Fight Of The Divine Plane 8: Jack And Janice 2
"Well, about time," Jack muttered with a mischievous grin creeping across his face. His fingers brushed his ear, and with a flick, a small metallic stick shot from his ear. It elongated mid-air, transforming into a gleaming staff, which he caught effortlessly. He spun it in his hand, feeling its weight, his grin widening.
Janice's expression tightened, her eyes narrowing in focus. A cold mist began to swirl around her as an intense wave of freezing energy rolled off her body, the ground beneath her feet cracking under the sudden drop in temperature. Her breath came out in a thin, icy vapor, and frost spread across the nearby terrain. The air felt sharp, biting. She didn't say a word, her eyes fixed on the rift, ready for whatever monstrosity might emerge.
Jack twirled his staff lazily, glancing at his sister. "Look at you, always so dramatic with the ice thing," he teased, though there was a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. He was excited, itching for the fight.