The plaza had fallen completely silent again.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of cold wind drifting between the tents remained, carrying loose snow across the frozen ground in thin white streams.
The rifles stayed aimed directly at Shuan.
Dozens of barrels.
Dozens of fingers resting near triggers.
Waiting.
Shuan knelt at the center of the platform, his breathing uneven and broken beneath the metal restraint around his neck.
Tears continued falling slowly from his eyes.
But now— something else had begun changing inside him.
Heat.
It spread deeper through his body with every passing second.
Not normal warmth.
Not fever.
Something heavier.
More violent.
His chest burned as if fire had been trapped beneath his ribs.
Each breath felt hotter than the last.
And no matter how cold the wind became— his body refused to cool down.
Hol slowly stepped closer.
The old man’s boots crushed softly against the snow as he approached the center of the plaza.
Then he stopped directly in front of Shuan.
For a moment, he simply looked down at him in silence.
Shuan could not even meet his eyes properly anymore.
He felt too overwhelmed.
Too confused.
Too exhausted to understand what was happening around him.
Then Hol spoke quietly.
Almost gently.
“If we allow even one of them to live…” The old man lowered his staff slowly beside him.
“…the ice will begin swallowing us again.” The words spread through the plaza like another wave of cold.
Several people in the crowd visibly tensed.
A child began crying quietly somewhere near the back before being silenced by his mother.
Shuan’s fingers dug weakly into the snow beneath him.
His breathing shook harder.
He wanted to deny everything.
Wanted to scream that he was not one of those monsters Hol described.
But the heat inside his body continued growing stronger.
And every second made the denial feel weaker.
The rifles slowly adjusted upward now.
Directly toward his head.
The soldiers’ eyes remained cold and disciplined behind their masks and frost-covered gear.
One movement.
One command.
And it would end.
Shuan stared downward helplessly.
His tears fell onto the snow beneath him in small warm drops.
Then— something strange happened.
The snow beneath his knees softened slightly.
At first, nobody noticed.
Not the crowd.
Not the soldiers.
Not even Shuan himself.
A faint layer of water slowly formed beneath him.
Tiny streams.
Almost invisible against the white surface.
The ice directly beneath his trembling hands began melting little by little.
Steam so faint it could barely be seen rose into the freezing air.
Shuan’s breathing stopped for a moment.
Because he felt it.
The heat was no longer only inside him anymore.
It was spreading outward.
And beneath the terrified silence of the White Plaza— the frozen world around him had quietly begun to melt.