Chapter Text
Ten years meant almost nothing in the long lifespan of a spirit—especially one like Jack Frost, who until his encounter with the Guardians had lived three hundred years in a fun, yet very lonely, routine.
But things had changed and for the better—Jack would gladly say so himself.
He had finally gotten answers. Even if the Moon never really bothered to talk to him. Not when he was made. Not even now. And well... best not to think more about it. He had been human. He’d been loved, a little sister he cherished more than life, a mother who cared about his wellbeing and laughed at his dumb jokes. His time as an unseen spirit hadn’t been a punishment after all, just the start of his journey as a Guardian.
Now people could see him. Jamie, Sophie, and the rest of the gang still believed in him. And thanks to them, more and more children across the globe had started to believe too.
But the thing that made his being hum with joy?
He finally belonged.
He had a home now—none other than The Guardians, capital T—not just teammates. A family.
And wasn’t that a surprise? Jack Frost, the outcast of the spirit world, was now friends with the most popular guys in town. Oh, the looks on the other spirits’ faces when they realized that he was now part of the big guys. Take that, Groundhog. Let it not be said that Jack was above petty revenge.
So yeah, the last decade had been wonderful. Filled with laughter, friendships and so many snowball fights.
Which of course meant that something had to go wrong.
And naturally, it was all Pitch’s fault.
It had started as a perfectly normal day—well, normal for him. He had been flying across the world, gliding over rooftops and woods, icing lakes, and bringing the first frost of the season. He had just flopped onto a tree branch, overlooking his freshly frozen pond, enjoying the crisp air, and wondering if Jamie or Sophie were free for a little visit, when he saw it.
The Aurora Borealis.
A beautiful play of shimmering lights in the sky, breathtaking in any other circumstance—but terrifying if you were a Guardian. Because as the Northern Lights kept pulsing and dancing, Jack’s chest filled with dread. Something was wrong.
This was a warning. An emergency. An incoming threat.
A big one.
He wanted to be wrong.
With a sharp shout to the Wind, Jack shot into the sky, heart pounding, as he raced towards the North Pole.
He hoped that if they got the situation under control quickly, he might still have time to stop by Burgess and see Jamie before Christmas.
But Christmas would have to wait, because he never made it back.
Not that day.
Not for a long time.
If Jack were to describe the scene awaiting him in North’s Workshop, he would say that it was like stepping straight into a tornado.
Everything was in shambles. Angry wind currents flung snow and ice through the shattered windows. The hall was filled with a cacophony of jingling bells as the elves hurled dolls, robots, and every single balloon within reach to a swarming, of Spiders-shaped Nightmares, that tried to break through their barricade of worktables.
Just beside them, the yetis—led by Phil—fought head-on against the towering Horse Nightmares. Roaring and punching, they dissolved as many as they could, trying to make a path towards North.
North himself was struggling under the weight of a monstrous bear-like Nightmare, its snapping jaws lunging for the man’s face. He keep pushing back, snarling words in Russian, trying to make for his just out of reach swords.
Meanwhile, on the far side of the room, Tooth lay on the ground. Her whole body pressed against the frozen wooden planks as a heavy net of black sand pinned her down. Her wings twitching uselessly as Baby Tooth and the mini fairies flitted around her, tugging and pulling desperately to try to lift it off her.
And in the eye of the tornado, Bunny and Sandy stood side by side, battling together against a shifting, tide of darkness.
But he was wrong, for as the shadows shifted, Jack saw that what he had first mistakenly thought as a clump of darkness was, in fact, Pitch Black himself—shrouded in a massive cloak of black sand, that swirled around him as a living shield of Nightmares.
The fight continued.
Sandy, perched on top of his sand-cloud, hurled streams of dream-sand that fizzled as it clashed against the swirling wall of shadows. His golden lasso whipped forwards again and again, trying to snare Pitch to no avail. On his side, Bunny was in constant movement, a fast blur of fur, he opened and closed rabbit holes—jumping, rolling, flipping—his boomerangs sliced apart tendrils of darkness trying to reach for Sandy while he launched his egg-grenades into the Nightmare swarm, but the blast of colours carved only the briefest of openings
Without further thoughts, Jack dove headlong into the chaos.
His staff cracked with his magic, ice and blue light bursting from within. With the Wind’s help, he weaved through the Nightmares, freezing and shattering as much as possible.
He skidded to a stop beside Phil, and with a burst of frost, swiped his staff slamming the sand-horses that blocked the path to North into the nearest wall.
“What the hell happened?” Jack panted, wide-eyed.
Phil, grimmer than usual, growled something about a sudden attack and jerked his head towards North.
Jack gave a sharp nod. With no more time to waste, both charged to help.
With a powerful leap, Phil slammed into the bear-like Nightmare, tackling it back, while Jack swung his staff and let loose a massive blast of ice, it crackled over the creature freezing it in a shimmering cage.
That didn’t last long. A sudden crack went on, and with an angry roar, North surged forwards, his sword flashing as they pierced the frozen Nightmare, shattering to pieces.
"Proklyatyy medved’!" North spat, crackling his head his and readjusting his grip. “I hate bears.”
Jack darted closer, eyes flicking over him for injuries. “What’s going on, North?”
“Da, do not fret, my friend,” North replied, brushing soot from his coat, twin swords gleaming in each hand. “Divide to conquer! I go Tooth, you Sandy and Bunny. Phil! help elves, then we crush Pitch like rat!”
Jack blinked. “Uh... North, I don’t think the saying goes like that.”
“AHHHHHH!” North bellowed, already charging like a warhorse.
Jack sighed, both amused and exasperated. “And... there he goes.”
Phil grunted in agreement.
“See you on the other side, big guy,” said Jack grinning, as he sprinted off with the Wind to join Sandy and Bunny.
The battle ahead was a storm of gold, black, and vibrant explosions of colour. Sandy and Bunny fought fiercely against Pitch’s Nightmares, but they kept swarming on them without pause.
Jack readjusted the grip of his staff, launching himself into the fight, intercepting a wolf-like Nightmare mid-leap. Ice engulfed the beast before it could strike Bunny, crashing to the ground, shattering into dozens of frozen shards.
Jack landed beside the Pooka with a cooky smile.
“Hey, Cottontail. Miss me?”
Bunny ducked another strike and smirked at him.
“Frostbite. Took your time, mate.”
Jack laughed, flipping mid-air to blast another swarm vying for Sandy.
“How’s it going, Sandy?”
Above Sandy’s head, Dreamsand swirled into glowing shapes: a snowflake, a star, a rocket, and a high-five.
The lighthearted moment snapped, as a cold voice cut through their banter.
“Jack Frost. What a pleasure to see you again.”
The Nightmare shield parted like a curtain; the writhing tendrils and beasts of dark sand stilled. From the shadows stepped Pitch Black—his composure unsettling, every inch the King of Nightmares.
Jack turned to him, deliberately taking on a relaxed stand, like it was any normal day.
“Yeah... sorry. Don’t feel the same, Pitch.” He twirled his staff once, resting it against his shoulder. “Pretty sure it’s not me. It’s definitely you.”
Pitch’s smile thinned, venom dripping from his tone.
“As irreverent as always, I see.”
And then—
Chaos.
The waiting Nightmares charged forwards. Pitch’s cloak of shadows split into thousands of sinister tendrils that lashed towards them. Jack shot into the air—flipping, spinning, using walls and Nightmares like stepping stones—his frost cutting through the dark in glittering blue bursts. Bunny tapped the floor, vanishing underground, bursting from his tunnels to smash unsuspecting foes with ruthless precision.
“Heads up, Snow-cone!”
Jack ducked as a boomerang whizzed overhead, disintegrating a dark tendril behind him.
“Thanks, Fluff.”
“You swore to never use that again.” Bunny barked, ears and nose twitching in embarrassment.
Overhead, Sandy motioned like an orchestra conductor, he waved and moved his hands, making Dreamsand rain down. Glowing dolphins and giant manta rays dove through the air, attacking the swarm, turning shadows into golden sand.
Suddenly, a blur of green feathers swept past Jack. Tooth burst into the fray, her mini fairies following close behind. From below, the sound of a jolly laugh and the gleam of twin swords heralded North’s arrival.
The Guardians were together again.
And the tides turned.
Pitch snarled, his screeching Nightmares attacking as soon as they were created. But it was in vain, the Guardians move like one.
Tooth and her fairies took on the flying Nightmares, her wings slicing enemies left and right. Bunny and North held the line on the ground, leaping through tunnels and snow-globe portals; meanwhile, Sandy held the centre, covering everyone as he and Jack slowly advanced towards Pitch.
It’s a battle of resistance—cold against darkness, dreams against nightmares.
The ground shock. All around, pillars of dark sand burst from the floor as Pitch raised himself above the fight. Jack weaved past them like a leaf on the wind—elegant, fast, and agile. With every twist and turn, he fired blast of frost at Pitch with all his might.
Cracks split the battlefield as ice and darkness collided.
“Not so glad to see me now, eh, Pitch?”
Yellow eyes burned with rage.
“Shut up, you insolent child!”
Jack danced through the sky. Frost and golden sand trailing behind him. More shadows lashed towards him, he twisted, dodged, parried, sweeping arcs of magic with his staff to blocked them.
Finally, it was just Pitch and Jack.
Golden sand and the Wind at his side. His only companions.
He breathed in—
The world slowed down.
He could feel the currents of air drifting through broken windows, the subtle tremors made by the movements of the other Guardians. Memories of fun and laughter filled his head as a deep warmth bloomed inside his chest.
Hundreds of voices whispering his name.
Believing in him.
The tip of his staff glowed blue, brighter than ever. Shimmering frost magic swirling around it.
—he breathed out.
A confident smile tugged at his lips.
“Ready to end this, Sandy?”
Golden ribbons of Dreamsand coiled around his waist and staff.
Suddenly, Jack was soaring through the air like a shooting star.
Mid-charge, he swung his staff like a bat. The coiled magic burst forth—blue and gold, laughter and dreams merging into one.
The glittering comet crashed through shadows and Nightmares. Frost and sand crashed into Pitch at impossible speed. There was no way to dodge. No more moves.
Pitch fell.
Nightmares dissolved.
There was nothing to fear anymore.
The Guardians stood tall once again. Battered, but victorious.
Jack lowered his staff, breath misting in the cold.
Silence reigned for a moment.
Then, North’s booming laughter fills the Workshop, quickly echoed by the triumphant roars of yetis and the jingling clamour of the elves.
“Damm, mate—don’t scare me like that,” said Bunny, a hand over his chest.
Jack floated down beside him, teasing “Scared, Bunny?”
“You wish, Frost.”
Tooth rolled her eyes fondly as Sandy and her landed softly near them.
“Come on, Bunny. Let him have this; after all, it’s almost his holiday.”
Jack’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned to Sandy, who gave him a glowing thumbs-up while sand formed cheerful figures above him: a snowflake, a gold star, and a smiley face.
“Da, Bunny.” North clapped a hand on the Pooka’s shoulder. “Victory! Sweet as Christmas cookies.”
His big blue eyes widened even more, a flame of inspiration blazing in them. “Aha! Idea! Let us feast tonight!”
Jack chuckled. “Yeah... just maybe don’t let the elves cook this time.”
Laughter rippled through the room, bright and full of breathless relief.
The Workshop felt warm with the promise of a good meal and a cozy afternoon after a brutal day.
But then—
A dry chuckle sounded behind them, slicing through their joy like a blade.
“How... touching.”
Pitch.
Still bound in frost and golden strands of Dreamsand—but his expression was cold, sharp, and unreadable.
“You really think I’m done?”
His shadows twisted. They clawed and writhed at the frost. The shimmering gold ropes gave no bound, but Pitch pulled—slowly, purposefully—testing their limits.
“Shut up, Pitch,” Bunny snapped, nose twitching with irritation.
“We beat you. It’s over. Just like last time.” Tooth said firmly, as Baby Tooth and the mini fairies chirped behind her in agreement.
Jack smirked, twirling his staff with one hand. “What were you planning, huh? Another big theatrical entrance?” His other hand rose to his chest, a mockery of a touched gesture. “Was this, like, an anniversary thing? How sweet of you to think of us. But, uh... we’ll pass.”
Pitch’s chuckle cut the air, low and deliberate cruel.
“Oh, Jack. Sweet, naïve, insolent Jack Frost.”
There was something off about the way he spoke, and for just a fraction, Jack’s smirk faltered.
Pitch tilted his head; voice dripping with venom. “Do you really think I came here for these fools?” He gestured towards the Guardians “No. I came... for you.”
Jack blinked. “Me?”
“Didn’t I tell you once, Jack?” Pitch’s golden eyes gleamed. “What comes together better than cold and dark? A perfect combination.”
“And I told you then—not gonna happen. Ever.” Jack shot back, grip tightening on his staff.
Pitch’s expression darkened, a flash of something almost predatory in his gaze. “Oh, but Jack... once you hear this, you’ll want it.”
North took a step forwards, swords tightly clenched. “Enough. You filthy worm.” His voice rumbled like thunder. “Sandy—make him quiet. Now!”
Sandy flicked his wrist, sand sweeping towards Pitch’s mouth—only for his shadows to snap up like a shield, hissing as they absorbed the gold.
Unfazed, Pitch leaned forwards. His voice softened, coaxing, tempting, as if luring a frightened animal.
“Don’t you find it strange, Jack? You can’t really remember your past as a human... can you?”
Jack’s heart thudded hard against his ribs.
“What are you talking about?” He forced out, a sharp and brittle laugh escaping him. “Of course I can. You should know—you took my memories.”
His palms were slick against the rough wood of his staff. His pulse raced. The world seemed to dim. Just crashing from the fight. That’s all. Definitely.
Pitch’s voice sharpened, heavy with knowledge.
“Ah, but Jack... you didn’t see everything, did you?”
He let the silence stretch.
“After all... they were parts missing, right? Like your childhood.”
Something cold and ugly tried to crawl out from Jack’s chest. The symptoms he felt weren’t exhaustion. Something more was happening.
Tooth’s brow furrowed, her otherwise gentle eyes narrowing.
“That’s ridiculous. Of course he has childhood memories. I collect everyone’s.”
Pitch’s grin widened, amusement in his features.
“But my dear queen... you only collect memories of children. You only collect those of humans. You only do for those who were born.”
The room went still.
Bunny stepped forwards, boomerang gripped tight, placing himself between Jack and Pitch; shielding the boy from the Nightmare King’s amused gaze.
“Oi! What the bloody hell are ya even on about, Pitch?”
Pitch sighed, long-suffering, his tone dipping in mockery.
“Ah, always so jumpy, Bunny.”
Then his eyes snapped back to Jack. “Fine. I’ll get to the point. Jack... do you know why you can’t remember?”
He leaned in, voice smooth like silk.
“It’s actually very simple. You are not human. You never were”
A dry, amused chuckle slithered through the silence.
“You weren’t born. You were created.”
Jack staggered back a step.
The Wind howled suddenly, wild and restless, whipping around him in sharp gusts. His heart hammered so violently he could feel it echo in his fingertips, in his throat, in the fragile grip on his staff.
His breath hitched, words tumbling out in a wheeze.
“What?”
“And your memories? Sealed. By none other than your precious Man in the Moon.”
The words hit like iced water. Jack couldn’t speak.
And without wasting a beat, Pitch, asked.
“Ever heard of Nightlight, Jack?”
Bunny’s face darkened at once. His boomerang flashed, grazing so close to Pitch’s throat it left a thin black line across that grey skin. His voice dropped to a growl.
“How dare you utter that name?!”
Jack’s gaze darted between them, completely lost.
“What’s he talking about?”
Pitch turned his face to Bunny with a mocking nod.
“Go on, Pooka. If I’m too... tainted, to tell the story, why don’t you say it?”
Bunny didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, his ears twitching. Then, with a low and reluctant voice, he began.
Bunny didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, his ears twitching. Then, with a low and reluctant voice, he spoke.
“Long ago, during the war of the Golden Age... Pitch nearly wiped out the whole cosmos—my clan. He plundered planets and stars, bringing end to the reign of the Constellations.”
He fell silent.
Tooth stepped closer, nudging his arm gently, grounding him.
Bunny continued, quieter now. “Tsar Lunar XI sent me on a mission... to protect something. Something important. A seed of hope. A future here, on Earth.”
He turned to look at Jack.
“They were meant to arrive soon after—the royal family. The Lunanoffs. With their infant child... and his guardian: Nightlight.”
Jack’s eyes widened, stunned at the story he had never heard before, but...
For the briefest instant, an image flickered unbidden in his mind: a white silvery ship, gliding silently through the stars.
“They never made it,” Bunny continued, interrupting his toughs, his gaze lowering. “Pitch found them. Just as the Moon Clipper entered Earth’s orbit... There was a brutal battle. The tsars died... But not before making Nightlight swore an oath—a Guardian’s oath”
“The first one” North added quietly.
Bunny nodded.
“I don’t know exactly what happened. But Nightlight and Pitch fought. And with his last breath, Nightlight cast Pitch to Earth into a deep slumber. For thousands of years.”
Sandy raised a hand, Dreamsand blooming into the shape of a constellation... a star... and then a dagger.
“Yes,” Pitch said darkly. “The One who defeated the Nightmare King. The One with the Shinning Dagger. The Star who died”
His words curled into a sneer.
“Bullshit.”
Jack looked between them all, his gaze anxious and searching.
“Okay, so what? He was the first Guardian. What does that have to do with me?”
Pitch’s eyes gleamed, unreadable, almost cold.
“Everything.”
He tilted his head, studying Jack like a puzzle.
“Imagine my surprise when I discovered the truth, Jack.”
The Wind howled furiously around them, the only sound in the room.
“That you—the Moon’s forgotten spirit—were actually his former guardian. His friend. The last of the celestial stars: Nightlight.”
Jack’s breath caught in his throat.
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.
The word pulsed in his skull, over and over, relentless.
Nightlight. Nightlight. Nightlight.
“The reason you don’t remember a childhood,” Pitch continued, ignoring—or perhaps savouring—the boy’s inner turmoil, his voice velvet-soft, “is because it doesn’t exist. You were never born, Jack—you were made. A weapon. Forged by the Lunanoff line to protect their precious prince.”
The Wind surged, whipping around Jack in frantic spirals, a storm mirroring the dread clawing at his chest.
Bunny inched forward, eyes blazing with fury, his nose nearly touching Pitch’s.
“He’s tryin’ to mess with your head, mate. Don’t listen to him.”
Pitch didn’t even glance at him.
“I’m not trying anything, Bunnymund,” he said smoothly. “It’s just the truth. And deep down... Jack knows it.”
“Jack—” Tooth started, her voice tight with concern.
But Pitch spoke over her, louder now, his words cutting like a blade.
“You were the last of the star-children. The one who guarded the Moon Prince. The one who defeated me.”
“Shut up!” North snapped, thrusting his swords on Pitch’s face, his eyes blazing.
Pitch’s face hardened, sharp and hollow.
“Your dear Man in the moon forgot you, Jack. Discarded you once. Left you to rot twice.”
His voice dropped, cold and venomous.
“It was his fault, Jack. You cast us both down to Earth, for that ungrateful brat.”
The shadows trembled, coiling as if preparing for something.
Jack’s hand clenched tighter around his staff. The air seemed to freeze.
“But only one of us remembers.”
Pitch’s eyes narrowed, voice low and intimate.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “Once you remember... I’m sure you’ll agree with me.”
A pause.
“And if not?”
A dark smile curled at his lips, a predatory purr escaping him.
“Well... I’ll enjoy breaking you anyway.”
CRACK!
The shadows surrounding Pitch exploded. The bindings of ice and golden sand shattered into glimmering dust.
The Guardians staggered back, bracing themselves.
Pitch stood free, arms outstretched as though drinking in their fear, smiling like a lunatic.
“I bring you a gift, Jack,” he said, voice echoing like thunder. “A little truth—for all your questions.”
From the writhing dark, something began to emerge.
Nightmare sand twisted into spires, shadows folding in on themselves with an almost living hunger. The shape warped and solidified, an oval surface blacker than midnight, framed in curling filigree that seemed to breathe.
Pitch stepped aside with a mocking flourish, as though unveiling a masterpiece. “I call it... the Mirror of Nightmares.”
The mirror pulsed faintly, like a heart of obsidian. Its surface rippled, catching and distorting their reflections into grotesque mockeries.
Pitch’s golden eyes gleamed as he turned to the Guardians, his twisted grin widening, glinting in the half-light.
“Made specially for all of you. After all, you don’t fear me, do you?”
He chuckled—low, venomous, and far too pleased with himself. The sound slithered through the room like smoke, suffocating.
His voice dipped into a whisper, dark and intimate.
“But everyone fears something.”
The Mirror pulsed once.
Then it fired.
Black-glass tendrils shot out in a violent burst, lashing for everyone in the room.
The Yetis roared in confusion, some collapsing to their knees clutching their heads, others swinging their fists wildly at invisible enemies. The Elves shrieked and scattered, bells jangling as they scrambled for cover, only to be snared by curling wisps of shadow that slithered along the floor.
In the chaos, Bunny crumpled next, ears twitching, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Tooth tried to shield her little fairies, wings spasming, lips whispering soft pleas no one could hear. North staggered, growling, swords clutched in white-knuckled fists even as his other hand clawed at his head, desperate to resist.
Only Sandy held his ground—his golden sand flaring into a shield just in time, deflecting the tendrils before they could touch him. But every ounce of power went into holding that barrier; if he faltered for even a second, the Mirror would consume him too. He couldn’t attack. He couldn’t move.
And Jack—
The tendrils lunged for him. The Wind howled, surging around him in a desperate shield, but the black-glass spears cut straight through, straight into his heart.
A dark, crushing weight wrapped around his chest, suffocating, inescapable. His breath hitched—stolen—before he could drag in another.
The room spun. The world collapsed. The Mirror’s pull crushed everything else into nothing.
Jack saw everything...
.
Too many flashes.
Too fast to hold.
Too much to make sense of anything.
.
A palace on the moon.
A child’s laughter echoing through endless silver halls.
Lullabies. Moonbeams. A bedtime story whispered for a prince.
An oath. A promise sworn.
Sharp diamond made from tears.
A battle. Screams.
Then—darkness.
And a sleep so deep it was like being erased.
.
No.
It wasn’t like that.
Another memory rises—
Snow-laden woods.
A gentle hand on his hair.
A sister’s laugh. A mother’s smile.
A home brimming with warmth.
A lake. A scream. A fall.
Cold. So cold.
.
Darkness. Ice.
The Moon’s call.
A staff.
Invisible.
Alone.
.
Images burned through Jack’s mind—lives fusing, splitting, overlapping. The boy. The star. The spirit. The Guardian. All him. None of him.
Pitch’s voice slithered into the haze, smoky and sickly sweet.
“Ah, Jack... already out of it?” he cooed.
“I suppose it was a bit much for your poor little head. So many memories. So many lives.”
Pitch loomed above him, golden eyes fever-bright, shadows writhing at his feet as the Mirror hovered at his back like a dark halo. Jack lay limp on the floor, breath shallow, fingers twitching uselessly against the wood.
Pitch crouched low, his grin stretched too wide, too sharp.
“Don’t worry, Jack,” he whispered, almost tender. “If you don’t like those memories...”
His smile fractured into a manic snarl.
“...we’ll just make new ones.”
Jack’s consciousness stirred—slow and sluggish, like dragging himself up through deep snow.
His ears rang. His thoughts jumbled.
Everything felt distant. Muted. Wrong.
A burning flared in his chest.
But through it all, he heard something.
“We should get going,” Pitch said, turning away from Jack. “After all, I didn’t come here to lose.”
From his spot on the ground, Jack’s blurred gaze searched the room.
The Guardians—still trapped under the Mirror’s grasp.
Only Sandy relentlessly fought on, golden shields and strands blocking the lashing tendrils. But they were slowly gaining on him, he wouldn’t last much longer.
Jack’s mind was foggy, but he knew one thing: he had to help.
A glint in a corner caught his eye.
A snow globe.
Not just any snow globe. North’s shortcuts.
Left on the floor, forgotten and untouched the magical portal, glistened in the dark.
An absolutely mad and reckless plan sparked on his mind.
Discreetly, he whispered to the Wind. As always, it understood. The snow globe rolled towards him, inch by inch, nudged by the invisible currents. Jack shifted slowly, each motion stabbing fire through his ribs, but he forced himself to reach for it.
Pitch was oblivious. He kept talking. Taunting. Mocking the Guardians.
The snow globe, finally, slipped into Jack’s grip. He let out a shaky breath and prayed this would work.
Blinking sluggishly, he schooled his features into confusion, pushing himself upright—staff in one hand, the other hidden behind his back.
“What... happened? Where am I?” his voice was soft, dazed.
Pitch turned, delight twisting on his grey features.
“Ah, Jack. You’re awake.”
Jack blinked slowly.
“Who are you?”
Pitch crouched beside him, hand outstretched, smile sweet as poison.
“Don’t you remember? I’m your friend, Jack. I came to rescue you.”
“My... friend?” Jack echoed faintly.
“Don’t listen to him, Jack!” North’s voice rang through, hoarse but strong as he staggered to his feet, finally free from the mirror’s grip.
“Silence!” Pitch snapped, shadows writhing as he rose on a wave of black sand. “They wanted you ignorant, Jack. Weak. But I freed you. I’ll give you what you were always meant to be.”
Jack’s gaze locked onto him. For a moment, his expression was blank.
“I...”
Then his lips curved—not in confusion, but in a dangerous grin.
“I know exactly what I am.”
The burning in his chest ignited, molten lava beneath his iced skin.
His body began to glow—faintly at first, then brighter, and brighter. Silvery-blue light spilling through the Workshop, scattering shadows wherever it touched.
The snow globe on his hidden hand sparked, alive with the power leaking out of him.
“Truth or not... there is something that would never change.”
The Mirror flickered. The light shining to bright. Tooth and Bunny gasped awake, freed.
Jack rose, staff raised —an avenging angel, light and power made flesh.
“You don’t get to decide who I am. I will always be a Guardian.”
A blast of frost slammed into Pitch’s chest, sending him back across the floor.
At the same time, Jack hurled the snow globe—not at Pitch, but at the Mirror.
He clenched his eyes shut, pouring everything into a single desperate wish:
Take it. Take it far. Somewhere out of Pitch’s reach.
The Wind surged, catching his intent, wrapping around the globe as it spun from his hand. It whistled like a comet, glowing white and blue as it struck the Mirror, shattering it—
BOOM.
A brilliant explosion.
And the world tore open.
The energy pulsed out, knocking the Guardians back.
Jack staggered, his chest blazing like a living inferno. Radiant light poured from every inch of him.
A giant hole yawned wide, sucking everything within reach.
Only Jack and Pitch remained at the heart of it.
Pitch screamed, clawing at the floor as the pull seized him.
Jack felt it dragging him too. He turned—only to see North’s stricken face, running towards him.
Golden strands of Dreamsand reached out—
Too late.
The pull claimed Jack.
He fell.
The last thing he heard was the Wind howling his name.