The morning hit like a slap.
Not a gentle sunrise or warm light creeping across the snow. No. Just the wind, louder than before, knifing through the cracks in my new cloak like it had been waiting all night to remind me I was meat on a rock. The sky looked thinner. Higher somehow. Like the world above this point didn't give a shit about mortals anymore.
I took my first steps off the plateau and onto the slope.
Boots scraped across stone slick with rime. Frost crunched underfoot, not soft like snow, but gritty, crusted over like old scabs. My breath fogged the air in sharp bursts.
The incline wasn't steep yet, but it made itself known. A long slope of cracked stone and broken gravel with patches of snow between them like a rash. My thighs started complaining early, and my cloak dragged at my shoulders with every step. I adjusted the rope-straps and pushed forward. One foot. Then the other. Again.
This was the easy part.
And it already sucked.
I kept my eyes on the path ahead. No HUD markers. No map. No helpful floating compass like the golden bois got. Just jagged rock, cold air, and silence.
Except... it wasn't silent.
The wind whispered across the ridge in broken syllables. Almost like words. I told myself it was nothing. Just my brain trying to fill in the blanks. That's what brains do, right?
Still, I glanced over my shoulder.
Nothing.
Then again to the side.
I stood there breathing hard. One hand on the axe handle slung across my back. Watching.
Waiting.
But there was nothing there. Just frost, stone, and the slow scrape of clouds overhead like they were too tired to drift.
I muttered a curse under my breath and kept walking.
If something was following me, it could freeze trying to keep up.
But a minute later, the thought came back. Not a voice. Not quite. More like a tug. Like part of me thought I'd already seen this stretch of slope before. That I'd walked it last night. In a dream, maybe. Or a fever.
I shook my head. Kept climbing.
The wind pushed harder now, curling around my ears like it wanted to whisper secrets. I didn't listen. Didn't slow down.
The next time I blinked, I could've sworn a flicker of movement lingered just outside the corner of my eye. Not behind a rock this time. Just... not quite in front. The kind of thing your brain tries to ignore out of sheer self-preservation.
It didn't feel like an ambush.
It felt like being observed.
Time stopped making sense.
Could've been ten minutes. Or an hour. Or ten years. The climb didn't care. It just kept going. Stone, snow, and wind. My thighs burned. My back hated me. Every breath came in shallow, like the air had been pre-rationed and I wasn't on the list.
I kept moving.
Step. Drag. Adjust cloak. Breathe like a dying mule. Repeat.
Didn't want to think. Thinking made it worse.
Because the wind had changed.
It wasn't just cold anymore. It pulsed. Not gusts, beats. Like the mountain had a heartbeat, and it was getting stronger the higher I got. A slow, deep thump I could almost feel in my ribs. Almost.
I told myself I was imagining it.
That worked for, oh, five seconds.
Then I caught a smell on the wind. Not smoke. Not rot. Clean. Sharp, like frozen blood and copper and the inside of your mouth right after you bite your tongue. It hit the back of my nose like a memory I couldn't place.
I stopped. Looked around.
Nothing new. Same goddamn slope. Same rocks. Same snow. But the light looked... off.
Too blue. Too sharp.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked hard.
It was like someone had turned the contrast up just a little too far. Shadows clung to cracks they hadn't been in a second ago. I turned in a slow circle, just to prove nothing was behind me.
Except something was.
Not there. Not there. But near. Like heat off a stove you hadn't turned on. I didn't see it, not directly, but something tugged at the corners of my eyes. Like I'd missed a step, like reality had hiccupped and hoped I didn't notice.
I adjusted my grip on the axe. It felt heavier. Not in the arms. In the mind. Like I wasn't the only one holding it anymore. Like something else was just barely touching it, like a whisper of pressure at the edge of my fingers.
I kept walking. What else was I gonna do?
Another flicker in the corner of my vision. Same side. Same motion.
Not fast. Just wrong. Like someone turning their head a little too late to pretend they weren't staring.
I didn't look straight at it. I wasn't that dumb.
Instead, I pretended I hadn't seen it. Kept walking. One foot in front of the other.
Then the System chimed in, all smug and unhelpful.
[MENTAL FORTITUDE CHECK: PASS]
External Interference Detected.
Source: [UNCLASSIFIED]
Degradation Level: 3% – Subthreshold
What the hell does that mean?
The notification vanished. Like it hadn't just told me something was messing with my brain and getting away with it.
I stood there for a second, breathing hard. Wind tearing past my ears. Axe heavier than it should be. Shadows stretching just a little too long behind the rocks.
Three percent.
Not a lot, right?
Just enough to start wondering what happens at ten...
I kept walking. Rock. Sky. Wind. Nothing else. Boring enough I started talking. Out loud.
"Left foot. Right foot. Don't fall on your ass."
At first it was just noise. Something to fill the air. Then it stuck. Kept me from listening too hard to the wind crawling in my ears. I kept talking.
"I should eat."
"Not yet. Meat'll keep. Light won't."
"I'm shaking."
"Fuck off, I'm not."
"Yeah I am. Look."
I checked. Hands twitching a little. Not cold. Just work. Just this mountain leaning on me like it wanted to grind me down to dust.
My breath fogged in short, ugly bursts. The cloak tugged heavy across my shoulders, stinking of old blood and smoke. The pouch at my side thumped with every step, like it was reminding me I had a bit of smoked meat and a few bars between myself and involuntary extreme dieting.
"Shut up," I told myself.
"Me first," I shot back.
I barked out a laugh. It sounded like a snarl halfway through. Caught on my teeth. I didn't like that sound. Didn't like how it felt too close to a noise I'd made in battle. With the Herald. With the mage. With the others. The thing in me that had roared back then, it liked that sound.
The wind answered with a snicker. It curved around my ears like it had lips.
I pressed forward.
The System wants me to fade. Wants me to give in, go mad, disappear into snow and silence.
Too fucking bad. I've been ignored my whole life, I refuse to disappear now.
The ridge narrowed ahead. A sloped pass with a flat rock face on one side, sheer drop on the other. As I moved past a sheet of ice clinging to the stone, something caught my eye.
My reflection.
Same stance. Same face. Same everything.
Except the eyes.
Not mine. Not fully.
Wider. Wilder. The pupils, they weren't round. Just for a second. Slits. Like an animal that hunted in twilight.
And the mouth. Lowered, open just a little too far. Showing teeth. Too many teeth.
I jerked back. Blinked. Looked again.
Gone.
"Yeah. Okay. Sure. Just... light refraction. Nothing weird about mirrors in frozen hellscapes."
I tried to view my status.
Nothing happened.
Frowned. Tried again.
A twitch. Static. The panel flickered, glitched. Red text buzzed across my vision:
[System Notice: ███████ Presence Detected. Status Effects Incomplete.]
Then gone. Like it had never been.
"Cool. Love that."
I laughed again. Too loud. It bounced off the cliffs and didn't come back the same.
I rubbed at my temples. My hands felt wrong. Fingers too thick, nails a little too sharp. Skin on the back of my hands darker than I remembered, or maybe just dirty?
I walked faster. Not because I wanted to. Because if I stopped, I might hear that voice again. And next time, I might agree with it.
I found a dip in the rock wall. Not a cave, exactly, more like a dent where the wind didn't reach as hard. Good enough.
Collapsed inside. Sat there breathing like I'd sprinted the whole way, ribs protesting every inhale. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Not from cold. Not anymore.
"Break time," I muttered. "You earned it. Congrats, champ."
I pulled a strip of smoked meat from my pack. Chewed. It tasted like leather and regret. But it stayed down. That was a win.
The fire came next. I scraped together some frozen moss and dry bark, coaxed it to life with the flint. Took longer than it should've. My hands didn't want to work right. The fire eventually caught, weak and flickering.
The shadows danced.
I didn't like how they moved. Too tall. Too thin. Like they were leaning in, just a little. Like they'd noticed I was alone and warming up and maybe that meant it was time.
I pulled the cloak tighter.
Something shuffled behind me.
Whipped around. Nothing there. Just stone and wind and empty dark.
But something was missing.
My hand shot to the pack.
One of the ration pouches was gone.
No. No fucking way.
I knew I had two bars left and enough smoked meat for almost three days. I'd seen them just an hour ago. Checked the inventory like a paranoid freak, even.
One of the meat pouches was gone.
I stood up. Slowly. Fire crackling behind me.
A pop. A twist of sparks.
The smoke curled upward.
For a moment, it looked like a person. Shoulders. Head. Arms raised, maybe waving, or reaching. A breathless second. Then gone. Just smoke again.
I stared at the spot until my eyes burned.
The cold returned. Or maybe it had never left.
I killed the fire. Too risky now. Shadows too bold. Smoke too human.
Packed what I could. Left the little shelter behind. Back into the wind, into the dark.
I didn't look back.
Because if I did, I was afraid I'd see something standing there in the firelight, watching me go.
The sky dimmed. Not a normal sunset. More like a lightbulb flickering in a room with no switches. On. Off. On again, but wrong. Dusk came like it was glitching.
I climbed.
The air thinned with every step. Or maybe I was just losing pieces of myself with every breath. My fingers felt stiff. My jaw too heavy. My thoughts came slower. Or faster. Hard to tell. Too loud either way.
And the wind had gone silent.
I noticed it all at once. Like someone hit mute.
No whistling past my ears. No scraping against stone.
Just absence.
That's when I saw it.
At the top of a narrow slope, standing on the ridge, a figure.
Human-ish shape. Too tall. And too still.
Facing me.
I froze.
It didn't move.
Not threatening. Not crouching. Just... watching.
Like it had been there for hours. Or days. Or always.
"Hey!" I shouted. My voice cracked. "You real, or just here to fuck with me?"
No answer.
I moved toward it, fast. Rage helped. It always did.
But halfway up, my foot caught on a loose stone. I stumbled. Fell hard. Rolled, scraped my elbow raw. By the time I scrambled up, the ridge was empty.
Gone.
Just like that.
I turned in a circle. Wind still dead. Shadows too long.
Then I heard it.
Behind me.
My own voice.
"You're almost there fuckface."
I whipped around.
Nothing.
Breath coming too fast. Heart slamming against my ribs like it wanted out. I looked down.
At the edge of the trail. Nestled in the snow like a gift.
A strip of smoked meat.
The same kind I lost.
Same fold. Same frayed edge where I'd torn it earlier.
No tracks around it.
No explanation.
No fucking chance it was coincidence.
I didn't touch it.
Didn't move.
Because that wasn't a gift.
That was a message.
I backed away. Slowly.
Then I glanced down at the snow again.
And saw my shadow, not matching my movements.
It lifted an arm, I did not.
And it waved...