My arms were weak.
My legs fragile.
My heart rapidly pulsating.
But despite that, I was ecstatic. I felt a sense of euphoria I hadn't felt since waking up.
I survived.
I slowly pushed myself up and onto the surface, my muscles screaming in protest. I stumbled, disoriented, and then my hands found the cold stone beneath me. I steadied myself, taking a moment to breathe in the air—strange and thick with the scent of earth and decay.
When I looked around, the first thing I noticed was the sky.
The sky.
It was unlike any sky I'd ever known—or rather, it was the only sky I could imagine now. A bleak, ashen canvas stretched above me, its color somewhere between grey and silver, heavy with an unspoken weight. The mountains loomed in the distance, jagged peaks rising like the bones of some great creature long dead.
I took in my surroundings—the crumbled ruins of what might have once been a place of power, the remnants of ancient stonework covered in thick vines and moss. The air felt cold, as if it too had been abandoned by time, yet there was something undeniable about the stillness. It was peaceful, almost serene, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That I shouldn't be here.
I stood there for a long while, staring into the vast emptiness. I knew this place. I had to.
But how?
Why?
It was like the weight of history itself was crushing me, and all I could do was stand there, the echo of something deep within me begging to be understood.
I lifted my hand to my chest, the mark still faintly glowing beneath my touch.
What is this?
The voice inside me remained silent, but the answer was clear enough: I had survived.
And now, I would have to face whatever came next.
As I looked down from the ruins, I saw an expanse of snow stretching as far as the eye could see.
If the blood was the size of a lake, this snow would encompass all the water in the world.
Every 100 miles there were mountains, soaring up above the birds, the clouds, and the sky itself.
But the most notable thing was the silence.
There was nothing, truly nothing. No life, no vegetation, and no civilization.
Where was I?
How did I get here?
What was I doing here?
Where did all that blood come from?
It was as if I awoke in a sacred land that even the gods themselves wouldn't dare to disrupt. The volume of my thoughts was enough to feel as though I was a true heretic, my very existence was disruptive and blasphemous.
There was a quiet unease simmering beneath the surface of my mind—no, it wasn't just unease. It was something darker, something akin to hatred. But why? I didn't despise the serenity of the land, nor did I hold any attachment to the concept of a god. So, whose emotions were these? Where were they coming from?
My mind was assaulted by thousands of questions, but instantly one became far more pressing than the rest.
Why is there no life here?
If there is no life, will I be able to survive?
How will I obtain food?
I didn't know, but with no roads but the one in front of me I began to walk.
As I traversed the endless fields of snow, I searched for something, for anything, to show me I wasn't alone. At some point I began to grow paranoid, believing there was nobody else alive in this world.
I ate the snow to stave off my hunger and to quench my throat, but it wasn't enough.
I was cold.
I was tired,
I was hungry.
The cold bit at my skin like needles, relentless and unforgiving. Day after day, the snow stretched endlessly before me, an unbroken expanse of white that seemed to mock my every step.
Each footfall sank into the snow, but there was no warmth to be found, no sign of life, nothing but the cold and the silence. The air was thin, sharp, and biting, and with each breath, it felt like my lungs were being scraped raw.
Seven days.
Seven nights.
I had long since lost track of time. The sun never seemed to rise, only casting a dull, grayish light over the endless snowy horizon. The moon came, but it was distant, cold, and indifferent.
I had no concept of what lay beyond the veil of snow, no roads, no villages, no people. It was just me and the biting wind, the crunch of snow beneath my feet, and the endless stretch of nothingness.
Hunger gnawed at my insides, a constant companion that had grown sharper with each passing day. My stomach had long ago surrendered, shriveling into something unfamiliar, as if it had given up on the hope of sustenance. The thirst came next, a dry ache that burned deeper than any hunger. My mouth felt like sandpaper, every breath dragging a painful rasp through my throat. Yet I kept walking, because what else could I do?
The snow was unrelenting, falling in thick, heavy flakes that piled higher and higher, blurring the world around me into a fog of whiteness. Every time I stopped, the cold seemed to press in harder, suffocating and all-encompassing. My body had begun to feel detached, as though it wasn't mine anymore. My limbs moved mechanically, driven by some stubborn will that refused to surrender to the harshness of the world. The numbness in my fingers and toes had long since spread to my core, but still, I kept going.
Why?
What was I walking toward?
Was there even anything left to reach?
There were moments when the thought of stopping, of sinking into the snow and letting it consume me, was tempting. It would be easy. But something—some strange, stubborn part of me—kept pushing forward, as if to defy the world, to defy fate itself. I couldn't say why. I only knew that I couldn't stop. Even if this endless walk was my punishment, my trial, I had to continue. I had to see it through, even if I didn't understand why.
The snow never stopped falling. The wind never relented. And yet, I walked on, because there was nothing else to do.
At some point between the hunger, cold, and tiredness I began to hallucinate—hallucinate the voice of a women.
She was screaming a name Kai? Kae? I couldn't be sure.
At first, I thought I was going crazy, but as the voice grew closer and louder, I gained hope. I wanted to scream, but this icy pain in my lungs wouldn't let me. Even breathing was excruciating.
'I'm here!! Look over here! Come over here! Please...'
I tried to scream, but I simply couldn't, and even if I could between the wind and the soreness of my throat what difference would it make?
After the 8th night I couldn't take it. I walked hundreds of miles, the ruins I woke up in invisible even to me now. My tired and cold body already quit long ago, now it was just my mind keeping me going, forcing my body to take step after step, but not anymore.
I had nothing left, it seems that fate really hates me.
Huh fate.
Complex emotions welled up inside me, I didn't know why, but I no longer had the luxury of caring.
I collapsed, mentally, physically, I was done. The women, however, was still shouting from however far away.
'Kael', I thought, 'So that's his name.'