Souso No Frieren Novels & Stories

“You want anything here, just help yourself. Feel at home. We want you to be comfortable here, don’t we, Max?” Max sighed, eyes heavy as they met mine. “Yes, yes.” He tipped his head towards Soren. “He’s a free spirit, man. Soren is all about ambience, and communication, and…” He reached behind him and jabbed at some weird grill like contraption. “…shrivelled up tofu crackers. He’s quite the hippy.” “Dehydrated,” Soren groaned. “They’re dehydrated.” “Whereas I’m a little more direct. I like to be direct.”

"I can. I understand triage." "This isn't a company." "And people need someone willing to make ruthless choices to save the majority." At 6 AM, the external temperature hit minus forty. The heaters screamed at maximum capacity. Inside temperature: 64 degrees. And dropping. Sarah woke Maya—she'd dozed off at the control station. "It's still getting colder outside. We're at minus forty. Your unknown contact said it would go to minus fifty." "The heaters are rated for minus forty." "I know. If it goes colder..." Sarah didn't finish.

(SOFIA QUISPE’S POINT OF VIEW) "Can you hear the sky screaming, Somito? It’s the sound of a god trying to burn a hole through the world," Sofia said, her voice vibrating with a resonant, metallic chime that rattled the teeth of everyone standing near her. She stood on the precipice of the Frozen Wastes, looking up at the orange fury of the Sun-Wells. The air around her was a violent swirl of heat and ice, the artificial sunlight turning the salt-flats into a blinding, molten mirror.