The intercom crackled to life, and a professional yet slightly robotic voice filled the carrier.
"Attention all passengers. We will be taking off shortly. Please remain seated and fasten your safety harnesses."
Creed didn't even react to the announcement, his expression as unreadable as a blank wall as he casually strolled towards his assigned seat.
His boots made soft, rhythmic thuds against the metallic floor, his gaze locked forward like he had zero cares in the world.
Right beside the empty seat was a face all too familiar for Creed.
Amara.
The Ice Queen herself.
She was still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever, her long, sleek blue hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her perfectly sculpted face.
Her sharp blue eyes were cold and distant, reflecting zero warmth, and her posture was as regal as ever, like she was seated on a throne instead of a carrier seat.
