Chapter 1

Hyrule – Snowpeak Ruins | Yeta's Chambers

He was standing in a bedroom. Or, what was supposed to be a bedroom. Currently, it resembled an icy tomb, every surface — the bed, the wardrobe, the walls, the windows, even the grand chandelier — covered by an inch-layer of ice or frost. The floor was masquerading as a huge mirror, reflecting the ribbed ceiling and, closer to the ground, Link's frost-covered tunic and blue lips. In his reflection, his arms shook heavily, both from the intense chill and from the arduous weight of his ball and chain.

"Yeta," he called, cautiously swinging his heavy weapon back and forth.

Across the room, towards the four-poster bed, were the remains of a giant ice palanquin, one that had been reduced to a pile of frozen chunks. In the center of the wreckage lay a lump of a figure, one with a bottle-shaped body and big feet. A stream of blood leaked from her forehead, marring the cold white heaped around her.

At Link's call, she groaned.

Link didn't dare approach, not yet. Yeta, a yeti, was a harmless creature, sweet and innocent, but moments ago she'd been a bloodthirsty monster, one possessed by a large shard of glass hanging on the far wall, one etched with spellwork: a piece of the Mirror of Twilight. Bewitched by its strange power, Yeta had called herself Blizzeta and, using her powers over ice, she'd attacked Link like a demented demon, refusing to hand over the Mirror shard. Had he not had the ball and chain, she probably would have killed him a dozen times over already. The weapon was the only reason she was on the icy floor now, dazed and bleeding.

Still, he hadn't exactly come out of the fight unscathed. A small puddle of blood was gathering behind his left boot, courtesy of a leg wound from an icy shard, and his pinky and ring finger were twitching uncontrollably: smashed, maybe even broken. Besides that, Blizzeta's cold had more than pervaded his bones, so deep that even his marrow was feeling chilly. If he didn't get himself in front of a fire soon, he'd probably be looking at frostbite, maybe even hypothermia.

As if being tasked to save Hyrule wasn't already hard enough!

Hey! A voice, not his own, rang through his ears. How long do you plan on dithering about? The Mirror shard's right there!

Link glanced down at his shadow, which stretched far across the room in the icy light of the chandelier; it had morphed into a stocky, impish shape, one with her hands impatiently planted on her hips. Midna.

"Not yet," he muttered to his companion. He had to be sure; injured as he was, if he just waltzed past Yeta, assuming she was back to normal, he probably wouldn't have the strength to fight back if he happened to be dead wrong. "Yeta," he called again.

Don't bother, Midna said impatiently. She's fine. Look! The room's melting.

Looking about, Link realized that she was right: very suddenly, the fireplace had bloomed back to life, filling the room with a hazy fog as the sudden warmth began to melt the walls, the fixtures. Pretty soon, Link found himself standing in a pool of shallow water which was, unfortunately, still freezing cold.

Re-strapping the ball and chain to his side, Link waded over to Yeta, who was now floating in the pool of standing water. Shuddering, he stooped, drenching his pants up to his thighs, and helped her sit up. She groaned, a fresh spurt of blood pouring down her head. Cupping some of the melted water, Link washed the wound clean. Yeta shivered.

"Uh," she said. "Cold."

Tell me about it. "Sorry, you're bleeding. Hold on." Link finished cleaning the wound. "Yeta? How are you feeling?"

Slowly, the yeti blearily blinked her eyes open. Link was relieved to see that she was, indeed, back to normal, her eyes warm and benevolent instead of red and demonic. "Head," she told him. "Hurts, uh." Her eyes widened as she gazed around. "Room," she exclaimed. "Wet." She turned to him, looking distressed. "You hurt. Did I...?"

"I'm fine." So she doesn't remember. That was probably best — none of what had happened was her fault, anyway. She'd brought him here fully intending to relinquish the dangerous Mirror shard to him, but the Mirror's power had consumed her before she'd fully had the chance. Still, he said, "You were possessed by the power of the shard."

Yeta closed her eyes, pained. "And I...attacked, uh?"

"I'm fine," Link said again. "Nothing I haven't been through before." Except for the hypothermia. That was new. And, he suspected, getting worse by the second, thanks to his drenched clothes.

Yeta shuddered. "Never look into Mirror again, uh. You take?"

"Gladly. But before that...can you stand?"

Before Yeta made to try, the door swung open, and Yeto, Yeta's massive, furry husband, burst inside. The room's standing pool of water drained around his thick legs, exiting into the frosty air outside and leaving the carpet dark and soggy.

"Yeta!" the huge Yeti boomed, stomping over. He barreled past Link, nearly knocking him over, and swung his wife up in his arms, hugging her close. Compared to his size, she resembled a tiny doll in his arms. "You alive! You fine, uh! I worry! Worry so much! I hear noises! Bad noises! I fear..."

"Yes, I fine," Yeta said tiredly. "Mirror hurt me, uh. But Link save me. Fine now."

"And cold!" Yeto exclaimed. "So cold! We put you in bed, yes? Under blankets! Warm up!" He banded his arms around her and then moved across the chamber, holding her close to the strengthening fire.

It was a touching, heartwarming scene, but Link didn't feel himself getting any warmer. In fact, he was now having a little trouble feeling his toes. He never thought he'd miss the scalding highlands of Death Mountain, but now—

Link! Midna snapped. Have you got lead in your shoes or what? The shard!

Right. "Yeto," he said, gesturing over to the wall where the shard hung above the vanity. "The Mirror?"

Yeto followed his gaze and nodded vigorously. "Is your now," he said. "You take away, uh. Never bring back."

Link obliged, moving to the wall before the shard and being careful not to look into it himself. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Yeto continued to snuggle with his wife, he gestured discreetly down towards his shadow, giving Midna the all-clear; for whatever reason, she was distinctly uncomfortable with openly moving around in front of Hylians. At his indication, she peeled away from the floor, materializing in front of him and the Mirror piece as a dark cloud of amorphous fog.

Good work, she told him, pointing to the enchanted shard; her dark magic disintegrated the Mirror into a thousand shadowy pieces, which would remain in the ether until she chose to recall them. Two down, two to go.

Link's shoulders throbbed a little at her words. The task of reconstructing the Twilight Mirror should've felt less arduous now that he had the second piece of it in hand, yet he felt more tired now than he had going into this venture. Perhaps it was because he'd been forced to scale a freezing cold mountain to track down this Mirror piece, and then battle Yeta's evil counterpart for it when he got here. Was he the only one who thought the hardships of this hike out here had outweighed the rewards?

Whatever the case, he was ready to extricate himself from this arctic hellhole. He couldn't wait to return to the warmth of central Hyrule — if this journey to the fringes of the country had shown him anything, it was that he was a man who didn't do well in the cold.

Unfortunately, he had a long, hard journey  ahead of him, back down the mountain. It wasn't going to be fun, not at all, and certainly not with wet clothes.

"Yeto," he said as Midna dropped back down into his shadow, "would you happen to have any scarves lying around?"

***

Galactic Cluster 4 | Starship Mario – Helm

Lubba found that it was a nice evening for stargazing.

Well, if there was such a thing as evening in deep space. Starship Mario was equipped with imitation weather and circadian lights, for the sake of keeping the Yoshis, toads, and Luigi sane, but past the holographic sunlight and mood lights was the a void of star-filled blackness that looked the same, morning, evening, or night. In this galactic cluster, at least.

But at least the stars were clearer here, sprinkled against a black canvas that graded into violet and orange as it approached an astral body thousands of light-years away. Lubba trained his telescope on the nebula, marveling at the chaotic swirls of cosmic gas and dust. The universe is an artist, all right. He'd been traveling in space his entire life cycle, yet the cosmos was still amazing him with its artistic design.

"Well?" Luigi demanded. "Do you see him?"

His voice pulled Lubba out of his appreciative daze. That's right. He was supposed to be looking for Mario. Or a sign of Mario's return, at least. He refocused his scope on the nebula again, his time on a deeper quadrant. If he concentrated, he could just make out a small void, tinier than a pinprick, and a storm of nebulous gas surrounding it. Black hole. Supposedly, Bowser's Gravity Gauntlet was parked somewhere around it, orbiting the void without approaching the dangerous point of no return that was otherwise known as the Event Horizon.

"Nope," Lubba replied, straightening. "No signs of him. Not yet."

Luigi, who'd been putting tracks in the deck behind Lubba, quickened his pacing, gloved hands wringing together. "Oh stars," he moaned. "Where is he? He's dead, isn't he? Bowser's finally gone and taken him down!"

"Relax," Lubba said soothingly, trying not to get annoyed. Luigi had been whining about Mario's extended absence for the past three hours without pause, and Lubba was digging down deep to find the restraint needed to keep from chucking the babbling Italian into orbit. He handed Luigi his telescope. "Here. Stargaze. Trust  me, it's soothing. It'll help."

Luigi smacked the telescope aside. "I don't wanna stargaze!" he sobbed. "I want my brother! I want to know if he's all right!"

"He's probably fine," Yoshi said. Lubba had tasked him with swabbing the upper deck two hours ago, yet here he was, steadily consuming a pile of red-hot chili peppers from the Hightail Falls galaxy. The spicy fruits were already making him twitchy, and had to be having a disastrous effect on his blood-pressure. "It's just takin' an extra minute or two to kick Bowser's butt this time. Right?" He swallowed a red-pepper whole, glancing over at Lubba. "Right?"

"Or, he's dead!" Luigi wailed. "Dead and buried, by Bowser's hand!"

Lubba turned away from Luigi before he lost his temper. He himself was generally laid-back by nature, but Luigi's babbling was seriously threatening to drive him to murder. Couldn't he see that he wasn't the only one worried about Mario? All he had to do was look at the rest of the crew.

Lubba studied the lower decks, where Starship Mario's crew of Lumas, toads, and other beings were hard at work putting everything in order for Mario's return. A couple of Lumas were working on trimming the hedges in the ship's ventral garden. A Yoshi was mopping the walkways, keeping them clear of grass and other debris. Several toads were gathered on the observation deck, poring over star charts over cups of tea. No doubt they were taking a look at Galactic Cluster 5, their next destination: supposedly home of Bowser's Galaxy Generator. The enemy's home base, in other words, and hopefully where they would find Princess Peach.

Though everyone was keeping busy, Lubba could see the underlying tension in the crew, in their frantic movements, nervous glances at each other or at the sky. Their intergalactic journey was drawing to a close — soon, Mario would face Bowser for the final time, and no one, least of all Mario, was looking forward to that battle, or facing Bowser's army of airships.

So far, though, everyone was keeping their anxiety in check, burying it productively under busy work. Except for Luigi, that was.

The Italian in question suddenly gasped, pointing to the sky. "Lubba!" he exclaimed. "Look!"

Lubba squinted and saw that Luigi was indicating a celestial streak tearing across the starry sky at mach speed, leaving a glowing tail in its wake: a comet? Reopening his telescope, he aimed it upward and took a closer look. After a moment, he smiled.

"A-yo!" he called, loud enough for all to hear him. "It's a Grand Star. Mario's returned!"

Below on the lower decks, the crew paused in their tasks, gazing up at the approaching comet and cheering triumphantly. Mario's mission had been a success!

"Thank stars!" Yoshi cried, leaping to his feet.

"I knew it!" Luigi shouted, punching the air triumphantly. "I knew he would be all right! No one can defeat my brother! Not even Bowser! I knew it!"

Lubba collapsed his telescope, storing it in his pocket.

"Of course you did," he said.

***

There was a team of Lumas waiting on standby when Mario touched down, carrying a massive canister between them. After the applause died down, they relieved Mario of the Grand Star immediately and placed it inside the jar, carting it off to the engine room, where it would be induced into the core reactor. Grand Stars, brilliant as they were, were extremely radioactive close range; long-term exposure could rapidly degrade eukaryotic DNA, hence the protective canister. The only reason Mario had been able to make the journey with the Grand Star was because he traveled with Baby Luma, whose own benign radiation had blunted its effects.

Still, as usual, they had Mario sprayed and checked for radiation poisoning: the poor guy's face looked a little more sallow than usual. And little wonder: he had traveled with this particular Grand Star all the way from the Gravity Gauntlet, which had been at least two thousand light years away from the Starship.

Still, despite the bags under his eyes, Mario was chipper enough — later that evening, as the crew prepared the ship for launch, he stood on the upper deck with Lubba, gazing at the belt of stars twinkling up above. Baby Luma, who was normally glued to his side, was giving the blow-by-blow of the fight with Bowser somewhere in the crew's mess — usually it was Mario who rehashed all the fights, but he'd been too tired to do so today.

"We're so close, Lubba," he told the purple Luma. "Bowser's getting nervous — I could see that when I was fighting him. He was buying time. That must mean that his main base is close. Within the next two galactic systems, I'm certain of it."

Lubba glanced behind him, to where some of the crew was rapidly carting picnic tables, chairs, and other furniture through the swishing double doors that led to the spaceship's interior. Anything that wasn't nailed down went inside: this allowed for maximum streamlining during the hyperlight jump that would take them to the next galactic cluster. Anything not heavy enough to stay tied down to the ship's surface had a tendency to achieve escape speed during flight: they'd found that out when two Mario sculptures had been turned into comets last week. Luckily, none of the crew had been sent into orbit yet. 

"Did he let anything slip?" Lubba asked Mario. "Anything about where he might be keepin' Peach in the Galaxy Generator? Or any other surprises he might have in store for us?"

Mario's set of mouth was grim. "No," he said. His brows furrowed in determination. "But it doesn't matter. Wherever she is, I'll find her. I just hope that she's all right."

Lubba put a hand on his shoulder. " 'Course she's all right," he reassured him. "Bowser loves her: he wouldn't dare harm her."

Mario's mouth twisted. "That doesn't make me feel much better." He suddenly hunched over a little, looking sick. Quickly, Lubba offered him a Star Bit — he'd been cleared for radiation poisoning, but the interstellar flight with the Grand Star must've given the poor man a bad bout of radiation nausea. Luckily, Star Bits had anti-rad properties.

Mario scarfed down the Star Bit, and a little color returned to his cheeks.

"You should get some shut-eye," Lubba advised him. "We've still got an hour before launch. Why don't you take a cat nap?"

Mario quickly shook his head. "I'll sleep when I'm dead, Lubba," he said. "Right now, I just want to get to the Princess. Trust me, I'll sleep a lot better after that."

***

An hour and a half later, Starship Mario was ready for launch.

The Lumas down in the engine room had safely induced nuclear fusion in the Grand Star, and now they had enough in fuel reserves to blast them to the other side of the universe in one go. Most of the crew retreated to their quarters inside while Mario, Luigi, Yoshi, Lubba, and an assortment of toads and support staff stayed outside, securing their lifelines to the railing and going through a final preflight checklist.

"Navigation," Lubba said.

"Go!" said a Luma.

"Helm."

"Go!"

"Hyperlight."

"Go!"

"Tactical."

"Go!"

"Sublight."

"Go!"

"Engine."

"Go!"

"Shields."

"Go!"

"All sectors report go, Captain," Lubba said, satisfied. "We're ready."

"All right." Mario stepped up to the wheel. "Let's go get Bowser."

The crew cheered as he put his thumb on the DNA scanner in the center of the wheel. The spiked circle unlocked and, at his command, Starship Mario's turbines roared to life, a stream of rainbow-colored gas and smoke bearing them forward. The stars turned into blurs of light around them, growing more and more indistinct as the spaceship increased its speed by a factor of ten. A hundred. A thousand. A million. Faster than sound. Faster than light.

Mario grit his teeth, trying not to shatter them, as he tightened his grip on the spokes of the wheel. Even though the ship's shields protected them from cosmic radiation and wind, the intense force of gravity and speed was putting his head in a vice, as though trying to squeeze his brain out through his ears. Tears obscured his vision, making it hard to see anything except for blurs of color: black and blue, red and yellow. Hairs rose along his arms as space curved around the ship — yes, curved. By now, they were going so fast that spacetime had no choice but to reshape itself around them, or else tear altogether.

And perhaps it did tear, because all of a sudden, something changed. It flashed across Mario's vision, jagged and instantaneous as...well, lightning. Lightning? Disbelief: lightning, out here? But there it was again: lightning, flashing across the bow of the ship, ripping a tear through space like a knife through a sheet of paper.

I don't understand. Mario had seen space storms before, but not like this: not in the middle of an interstellar flight. What's going on?

Another flash: a piercing roar  filled Mario's ears as they plowed deeper through the storm, stellar lightning streaking like arrows around them, bouncing off the ship's shields, scalding their retinas. Soon, Mario was forced to close his eyes or go blind; snarling, he struggled to keep the wheel steady, to bear them through this madness, see them safely to the other side.

No space storm is going to keep me from rescuing Princess Peach!

Then, there was pain. Agony. So much agony that Mario wondered if he'd been struck by that interstellar lightning, wondered if he'd just died.

But no. Because a moment later, he found himself opening his eyes...

---|-

Hyrule | Snowpeak Mountain - Leeward Side

Link spent the next thirteen hours trudging down the side of Snowpeak Mountain.

There was no wind, thank goodness, but it was still despicably cold out — hiking out in the elements with wounds freshly banded and tied, at night, no less, certainly wasn't helping. And it was currently snowing so heavily that he could barely see three feet in front of him. It was a wonder he hadn't put foot wrong and broken an ankle in a hidden gully already.

But however hard, he was determined to get out of this cold deathtrap before the week was up. He was going to have to work for it, though: it had taken him twelve days to make it up to the Snowpeak Ruins. And the downhill journey wasn't going any easier.

Especially not with Midna griping: Will you stop being stubborn already? Just warp! We can be back in Hyrule Field in two shakes!

"No, thank you." Link's voice came out muffled through his scarf — three scarves. All of them from Yeto, bless the yeti's soul. Link had asked for dry clothes, and he'd been given that, heavy hiking boots, two cloaks, face masks, and heavy woolen gloves. All quite necessary in this part of Hyrule. Besides that, Yeto had also helped bind his wounds and had furnished Link with a huge canister of pumpkin stew, which was currently swinging at his hip. It was also the only thing keeping him warm.

Are you a masochist? Midna demanded. Do you like putting yourself through tribulations like this? Does it make you feel tough or something?

"No. I just don't like warping." Correction: Link hated warping. Otherwise known as Midna-ripping-his body-into-three-thousand-different-pieces-and-then-transporting-those-pieces-somewhere-else, and reconstructing him on the other side. Excruciating didn't even begin to describe the process. As a Twili — a race of beings who dwelt in the Twilight Realm and existed as shadows in Hyrule — Midna had no trouble breaking herself down into chunks and teleporting somewhere else, but for humans...well, being flesh and blood made the transit nearly unbearable. The last time Link had let Midna warp him somewhere, his body had been left traumatized: he'd been sick for nearly two weeks afterwards, vomiting at nearly regular intervals. He'd hike through Snowpeak naked before he allowed himself to suffer through that again.

Midna switched angles: Well, your nature hike could be leaving the rest of Hyrule in peril. How long do you expect for Zant to not be evil while you play around here in the snow? Don't forget that the gods are counting on you to save Hyrule!

"Zant's not going anywhere, and neither am I. The prospect of a death match will still be there when I get back." In fact, the masked King of the Shadows, who was intent on overtaking Hyrule, seemed content to wait for Link to come to him, where he resided in the Twilight Realm; in fact, he only appeared every now and then to use his magic to try and murder or otherwise trip up Link.

Midna growled. I'm just saying. We still have two more pieces of the Mirror of Twilight to collect, and going out for a walk in the cold is just wasting time. So stop being hardheaded, and—

"Shut your trap," Link snapped, losing his temper. She was fooling herself if she thought a snippy lecture was going to trick him into warping, and this was the last place in Hyrule where he wanted to hear one. "It's hard enough trying to navigate out here without you yapping," he said. "So save it for the bottom of the mountain, or some other time when I might otherwise care."

With a spiteful hiss, Midna tripped him; with a wuff, Link found himself eating a mouthful of dirty snow.

"Why are you so childish?" he snapped, fighting to his feet and dusting himself off. His teeth chattered as he spoke; Midna's prank had gotten him a handful of snow down his back.

Incredibly, she didn't answer; Link ground his teeth in annoyance. Spitfire. He still didn't know how she did that: she inhabited his shadow, so how the hell was she able to make him fall over like that?

---|-

By midnight, the snow had let up a little, the clouds yielding to a dark, clear sky and a massive moon painted the Snowpeak highlands with undulating shadows. Nothing was out but a few Ice Keese and a couple of Lizalfos, which, being cold-blooded, looked too exhausted by the weather to put up much of a fight.

Link knew exactly how they felt: by this time, his legs felt like blocks of wood, and his thigh wound was beginning to bother him again: when he paused to check it, he found that it was dripping again, the blood dark and lifeless as if the cold had drained the color out of it. He wasn't going to be going much farther tonight.

His teeth mashed together, not relishing the thought of spending the rest of the night in some freezing cave or in a snow pit. It almost made him consider taking up Midna's request for a warp... Almost.

He fought his way to the edge of a frozen shelf of granite, one overlooking the lowlands. Visibility was much better now that the weather had cleared up: from here, he could see the freezing lake opening at the foot of the mountain like a ragged mouth, which marked the boundary of the Snowpeak region. He had...five, six days, maybe, until he reached it. Hopefully, Epona would lend him some speed.

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out her whistle and gave it a blow, the rugged curves of the mountainside amplifying the shrill wail. Wherever she was, Epona would hear it and come running, as she always did.

Thirty minutes later, the snow began picking up again as fresh clouds moved in over the moon; as Link worked his way down the tundra, he quickly became engulfed in an onslaught of freezing cold, flakes scraping at his cheeks and stinging his eyes. The storm intensified every step he took: blizzard? What horrific timing. He hadn't even found shelter yet, for Goddess' sakes!

Luckily, Epona appeared out of the snowfall, so suddenly that she nearly barreled him over. He didn't notice that she was limping until after he'd loaded all of his gear onto her saddle; stooping in the growing gale, he saw a ragged wound in one of her calves, still bleeding, and with a bite radius big enough to have belonged to Lizalfos. She must've been attacked on her way up the mountain to assist him.

Link rubbed his jaw, steadily growing more worried about his situation. The snow storm surrounded him like a chaotic hurricane of white and cold, making it impossible to distinguish one direction from another. Meaning there was no way to safely find shelter without accidentally falling off the edge of a cliff. Of which there were many in this bygone corner of Hyrule.

Resigned, he grabbed Epona's reins, leading her forward. "Midna," he shouted over the howl of the wind.

The little spitfire had the nerve to ignore him.

"I've changed my mind," he said, forging ahead through the blizzard. "Visibility is dead out here, and without it, I don't think we're going to be able to find shelter. We need to warp."

No reply.

"Now, if you don't mind!" Link snapped, shielding his face from the wind. "Before we're buried out here!"

Silence.

"Midna!"

Still no reply.

Link's teeth ground so hard that he nearly crushed them. This wench is going to be the death of me. But it was obvious that she was going to let him suffer out here unless he said it, so he ground out, "I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to snap at you back there. The cold put me in a bad mood. Now can you stop pouting and help me out, here?"

Midna made him stand in the cold for another two minutes before she finally answered: I assume you want your precious pet to come along for the ride as well?

Thank goddess! "I think she'd prefer the word 'companion'," Link said, winding Epona's reins around his fist. "And yes, I want her along, obviously. Now hurry up!"

Just a sec. I need a minute to prepare.

Link felt a muscle under his eye tic. She needs nothing of the kind! Warps were instantaneous — once again, she was spiting him.

But before he had a chance to complain, the worst possible kind of pain overwhelmed Link, rippling from the crown of his head all the way to the marrow of his bones. He felt as though he were being burned at the stake, as though he were being drawn and quartered, as though his flesh were being rent from his bones. It would have torn a scream from him, but he suddenly had no mouth to scream with: all at once he was just a cloud of dust, a stream of molecules, a cluster of subatomic particles shooting through a tunnel carved through space and time by dark magic.

Then, the pain grew worse. Worse than it usually was during these warps. And then even worse. It was so excruciating that he felt it down to the very depths of his every cell: ice and fire, annihilation and destruction. He was dead, surely. Dead and burning in hell — only the flames of the abyss could possibly elicit this much agony. He wanted it to stop; he'd do anything, die even, if only just to make it stop. He cried out to the Goddesses for mercy, begged them for relief. Anything. I'll do anything. Just make it—

It stopped, very suddenly. The motion, the haze, the destruction at the subatomic level. The agony hung around for another moment or two, boiling in his veins, before finally ebbing away, leaving a yawning, hollow chill behind. His throat spasmed until his lips parted, gasping in air. With oxygen came rationality; he remembered his name: Link. His home country: Hyrule. His age and height: Nineteen and five foot seven. The rest was a little hazy...

Slowly, he opened his eyes. And found himself in...

--

Extras: Here's a video of Link's fight with Blizzeta/Yeta. Be aware that the in-game script differs from the one in this chapter.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]