The forest's cold deepened the farther Kael went, the air sharpening with frost that clung to his lashes. The woods thinned until the trees twisted into pale arches, and beyond them yawned a dark mouth of stone — a cave, rimmed with ice.
He could smell the stench before he saw it — blood gone stale, metal thick in the air.
Kael drew his sword, its silver edge catching a faint reflection from the ice walls. Each step echoed softly as he entered, his breath ghosting in the dark.
The tunnel narrowed, opening into a hollow chamber that gleamed with frozen blue light. Stalactites dripped slowly, the droplets freezing before they touched the ground.
At the center stood an altar, carved from rough stone and stained dark red. Around it lay the bodies of men — hunters, their insignias half-frozen beneath the frost.
Kael crouched beside one. The uniform was familiar: Alpha Squad.
The realization hit like a blade to the chest. These were the veterans — the ones sent before them.
He moved to another body, checking for signs of life. None.
Then a sound — a low, broken moan — drifted from deeper inside.
Kael turned sharply, sword raised. A limp shape was being dragged across the ice by something tall and thin. He caught only the blur of movement — elongated limbs, pale skin stretched tight over bone. The creature's eyes burned faintly blue as it vanished into the darkness.
Kael surged forward, his boots crunching over frost. The thing hissed and flung the body aside before retreating into the shadows. Kael swung once — the blade whistled through the cold — but the wendigo melted into the black like smoke.
He knelt beside the fallen man. Blood matted his hair; the insignia on his sleeve —gleamed faintly beneath the frost.
Still breathing.
Kael lifted him and carried him to the altar, setting him down against the stone. The man's skin was clammy and pale, his breath shallow.
Time passed — Kael didn't know how long — before the man stirred.
"You're… Corps?" he rasped, voice rough as sand.
"Ash Unit," Kael replied. "We were sent after your team."
Recognition flickered in the man's eyes — then disbelief, then despair.
"Ash Unit? You're just— rookies," he said weakly, shaking his head. "They should've sent the Aegis. Not kids."
Kael didn't answer. There was no point.
The Alpha hunter coughed, a smear of blood darkening his lips.
"We were flanked," he whispered. "The townspeople—they weren't victims. They were bait. We walked right into it."
Kael's brow furrowed.
"Baited? By the Wendigos?"
"No," the man breathed. "By the ones who serve them. The cultists. They—" He winced, clutching his ribs. "They worship the cold. Feed it."
The words sent a chill deeper than the ice.
Kael had heard whispers of such groups — humans who offered themselves willingly to the Wendigos for power, or salvation.
He'd never believed them. Until now.
The man's gaze darted toward the mouth of the cave.
"They took the others. I tried to—" His voice broke. "I tried."
Kael placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You did what you could."
The Alpha hunter gave a weak laugh.
"You sound like a captain."
Kael didn't respond. He only stared into the shadows where the Wendigo had vanished, its scent still lingering like rot beneath the frost.
The man tried to rise, but his strength failed him. Kael steadied him — and froze.
Something stood at the cave's entrance.
Small. Barefoot.
Its silhouette framed by the faint blue glow outside.
At first glance, it looked like a child — no taller than Kael's chest, thin as bone. But when it stepped closer, the light revealed skin white as snow, hair the color of ash, and eyes that gleamed an unnatural pale gold. Its movements were graceful, fluid — too human.
And yet its presence was wrong.
The Alpha hunter's breath hitched.
"Oh… gods," he whispered. "That one— it led them. It—"
Kael's sword was already in hand.
The childlike Wendigo tilted its head, studying them with eerie calm — as though curious which of them would die first.
Then, softly, it smiled.