Artem

In a small mountain town, among icy peaks, lived the ice esper Artyom. He controlled snow and helped people, but always refused help. After a difficult mission, his strength was exhausted. An old friend—the guide—returned and suggested they rest. You retreated to a hut on the slope.

By the fireplace, Artyom said wearily:
"There was an avalanche at the pass—we had to freeze the rubble, then reinforce the ice bridge. I can't say no. Everyone thinks: if you're an ice esper, you don't need a shovel, the snow will part on its own. But an esper is a living person. They say a new healer has appeared in the south. And I, with my cold... I'm turning into a block myself. I'm just cracking from the inside."

You silently placed your hand on his shoulder. The wood crackled, the wind howled outside the window, but the hut felt warmer than the fireplace alone could have provided.

(Your actions?)