In the heart of an ice age that swallowed the earth, turning it into a city of shattered glass and white winds, the cold was no longer just weather… but a living entity, stalking the last vestiges of warmth in our bones.
As tribes dwindled like meteors dissolving into nothingness, strange births began to occur with a disturbing silence: children opening their eyes to the world and tracing intelligible words in the air with the vapor; others around whom the snow ignited instead of melting; and still others whose mere cry was enough to make time stand still for a few seconds, as if hesitant to continue.
No one understood the source of these “abilities,” but everyone understood one thing… that the ice was no longer just an enemy, but a mirror revealing what humanity had hidden within its soul, and that the survival of the species would not come through patience or fire… but through what would happen when the first of these children decided to no longer fear the world.
The wind howls like a starving beast.
Nothing can be heard above the frozen surface of the earth except the crunch of hardened snow beneath footsteps, and the sharp whistle of air tearing through skin like blades.
The sky is entirely gray, as if the sun died long ago, leaving behind only a pale, helpless glow that offers no warmth at all.
Shuan ran.
Shuan was a noticeably thin boy, his skin pale from the constant cold, and his relatively long black hair often partially obscured his eyes.
His features were so serene they seemed almost melancholic, as if he were accustomed to disappearing into the crowd rather than living among them.
His eyes held the expression of someone always anticipating danger, even in the quietest moments.
He didn’t speak much, and he hesitated before uttering a word, as if his voice itself was unfamiliar with the sound.
He moved cautiously, slept with fear, and always felt like a burden or something unnatural.
And deep inside, he harbored a very simple desire: to find a place where he could feel safe, even just once.
His breath broke violently as he clutched his torn black coat tightly against his thin body.
Heavy snow struck his face, and his feet sometimes sank up to his knees, but he did not stop.
Because stopping meant death.
His trembling hand held a hollow metal flask hanging at his waist.
He shook it again.
Nothing.
Not even the last drop remained.
“…Damn it…” His voice came out hoarse and dry, as if his throat was filled with sand.
His cracked lips were covered in dried blood, and his red eyes moved wildly across the endless white ruins.
He knew this area.
Or rather… what remained of it.
Before the great war, this place was a full city.
Skyscrapers, crowded roads, lights, people.
Now?
Frozen graves.
The black skeletons of buildings rose from the snow like the bones of giant beasts buried for centuries.
He kept running.
A sharp pain pierced his chest, but he ignored it.
Water mattered more than pain.
For three days, he had drunk nothing but melted, contaminated snow—and even that had nearly killed him with fever.
But he had no other choice.
Everyone here lived like this.
Whoever had water… owned life.
Suddenly— He stopped.
Something.
Through the storm, he saw a faint light between the ruined buildings.
His eyes widened instantly.
“Impossible…” Light meant heat.
And heat meant humans.
And humans… Were either salvation… or disaster.
He hesitated for only a few seconds, then rushed toward the light with all the strength he had left.
The wind grew more violent as he approached, as if trying to push him back, but hunger and thirst were stronger than fear.
He finally reached a half-buried building beneath the ice.
A massive metal door covered in frost, with a narrow crack on its side leaking a weak orange glow.
Shuan approached slowly.
His hand rested on the frozen handle.
Cold… terrifyingly cold.
He swallowed his dry saliva with difficulty, then pushed the door with all his strength.
Creeeeak— The sound of rusted metal shattered the silence.
A wave of warm air hit his face.
He froze.
That warmth alone was enough to make his body feel like it might collapse.
But what he saw inside… made him forget the cold entirely.
Lights.
A burning fire.
And people.
Five individuals sat around a makeshift fireplace, all turning toward him at the exact same moment.
Silence fell over the room.
Shuan immediately felt something wrong.
Something bad.
Their gazes were not the eyes of people who had found a survivor.
They were the eyes of wolves who had just seen prey walk into their den.
One of the men slowly stood up.
He was massive, wearing the fur of a white bear over his shoulders, and a long scar ran across half of his face.
He smiled.
But there was no warmth in that smile.
Then he said calmly: “After such a long time… someone alive has finally come to us.” Shuan took an unconscious step back.
And only then… He noticed the pile of human bones stacked near the wall.
Shuan stumbles over a human femur and falls to the ground, panting in fear and sweating heavily, while one of the men grabs a huge axe hanging on the wall and lunges at him with force.
Shuan screams: “…aaaaaaa…” The axe comes down and lands beside his face as he lies on his back.
He stares at it in terror and sees the reflection of his trembling face on its metallic surface, which makes him even more terrified and his breathing quickens.
Shuan’s breathing is loud and irregular, and at the same time extremely fast…
his chest rises and falls rapidly due to his rapid breathing.
One of the men says: “Come on, come on, did you sneak into our house and think we would leave you alive?
Who are you, you damned bastard…
you will be our food source for at least a week.” Another man adds in a tense tone: “At least we won’t have to look for food for a while.” And another says coldly: “Cannibalism is a bad thing, but what can we do…
there is no other choice.” Another man laughs: “What a good day, food came to us on its own.” Shuan is gasping heavily, his face reddened with fear and sweat gathering under his head like a small pool.
The man raises the axe from the ground high, preparing for the killing blow, then brings it down quickly toward Shuan…
Ksssssssh!
Suddenly, an ice pillar pierces through the head of the man holding the axe before the blow reaches Shuan, freezing the man’s movement completely.