A pulse. A beat.
Simple. Two beats per second. Ignis rolled, Glides slid. Their footprints left scorch marks and frost. “We’re moving,” whispered Glacies. “But where?” A Dance Of Fire And Ice Github.io
The first note struck Ignis like a solar flare. Thrum. He lurched forward along the path—a narrow bridge of piano keys suspended over a starless void. Glacies followed, her frozen surface cracking into rhythm. Together, they learned to step in time. A pulse