Fortress Mountain

Leisurely. Leisurely.

Day's sharp little teeth chew into his lip, nearly shaking with rage as he hurls the emptied pistol at Clarissa's skull. She breaks into his home, pisses off his boss, nearly kills three of his brothers and she isn't even taking this seriously.

Well.... Fine then! Screw her! He'll show the lousy eldritch strummer who'd running the show here. There might not be any more artic cannons to freeze her with, but he's got at least on more trick up his sleeves.

The doors behind Clarissa snap open on command, revealing the same blank steel hallway as ever- Riv's gone, no doubt fled with one of his teleport gizmos. But although there's no wall of freeze-ray wielding soldiers, the walls themselves pose an equal threat. Vents snap open all along the ceiling, spewing out the same sub-zero cocktail of supercoolants as found in the artic cannon, flooding the hallway in a split-second and then pouring out into the room beyond.

And what's dead in the way of the onrushing coldfront?

Oh. Right. Clarissa.