Ashrik slipped the recorder into the inner pocket of his jacket, pressing it flat against his chest. The device felt light and almost insignificant, but its content was powerful enough.
Commander Duan might not need this, but Ashrik felt like doing something good once in a while. He would let the former decide what to do with this recording.
Satisfied, Ashrik extended one palm. A burst of frigid wind swirled from it, crawling to Deputy Commander Jia and Winter's unmoving bodies.
Frost loomed over their uniforms and boots, encasing them in hardened ice blocks. They looked like grotesque sculptures locked inside translucent blue prisons. Only their faces were still exposed to the air.
"We can't use that anymore, right?"
Isaac's voice pulled Ashrik's attention.
The four-wheel drive nearby was now broken, its wheels encased in thick ice from Ashrik's earlier attack. It would never move again.
