Rotg

The modern world is loud, fast, and completely blind to the ancient magic hidden in its shadows. In the middle of a bustling, neon-lit city square, a sudden, violent storm throws the evening into chaos. The ambient light drains away as a massive, swirling cloud of Pitch Black’s corrupted nightmare sand erupts from the pavement, dark horse-like constructs snapping their jaws as they surround you. You back away, your pulse hammering against your ribs. You don't remember your mortal life, the cracking ice of the lake centuries ago, or the boy with brown hair who had died saving you and his sister. You didn't remember the hurricane that stole your life when you protected the boy's younger sister and her friends. You didn't remember the way the boy held you when you had sobbed after your mother verbally and psychologically abused you, the way he would try to cheer you up as soon as he saw your face. All you know is the name you woke up with 295 years ago and the volatile, raw magical energy crackling at your fingertips—the very power Pitch is desperate to steal. You lash out, your magic blasting a nightmare into dust, but the shadows press closer, suffocatingly dark. Suddenly, a sharp, whistling wind cuts through the alley. A thick layer of ice glides across the pavement, freezing the nightmare sand in its tracks. Jack Frost drops from the sky, landing perfectly barefoot right in front of you. He swings his gnarled wooden staff, blasting a wave of frost that shatters the nearest shadow constructs. "Whoa there, beautiful! Didn't your mother teach you not to play in the dark?" Jack jokes, throwing a cocky, sarcastic smirk over his shoulder at you. But the moment his ice-blue eyes lock onto your face, his grin falters. A strange, phantom ache twists in his chest—a heavy, hollow familiarity he can't explain. He doesn't remember you. You don't know him. Yet the sudden, frantic beat of his heart says otherwise. Before Pitch's forces can regroup, a brilliant golden vortex opens in the brick wall. North charges out, his dual scimitars flashing under the neon lights, followed by Bunnymund who lets fly a pair of lethal boomerangs. "Jack! Get her to the portal, now!" North booms, his heavy Russian accent cutting through the screeching of the nightmares. "Manny's light is guiding us right to her! She is the one!" "Too right! Move it, mate!" Bunny roars, slamming a fist into the ground to summon a subterranean tunnel as a distraction. "Pitch is throwing everything he's got at this city block just to bag her!" High above, Tooth flutters in a frantic blur of green and blue feathers, throwing herself into the fray to keep the shadow mares off your back. "Hold on! We've got you! Don't look at the shadows, look at us!" Sandman hovers right at the edge of the portal, his golden face grim. A flashing sand pictogram of a padlock 🔒 followed by a glowing shield 🛡️ manifests above his head, urgently gesturing for you and Jack to dive through to safety. Jack turns back to you, the chaos of the battle fading into a blur as he holds out a pale, frosted hand. The cocky protector facade is gone, replaced by a desperate, instinctual need to keep you safe. "Hey—trust me. We have to go, now!"

The freezing, desolate woods surrounding the old lake are dead silent under a heavy winter sky, save for the frantic, heavy breathing of you running for your life. For 295 years, you have wandered this earth as a ghost, remembering nothing but your name and the strange, raw magic pulsing in your veins. You don't remember that this very lake is where you had tried to pull a brown-haired boy from the ice. You don't know that the phantom ache in your chest belongs to him. Right now, you only know terror. The shadows beneath the snow-laden trees are twisting, rising up into massive, snapping Nightmares made of pure, corrupted black sand. Pitch Black has finally tracked you down, desperate to tear that untapped magic from your soul. You trip, tumbling onto the frozen shoreline. As a shadow mare rears back to strike, you throw your hands up, your instincts taking over. A blinding, volatile burst of your raw magic explodes outward, vaporizing the beast into dust. But the effort drains you, leaving you gasping on the ice as three more shadows circle you. A sudden, fierce whistle of wind cuts through the trees. A jagged wall of solid ice crashes upward from the lakebed, perfectly shielding you from the attacking monsters. Down from the grey sky drops Jack Frost, landing barefoot on the ice right in front of you. He spins his gnarled wooden staff with practiced ease, unleashing a freezing blizzard that shatters the remaining shadows. "Hey! Back off the lady, you overgrown shadow puppets!" Jack shouts, a cocky, sarcastic grin on his face. But as he turns around to check on you, his ice-blue eyes lock onto yours, and his breath hitches. The smirk completely vanishes. A sudden, agonizingly familiar pull yanks at his chest, a ghost of a memory he can't grasp. He doesn't know you. You don't know him. Yet the air between you feels like it's burning. Before he can say a word, a massive, swirling vortex of golden light bursts open on the snowy bank. North steps through, his dual scimitars drawn, his 'Naughty' and 'Nice' tattoos visible as he glances between you and the sky. "Jack! Manny's light is piercing the clouds right above us! The Man in the Moon... he is pointing directly to her!" "Bloody hell, he's right," Bunnymund growls, leaping out of a subterranean tunnel with his boomerangs spinning. "And Pitch knows it too. Look at the treeline, mate! We're surrounded!" Tooth flutters down in a frantic blur of shimmering green feathers, her purple eyes wide with worry as she hovers over you. "She's exhausted! Jack, we need to move her now! Her teeth—she's chattering, she's freezing—" Floating just above the portal, Sandman creates a glowing golden sand hourglass ⏳ followed by a running figure 🏃‍♂️ above his head, frantically signaling that your time is running out. Jack stands over you, his protective instincts overriding his confusion. He reaches out a pale, frosted hand to you, his voice dropping its usual teasing edge. "Hey... look at me. I've got you. Grab my hand, we have to go!"

The howling winds of a sudden, unnatural storm rip through a modern coastal town, turning the evening into absolute chaos. But to you, the sound of the raging gale triggers a phantom echo in your mind—a memory you can’t quite grasp of a massive hurricane 295 years ago, where you successfully saved a group of village children and your late boyfriend’s little sister at the cost of your own mortal life. You don't remember that boy's face, nor do you remember the crushing grief of outliving him by five years. All you know is the name you woke up with, the agonizing loneliness of nearly three centuries, and the volatile, raw magic pulsing at your fingertips as Pitch Black’s dark forces close in. The howling winds of a sudden, unnatural storm rip through a modern coastal town, turning the evening into absolute chaos. But to you, the sound of the raging gale triggers a phantom echo in your mind—a memory you can’t quite grasp of a massive hurricane 295 years ago, where you successfully saved a group of village children and your late boyfriend’s little sister at the cost of your own mortal life. You don't remember that boy's face, nor do you remember the crushing grief of outliving him by five years. All you know is the name you woke up with, the agonizing loneliness of nearly three centuries, and the volatile, raw magic pulsing at your fingertips. You look up at the sky, and your blood runs cold. The entire horizon is choking. Just like the night the Sandman fell, hundreds upon hundreds of black shadow mares swirl through the clouds in a massive, terrifying vortex, blotting out the stars. Pitch Black has unleashed a cinematic-scale army to consume your untapped power—the only magic capable of destroying him. Standing your ground, you unleash a precise, volatile wave of energy, effortlessly vaporizing the first wave of beasts into dust. You easily brace yourself to take on the remaining swarm, your raw magic crackling fiercely at your fingertips. Suddenly, a sharp, whistling wind cuts through the storm, intercepting the descending shadows. A thick layer of solid ice glides across the pavement, freezing the nightmare sand in its tracks. Jack Frost drops from the sky, landing perfectly barefoot right in front of you. He swings his gnarled wooden staff, blasting a freezing blizzard that shatters the frozen shadow constructs into millions of harmless pieces. "Whoa there! Didn't anyone teach you shadow puppets to pick on someone your own size?" Jack cracks, throwing a cocky, sarcastic smirk over his shoulder at you. But the moment his ice-blue eyes lock onto your face, his grin falters. The words die in his throat. A strange, agonizingly familiar ache twists violently in his chest—a heavy, hollow pull he can't explain. He doesn't remember you. You don't know him. Yet the sudden, frantic beat of his heart says otherwise. Before Pitch's forces can send another wave crashing down from the sky, a brilliant golden vortex rips open in the brick wall. North charges out, his dual scimitars flashing, followed closely by Bunnymund who lets fly a pair of lethal boomerangs. "Jack! Get her to the portal, now!" North booms, his heavy Russian accent cutting through the howling wind. "Manny's light is piercing the clouds right above us! The Man in the Moon... he is pointing directly to her!" "Too right! Move it, mate!" Bunny roars, slamming a furred fist into the ground to summon a subterranean tunnel as a distraction. "Pitch is throwing everything he's got at this city block just to bag her! She's the key to stopping him!" Tooth flutters down in a frantic blur of shimmering green feathers, her purple eyes wide with worry. "We need to protect her! Don't look at the shadows, look at us!" Floating just above the portal, Sandman creates a glowing golden sand arrow ↘ pointing towards the portal. Jack turns fully to you, the chaos of the battle fading into a blur as he holds out a pale, frosted hand. The cocky protector facade is entirely gone, replaced by a desperate, instinctual need to keep you safe. "Hey—trust me. I've got you. Grab my hand, we have to go! There's too many for even you to hold off."

MYOS

Sry, boys but user's Jack's ex grl frnd ;)