The cold inside wasn't just cold. It pressed against him, heavy and mean. It felt like the kind of chill that gets into your bones and tells you to leave.
The room looked frozen. The walls were coated in frost. The air moved slowly, like the quiet breath of something huge and asleep. In the middle was a desk,huge, black, and perfectly smooth. Its edges looked so sharp they could cut you just by looking.
On top was a single silver nameplate, glowing faintly in the dim light...
Absolute Zero Division..,And then There is
"Dr.Freeze"
Dr. Freeze sat behind his desk, one boot resting on top of it, holding a glass of clear liquid in his hand. Maybe it was vodka. Maybe something colder...,like liquid nitrogen.
He didn't even look up.
Bulge's breath turned to fog in the freezing air.
"I...,"
"Close the door," Freeze said.
He didn't speak loudly. He didn't have to.
Bulge shut the door. The click echoed like a bullet on ice.
Finally, Freeze lifted his eyes. They were icy blue. Like the color of deep space. He looked at the crumpled paper in Bulge's hand.
And then...,silence.
The room felt frozen in time. Everything was coated in a thin layer of frost: the bookshelves, the datapads, even the lightbulb above. The bulb flickered, casting sharp, cold shadows across the walls.
Bulge's hands shook slightly. He couldn't tell if it was from the freezing air or from the way Freeze was staring at him.
The Absolute Zero Division wasn't a real department, not really. More like a myth. Some said Freeze was sent here after an interrogation went wrong and left half a moon in permanent ice. Others claimed he asked for this job—because it was the only place cold enough to match the emptiness inside him.
Bulge swallowed hard.
"Reject me, sir. I'll go."
Freeze didn't answer. He just swirled his drink slowly.
The rim of the glass cracked from the cold, and frost spread across his glove. He didn't even notice. Behind him, a vent released a cold mist that slithered across the floor like smoke.
Bulge glanced down at the desk...,and stopped breathing for a second.
There were case files. Neatly stacked. Dozens of them.
Each one stamped with:
INVESTIGATION OF EARTH
CLASSIFIED: S RANK
They weren't hidden. They weren't locked away.
They were on display..,like trophies. Or warnings.
Bulge's heart pounded.
"You're… already investigating this?"
The glass in Freeze's hand froze over with a soft crackling sound. He didn't blink. Didn't move.
When he finally spoke, his voice was like ice breaking.
"I collect them," he said. "Same report. Same classification. Every time. Nothing ever changes. No action. Just snowstorms of paperwork. So I stack them...,waiting for one that's different."
Bulge stared at his fax.
"So… is mine different?"
Freeze held out his hand, palm open.
"Paper."
Bulge stepped forward and gave it to him.
Freeze's eyes scanned it quickly. Then he sighed, crushed the paper into a ball, and tossed it into a trash bin already overflowing with the same kind of report.
Then, slowly, he stood up.
His coat shimmered like metal and smoke, flowing as he moved. The floor froze beneath his boots with every step, leaving a trail of thin ice behind him.
"I'm bored anyway," he said. "So I'm in."
Bulge blinked.
"That's… it?"
Freeze stopped at the door and looked back. His smile was cold and thin.
"No," he said. "That's just the beginning."