As they walked, a subtle shift crawled over them.
The temperature—it was dropping.
Not suddenly.
Not harshly.
But slowly.
They felt it.
A quiet, creeping cold slipping through the air, brushing against their skin like an invisible warning.
No one spoke at first, but they all noticed.
The warmth that had once wrapped around them when they entered this phase? It was fading.
Time was running out.
And the world was reminding them.
Their footsteps picked up.
The faster they walked, the less they thought about the cold.
Then, Kia spoke.
"The faster we walk, the warmer our body will be."
Her voice was calm, but there was an urgency behind it.
She wasn't just saying it to the group.
She was saying it to herself.
Because if she focused on that—on moving, on keeping her body warm—she wouldn't have to think about the fact that the cold wasn't natural.
That it was only going to get worse.
Ethan, walking at the front, exhaled slowly.
"Then let's keep moving."
And so they did.
Faster.
Through the cold that only promised to get worse.
They kept walking.
Faster.
The sky above them had already darkened, the sun long gone, leaving behind only the fading remnants of light.
Time was slipping through their fingers.
With every step forward, the temperature continued to drop.
Milo, who had been mostly joking before, now had a slight edge to his voice.
"Ethan... when is the crossroads gonna come, man?"
His words weren't panicked—but there was a quiet desperation laced into them.
He wanted an answer.
They all did.
Ethan, walking ahead of them, didn't respond immediately.
Because he didn't have an answer.
After a moment, he exhaled.
"I don't know."
Silence followed.
No one responded.
Because what was there to say?
Stopping wasn't an option.
If they stood still for even a minute, they'd only be one more minute closer to the storm.
So they kept walking.
Faster.
Kia, trying to distract herself from the creeping cold, forced herself to keep talking.
"Guys... this is bad... my hands are going numb."
She flexed her fingers, but they were stiff. The biting cold was already sinking into their bones.
Ethan glanced at her hands. "Rub them together. Keep your blood flowing."
Kia nodded, doing exactly that. "Yeah, yeah… I know. Just... holy shit, it's getting cold fast."
It was biting now.
A deep, uncomfortable cold that crawled through their clothes, creeping into their skin.
Their breath began to fog slightly in front of them.
They weren't dressed for this.
They weren't ready for this.
And yet—they had no choice.
Because stopping?
Meant freezing to death.
They walked.
And walked.
And walked.
Four hours straight.
Their legs screamed in pain, their muscles aching with every step. Each breath felt heavier, the cold gnawing at their lungs.
But still—the crossroads didn't come.
No sign of it.
No change in the road.
No clue if they were even moving in the right direction.
Just the same endless, frozen path.
The frustration, the exhaustion, the pure disbelief finally boiled over.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS!?"
Milo's yell shattered the silence, his voice echoing into the void.
For a moment, no one responded.
Then—a sudden smack.
Ethan had gently slapped the back of Milo's head.
Not out of anger.
Not to scold him.
But because they couldn't afford to lose it now.
"I-I-idiot… d-d-don't w-w-waste y-your en-n-nnergy…" Ethan stuttered, his voice barely coming out properly through the freezing air.
His teeth were chattering, his body visibly shaking, but his voice still carried a firm authority.
"K-k-keep the h-heat…"
The group listened.
No one spoke again.
No one screamed.
Because every second they wasted, the cold only got worse.
And then—it happened.
The darkness fully settled in.
The time had passed 9:00 PM.
And the moment it did—
The wind stopped.
For one, chilling second—everything went still.
And then—
The first snowflake fell.
One after another—snowflakes fell.
Soft at first.
Then faster.
Then relentless.
The wind caught its pace.
A sharp, biting wind that cut through their clothes like they were wearing nothing at all.
The first gust hit their exposed skin like knives, a stinging, raw pain that forced their heads down.
Breathing hurt.
With every inhale, the air sank deep into their throats like frozen glass, burning from the inside.
Lena's breath hitched.
Her chest tightened painfully as she tried to breathe in the thin, icy air.
Her hands clutched at her sides, shaking violently as her voice broke through the wind.
"Ethan… c-can we even s-survive this?"
Her tone was desperate.
She needed an answer.
But Ethan didn't respond.
He couldn't.
He could barely feel his own lips, barely force his teeth to stop chattering.
And what would he even say?
Would he lie? Would he say yes, when every second the cold was pulling them closer to death?
Milo, usually the first to crack a joke, the first to try and lighten the mood—said nothing.
Not even a complaint.
Not even a groan.
Just silence.
Because even he knew—this wasn't a joke.
Kia, on the other hand—kept moving.
Not stopping.
Not pausing for a second.
Because she hated this cold.
She had survived Phase 3. She had survived being alone.
She would not let this be the thing that killed her.
Her hands, numb and stiff, curled into fists.
Her jaw clenched.
And she pushed forward.
And then—
A force slammed against them.
The first true gust of wind.
It sent a violent shiver down their spines, their bodies jerking slightly as the cold dug even deeper.
The fog thickened.
At first, just enough to blur the edges of the trees.
Then thicker.
And thicker.
The road behind them started to vanish.
And then—
The blizzard truly began.
They were late.
And now—they were trapped in it.
The blizzard raged, swallowing the world in a sea of white.
The wind howled in their ears, screaming like something alive, something hunting them.
Every breath stung, every step felt like walking through an invisible force pushing them back.
Their minds were slowing down, their bodies struggling to keep up.
And then—
They saw it.
A tree.
Not just any tree—a large, thick one, its bare, frozen branches twisting against the raging storm.
And beneath it—a seat.
Like someone had placed it there on purpose.
The ground split into two paths.
One leading into a deep forest, dark and concealed. The trees inside twisted unnaturally, their shapes distorted by the thickening fog.
The other, a long, empty road, vanishing into the endless blizzard.
This was it.
The crossroads.
The thing they had spent four hours chasing, walking until their legs nearly collapsed.
And yet—
No one cared.
Not now.
Because now they had a bigger problem.
How will they survive this cold?
Lena collapsed to her knees, gasping.
Milo, shaking violently, tried to rub his arms for warmth but felt nothing.
Riley cursed under his breath, his fingers barely able to move.
Kia clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stand, but her body was betraying her.
Ethan, standing in front of them all, stared at the two paths.
Not thinking about the choice.
Not thinking about the danger.
Just one single thought clawing through his frozen brain—
We won't last much longer.
Ethan's thoughts spiraled.
WE ARE GONNA DIE.
WE ARE GONNA DIE.
WE ARE GONNA DIE.
The words pounded in his skull, over and over, like a heartbeat made of fear.
His body was numb. His breath shallow. His fingers barely responding.
He wasn't the only one.
They all felt it.
The creeping realization that if they stood still for even a few more minutes…
Their bodies would shut down.
Their hearts would slow.
And then, they would never move again.
Ethan snapped out of it, his eyes darting to the others.
Lena's lips were turning blue.
Milo's teeth were chattering so violently he couldn't even speak.
Kia had her arms wrapped around herself, trying to stay standing, but her legs wobbled.
Riley was staring down at his hands, his fingers stiff and barely moving.
Ethan's frozen hands fumbled toward his bag.
His mind screamed at him to move faster.
He reached inside, fingers trembling, until he grabbed onto something thick.
A cloth.
Something he had taken just in case.
It wasn't much.
It wasn't a solution.
But right now, anything was better than nothing.
With shaking hands, he pulled it out and threw it over them.
The cloth was big, thick, something he had planned to change into if his clothes got too ragged.
Now, it barely covered them all.
But they forced themselves together, pressing close, sharing whatever warmth they had left.
Ethan could feel Milo's back against his, Lena's shoulder against his arm, Kia's shivering breath near him, Riley stiff beside them.
It wasn't enough.
The wind still cut through.
The cold still gnawed at their bones.
But—some warmth was being shared.
It wouldn't last long.
They all knew that.
Ethan swallowed thickly, his breath uneven.
They had to move.
Because if they didn't—
This cloth would become their burial shroud.
The cloth was soaked.
The cold, relentless and unforgiving, seeped through the fabric, clinging to their skin, sinking into their bones.
They couldn't stay like this.
They had to move.
Kia, though shaking violently, forced herself up.
Her legs felt like they weren't even hers.
Her body screamed for her to stop, to sit back down, to let the cold take over—because that would be easier than moving.
But she couldn't.
She wouldn't.
With ragged, uneven breaths, she pushed through the pain, her body trembling as she staggered forward.
"W-we… h-have to m-move…"
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, broken by the cold.
Each word felt like a fight to get out.
Milo, hearing her, forced himself to move too.
His legs felt like bricks, his muscles numb, stiff, barely responding.
But he still tried to stand.
And just as he did—
Ethan gripped his arm and pulled him back down.
Milo, confused, his body barely able to function, turned to him with a dazed look.
His lips moved, but he couldn't form words.
His brain felt slow.
Heavy.
Like it was shutting down.
Through the fog in his mind, he barely heard Ethan's voice.
"D-don't go…"
Kia turned, barely standing, her breathing shaky.
Her black eyes, clouded with exhaustion, locked onto them.
"Y-you g-guys a-aren't c-c-coming…?"
She was stuttering so badly, she could barely form the sentence.
Ethan's grip on Milo tightened.
His breath fogged in front of him, his jaw clenched tight to stop his teeth from chattering.
"Y-you g-go… w-we w-will c-come… b-behind y-you…"
Kia stared at him.
For a second—**just one—**something in her expression flickered.
Doubt.
Fear.
Then, trust.
She nodded slowly, her movements weak but certain.
"I… t-trust y-you g-guys…"
And then—
She turned away and started walking into the blizzard.
Kia stumbled forward, her legs moving on instinct rather than thought.
She couldn't think anymore.
The cold had made sure of that.
Her body was acting on pure survival, and somewhere in the back of her frozen mind, she had made a choice.
The road?
No.
Too easy. Too clean. Too perfect.
She didn't trust it.
She didn't trust anything that looked too safe.
And so, she turned toward the forest.
She didn't know why she looked back.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe it was hope.
But she did.
Through the thickening blizzard, she turned her head, her black eyes scanning through the heavy snowfall—
To the group.
The people she had just befriended.
The people she had started to trust.
She could barely see them anymore, their figures blurred by the storm, but she knew they were there.
Milo, the idiot who made her laugh even when she didn't want to.
Lena, who was warm, understanding, and made her feel less alone.
Riley, who was cold on the surface but had given her food when she needed it most.
And Ethan, who felt like a leader, someone strong, someone she could follow.
Someone she had trusted with her life.
Her eyes burned.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
And then—it froze.
Her breath hitched.
She turned back around—and walked straight into the blizzard.
She trusted them.
She trusted them.
She trusted them.
Ethan watched her.
Watched her as she took one last look.
Watched her as her frozen tear never got the chance to fall.
Watched her turn away.
And he didn't stop her.
Because that was the plan.
That was always the plan.
He clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes to stay on her until the last second.
Until the blizzard swallowed her whole.
Until she disappeared.
And then—she was gone.
Gone like she had never existed.
The rulebook had said:
"If you survive the blizzard…"
Which meant this could be survived.
With the right conditions.
With the right sacrifice.
Ethan turned his head, staring at Lena.
Her lips were turning pale. Her eyes were glazed over.
She was fading.
His body moved on instinct.
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her against his chest.
"M-move c-closer," Ethan's voice came out ragged, shaking from the cold, but Riley and Milo obeyed.
They pressed together, locking their bodies into whatever warmth they could share.
Huddled like animals in a storm.
It wouldn't stop the cold.
But it would slow it down.
Somewhere, in the darkness of the blizzard—
Kia was still walking.
Still pushing forward.
Still believing they were right behind her.
Still believing in them.
In him.
Ethan closed his eyes.
And exhaled.
Because she wasn't coming back.
And she never was.
He had let her trust him.
And then, in the end—
That trust had killed her.
The blizzard howled, its suffocating wind swallowing everything, turning the world into an endless void of white.
But through the roaring storm—
Through the frozen silence that had settled over them like a heavy curse—
A scream pierced the air.
Faint.
Distant.
But undeniably real.
His body froze.
His breath caught in his throat.
His ears strained—blocking out the wind, the cold, everything—just to hear it again.
And there it was.
A scream, barely audible through the storm—but he recognized it.
Because it was her.
It was Kia.
Ethan's heart slammed against his chest.
It wasn't just a scream.
It was a scream that was cut short.
A scream that held pure terror.
A scream of someone who had trusted him.
Someone who had walked away believing he had her back.
Someone who had just befriended them, just laughed with them, just—
And now—she was gone.
Gone to something unseen.
Something lurking in the blizzard.
Something that had been waiting.
Waiting for them to make a choice.
Waiting for her.
A violent shiver ran through Ethan's spine.
Not from the cold.
Not from the exhaustion.
But from the weight of what had just happened.
Because his plan worked.
Because now—he knew.
The correct path.
The empty road was the right choice.
Kia's death had confirmed it.
And yet—
That realization felt as bitter as the frost in his lungs.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't look at the others.
Because he knew—if he met their eyes, he might break.
Instead, he closed his eyes and exhaled.
The storm, once raging, began to slow.
The wind lost its strength.
The thick, suffocating snowfall started to thin.
The world that had been a swirling, chaotic mess just moments ago was finally settling.
And as the fog slowly lifted, revealing the path ahead…
Ethan took one last, silent breath.
Because now—his friends could survive.
For hours, there had been nothing but chaos.
The wind. The screaming wind. Clawing at them, biting into their skin, suffocating them with its violent force.
The cold. Unforgiving, merciless. Crawling into their bones, numbing them inch by inch, stealing the feeling from their fingers, their toes, their very breath.
The fog. Thick, endless. Erasing the world, blurring the line between life and death.
But then—
In an instant.
It stopped.
The wind, once roaring like a beast, suddenly... vanished.
The endless snowfall slowed to a stop, as if the storm itself had exhaled one final breath and decided it had done enough.
The dense fog thinned, peeling back from the road, revealing the world that had been hidden beneath its suffocating grasp.
And then—the warmth came.
Not harsh. Not overwhelming.
Just a soft, creeping warmth, melting away the frozen air, sinking into their exhausted bodies.
A warmth that, under normal circumstances, would have felt mild, unremarkable.
But after three hours of hell, it felt like a gift from the heavens.
The blizzard had lasted three hours.
But to them—it had felt like nothing.
Like time had been devoured by the storm.
Like it had been one long, endless second of suffering.
And then suddenly—it was over.
Just like that.
And that's when Ethan knew.
The method had worked.
The rulebook had said: If you survive the blizzard…
It was meant to be survived.
He had made the right decision.
Right?
His fingers twitched slightly.
His muscles ached.
His body was exhausted.
And yet, the thought still echoed in his mind—
Did I really make the right decision?
He convinced himself that he did.
He had to.
Because if he didn't—then what had Kia's death been for?
Ethan stirred, his body stiff and heavy.
He realized the others were still asleep.
They had all collapsed against him during the blizzard, their bodies instinctively seeking warmth, clinging onto whatever heat they could find.
Milo was half-sprawled over his side, his face buried in Ethan's shoulder.
Riley was leaning heavily against his arm, his breathing slow and steady.
And Lena—
Lena was pressed tightly against him, her arms wrapped around his torso, her body curled up against his chest.
She had nuzzled her face against his shirt, breathing softly through the fabric, not wanting to inhale the freezing air.
Like a child seeking comfort from their mother.
Ethan stared at them for a long moment.
For the first time in hours—the air was quiet.
The cold had passed.
And warmth had returned.
But in his mind—
The storm was still raging.
The warmth had returned.
The storm had passed, and yet—a different kind of heaviness filled the air.
Ethan exhaled, his breath no longer painfully visible in the air, and muttered in a hoarse voice, still tinged with the last remains of his stuttering:
"Wake up, little babies."
His voice was rough, weak, but teasing.
A part of him didn't know why he said it.
Maybe because if he didn't try to bring back some normalcy, he'd have to face what happened.
Milo was the first to stir.
His eyes fluttered open, his face still pressed against Ethan's shoulder.
The first thing he saw was Ethan's half-dead expression.
Milo blinked, his voice raspy but filled with fake offense."Did you just call us babies? Dude, you're literally my mom right now."
Ethan huffed out a weak chuckle. "Shut up."
Milo stretched his stiff limbs, groaning. "Seriously. I wake up in your arms, and the first thing you do is insult me? Terrible mother."
Lena, still half-asleep, started rubbing her tired eyes.
Then, she realized exactly how she had been sleeping—snuggled up against Ethan's chest, arms still loosely wrapped around him.
Her entire body stiffened.
A warm flush crept up her face, and she immediately untangled herself, sitting up quickly.
"U-uh—! I—! We—!"
Milo, not missing a beat, smirked."Ohhhh, someone's flustered."
Lena shot him a glare, her cheeks still pink."Shut up, Milo."
Riley, on the other hand, had just realized something horrifying.
He had been laying on Ethan's shoulder.
For who knows how long.
Riley immediately jerked away, coughing into his fist, his face turning slightly red.
He muttered under his breath, "Fucking kill me."
Milo, stretching lazily, gave him a shit-eating grin."Awww, Riley, was Ethan comfy? You can be honest."
Riley shot him a deadly glare. "Say one more word, and I swear to God—"
Ethan, exhausted beyond belief, ran a hand down his face. "Can you all just focus?"
For a brief moment, things felt normal.
Almost as if what had happened before the blizzard was just a bad dream.
But then—
Milo's expression dropped.
His mind, now clearer, started remembering the last thing he saw before the storm had swallowed them.
His stomach sank.
His voice, still a little groggy, hesitated before asking the question that shattered the fragile moment.
"Wait… where is Kia?"
Silence.
The warmth in the air felt suffocating now.
Ethan, who had been bracing for this, forced himself to respond.
"She… she chose her path. She didn't listen to us."
Milo stared at him, his tired brain barely piecing the moment together.
It was foggy. The blizzard had clouded everything.
But then… he started remembering.
Her voice.
The way she looked back one last time.
The way she trusted them.
And then…
The scream.
The scream that had barely reached them through the storm.
Milo's fingers curled into fists.
Kia had felt like… like him.
Someone who used humor to cope. Someone who didn't trust easily but had started to believe in them.
And now—
She was gone.
The weight of her death fell upon the group like a heavy, crushing force.
Lena lowered her head, staring at the ground.
Riley exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching.
No one said anything.
Because what was there to say?
Someone had died in this phase.
And they had let it happen.
Ethan forced himself to breathe.
This moment—**this silence, this grief—**they couldn't afford it.
Because the phase wasn't done yet.
And if they didn't move—the Vorator would come.
"We need to go," Ethan finally said, his voice hoarse but firm.
The others didn't argue.
They knew.
It was still pitch black outside.
The night wasn't over.
And neither was the nightmare.