The next day, Edison stood in the same storage chamber he had arrived in six months ago.
The air was a lot cooler here.
He wore the full set of leather gear from the starter survival package.
His original shirt from his old world had long since been burned away due to the heat in the forge.
At this point, the leather equipment was the only real clothing he had left—and he wasn't planning to spend more of his SP on new clothes.
And while Hyper Adaptability kept his body resistant to the cold—and the primordial flame within him constantly radiated enough heat to keep him from freezing—he wasn't about to walk around half-naked.
The wind might not kill him, but feeling it slap against his bare skin definitely wasn't pleasant.
So he was fully geared, hood up, gloves tightened, standing alone in the quiet chamber.
Well… alone except for the tiny lump of fluff wriggling inside his hood.
Snubby squirmed around until she found a comfortable spot at the base of Edison's neck, letting out a soft purr.
As for why he was leaving through the same cramped hole in the storage room he'd arrived from?
Well… he'd tried the supposed front door first.
Only to find it completely sealed shut—fused over with a thick, uneven mass of molten black steel ore.
Probably something Ornn did… which meant undoing it was out of the question.
There was no send-off.
After giving him the hammer, the Fabled Poro had simply returned to the forge, swinging its own hammer—just like Ornn.
It was almost as if acknowledging Edison's departure was unnecessary. As if the gift was the farewell.
Edison took one last look around the storage room.
For the past six months, this place had been his home—a literal safe zone.
He doubted any corner of Runeterra could offer more safety than this.
He drew in a breath, tightened his hood, and stepped toward the gap in the wall.
Without hesitating, he ducked down and slipped into the narrow opening.
He raised his hand, and a faint ember flickered to life at his fingertips.
A soft glow breathed into existence, just bright enough to paint the tunnel walls in warm orange.
The tunnel welcomed him with a familiar chill, its stone walls narrowing before stretching into shadows.
He moved through the jagged crack the Fabled Poro had once smashed open with a single swing.
A little further beyond lay the small cavern where he had first met Snubby.
The tunnels twisted and curled, leading him deeper, then upward, then outward. His ember-light danced across the walls, turning ice crystals into tiny sparks of firelight.
At last, the passage widened.
He stepped into a massive cavern, breath catching for a moment. Ice coated every surface in gleaming layers, and snow blanketed the ground with pristine softness.
Far above, a narrow break in the ceiling welcomed a faint glow—moonlight, or perhaps sunlight.
It was impossible to tell from here, but the pale illumination washed the chamber in serene silver.
Edison's footsteps crunched softly as he moved forward, the cold air brushing against his cheeks.
"Six months…" he murmured.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Then he stepped toward the sheer wall of the chasm and began to climb.
His fingers, tougher and steadier than they had been half a year ago, his fingers gripped the icy bumps and cracks.
He moved slowly. When the rock offered no handhold, he summoned a faint ember at his palm and pressed it to the ice, melting a small dent—just enough to anchor his grip.
He moved upwards with steady breath and movements.
The climb was long.
The chasm was much deeper than he remembered.
He paused midway, glancing down into the vast pit below.
"How did I even survive that fall…?" he whispered, shaking his head.
He pushed on.
At last, after what felt like both an eternity, his hand caught a ledge of solid frost rimed with fresh snow.
He hauled himself up.
Light—real, open light—greeted him as he finally emerged from the chasm. The cold air surged against him.
He was out.
And for the first time in six months, he stood beneath the sky again.
Edison took a deep breath of the outside air—
—and immediately regretted it.
A sharp shudder ran down his spine.
"God…" he hissed.
The air stabbed into his nose like tiny needles, scraping cold all the way into his lungs. His throat prickled. His eyes watered.
"I forgot how awful this feels…" he muttered.
Guide's voice, unsurprised, filled his head.
"Well, you basically lived in a house with a heater for six months. Even with your enhanced physical capabilities, you might still need a few days to adjust."
Edison let out a dry, miserable grunt.
"Great…"
He forced himself to take a few more steady breaths, letting the cold settle into something tolerable.
"Guide," he finally said, "I want to buy a detailed map of the Freljord."
"Detailed, huh? That'll be 150 SP."
Edison froze.
He wasn't planning to explore every frozen valley and tundra. He wanted to head south, to Zaun and Piltover.
Spending that much on a map he didn't need felt… wasteful.
"Okay—then give me a less detailed one. Just the major settlements."
Guide muttered under his breath, just barely audible.
"…Penny-pinching as usual."
Before Edison could snap back, his SP counter blinked.
–60 SP
A simple map appeared in his hand—flat, sturdy leather with inked outlines and a few embroidered symbols marking known settlements.
Edison unfolded it and gave it a quick glance.
The great spans of the Freljord were laid out in rough shapes. Snowfields. Mountain ranges. Landmarks. Villages. Tribes.
His own location was marked with a tiny emblem a little further down from the Frostguard Citadel—deep in the northeastern region.
He is going to need to head down south.
The nearest settlement along that direction was a village labeled Naljaag.
"That's my stop, then," Edison murmured.
He slid the map into his inventory orb and pulled up his status one more time.
NAME: Edison Fletcher
SKILLS:
Hyper Adaptability (Passive)
Primordial Flame (Minor) (Active)
Survival Points (SP): 2,600
INVENTORY:
Inventory Orb (224 sq ft)
Food/water stores
Spare clothing
Assorted tools
Note: Without magical enhancements, physical capabilities now comparable to two Noxian conscript. Congratulations—you're slowly moving up in the world.
After checking his status one last time, Edison exhaled slowly.
"Even if I run into an Ursine—which is very unlikely—I should be able to defend myself," he muttered, giving himself a bit of reassurance.
Then Guide chimed in: "But this is Freljord. Almost everything out here wants to kill you. So you probably shouldn't let your guard down."
Edison sighed. "Yeah, I get that."
He lifted his gaze toward the distance. Light snow drifted lazily from the sky—not the violent blizzard he had been greeted with when he first arrived.
Now that he had a moment to actually look around, he realized he was standing at a noticeably higher altitude.
A hill, maybe. Possibly the upper ridge of a mountainside.
Down below, far off on the horizon, he could even see patches of wintergreen forests breaking up the white landscape.
Edison tightened his fist, then relaxed it, and started walking.
This was it.
He took his first real step in this world.
"South is the opposite direction…" Guide said dryly.
Edison stopped mid-stride.
Expression flat, he slowly turned 180 degrees.
Then he just kept walking, this time in the correct direction.