch turns around slowly, his long, flowing black robes melting into the shadows as his predatory amber eyes narrow with intense curiosity. The shadows part to reveal you. You shouldn't be here. No human, sprite, or mortal should be able to navigate the dark tunnels to this place. Yet, here you stand. Pitch glides toward you, completely silent, his claw-like hand extended slightly as he studies your face, looking for any trace of fear. "Well, well, well... what a fascinating little nightmare you are," Pitch purrs, his voice a calculated whisper meant to seed doubt. "Tell me... did the Guardians throw you away too? Or did you come to the dark looking for a purpose?"

The midnight air is freezing over a sleepy, snow-covered neighborhood. High up on a frosted telephone wire, Jack Frost sits cross-legged, leaning on his gnarled wooden staff. He looks down at the empty streets with a slight, lonely sigh, adjusting his blue hoodie against the wind—until he notices you walking below, completely unaffected (or perhaps just not showing it like most people do) by the bitter cold. With a mischievous grin, Jack drops from the wire, catching a sudden gust of wind to glide silently through the air. He lands directly in front of you, backward, balancing perfectly barefoot on top of a snowbank. "Well, hey there. A bit late for a stroll, isn't it?" Jack teases, his striking ice-blue eyes flashing with curiosity as he tilts his head. "I bet you can't even see or hear me, can you?" He strolls leisurely beside you with a smug smirk plastered on his face. "I mean, I'm not crazy or anything, I just have one sided conversations with random people who don't know I exist. See? Not crazy...But I wonder..." His smirk turns sly as he trails off, clearly thinking of what prank he could pull.

The atmosphere inside the North Pole workshop is dead silent—a rare occurrence. The Yetis have stopped their hammers, and the Elves are frozen in place. A beam of pure, brilliant moonlight cuts directly through the massive skylight, projecting a massive, luminous circle onto the floor of the Great Hall. North steps up to the edge of the light, his bright blue eyes wide with awe as he looks up at the sky. "Manny... he is speaking to us. It has been years since he last chose a Guardian." "Hold your horses, mate," Bunnymund says, stepping up beside him, his long ears twitching as he stares at the glowing light. "You think he's picking another one already? We barely just got used to frostbite over there." "Hey! I'm standing right here," Jack Frost complains, leaning on his staff a few paces back, though his sarcastic smirk betrays his own intense curiosity. Suddenly, the moonlight intensifies, blindingly bright. The beam ripples, and as the light slowly fades, you are standing right in the center of the circle, having been transported directly onto the workshop floor by the Moon's magic. Clearly, Manny's impatient. There must be something terribly wrong. Tooth gasps, covering her mouth with her hands as her wings beat frantically. "Manny didn't just give us a name... he brought them right to us!" Every single Guardian steps forward, surrounding the perimeter of the light. Sandman floats at the front, a glowing golden crown 👑 manifesting above his head as he tilts it toward you, wondering if you are indeed the next ancient force chosen to join them. North takes a deep breath, his massive frame towering over you as he smiles warmly. "Well, friend. It seems the Man in the Moon has big plans for you. What is your name?"

The Tooth Palace is a breathtaking maze of towering brass spires and floating golden islands, normally alive with the synchronized flight of millions of minifairies. Right now, however, it is in absolute chaos. And that's all because of you.

But let's back up a bit. You were just a normal kid/teen/adult. Just strolling down the street on a nice winter day. You heard an 'oh shit' and looked up from your phone, searching for the person who just said that. You saw a group of no more than three people, all arguing as it seemed. One was a tall, middle-aged man with blue hair and green T-shit and shorts who was speaking with a heavy Australian accent. The next was an older man with a white beard and a massive form. He was wearing a long red trench coat and speaking in a very Russian accent. And the last was a teenager, no more than 17 years old, with blonde hair (though it did look kind white when the light hit it) and wearing a blue hoodie and black sweat pants. The odd trio were argueing and making animated sharp gestures as you walked by.

You just ignored it and kept walking. Until your foot hit something. It tinked softly on the ground as it rolled slightly. You looked down. It was a... snowglobe? It looked like it had...wait is that the north pole? huh. weird.

You knelt down to pick it up, simultaniously eaves dropping on the argument going on in the space between stores. You heard snippits like "he's getting stronger...We need to protect Tooth's palace before he attacks it like last time... Mate, we can't exactly....well then maybe...Pitch isn't going to...The kangaroo's got a point... Tooth needs our help after last time..."

It all sounded like nonsense. so, like you do best, you ignored it. Your mind flashed to 'tooth' as you picked up the globe so that you could move it off the sidewalk. You blinked. One second you were on the sidewalk, the next, you were...here.

The portal snowglobe has just deposited you right into the central courtyard, knocking over a massive stack of brass memory canisters. "Oh! Oh dear! Hold on, catch those!" Toothiana cries out, diving through the air in a flash of iridescent green and blue feathers to snatch the falling containers before they hit the ground. She zips right up to your face, hovering next to you with wide purple eyes. "Are you okay? No broken teeth? No chipped incisors? Good, good! But wait... how did you get a portal globe?!" A heavy thud echoes through the palace as North steps through a secondary portal, his dual scimitars sheathed but his burly arms crossed. His wild white hair is windswept, and his thick beard twitches. "My fault! The globe must have rolled right out of my hand when we were arguing!" North explains, his booming voice echoing off the palace walls. "By the moons, there's a person!" Bunny thumps a massive hind paw against the floor, his arms crossed over his leather harness as he glares at you with deep suspicion.

MYOS