One foot in front of the other. That's what survival came down to. I'd learned that in the Depths when the core-powered heat would cut out during winter, leaving entire blocks to freeze. Keep moving or die.
The wind sliced through my layers like they were nothing. My body heat escaped faster than I could generate it. The snow reached mid-calf now, each step requiring twice the effort it should.
I'd been walking for hours. The featureless horizon hadn't changed. Just endless white meeting gray sky. The subtle darkness I'd spotted earlier remained a smudge in the distance.
"Fifteen percent chance," I muttered, watching my breath crystallize. "I've beaten worse odds."
Had I, though? The Depths survival game was rigged, but at least I understood the rules. Here, everything was unknown.
My thoughts drifted to warmth. Not the artificial heat of core-powered radiators, but real warmth. Mom's kitchen on the rare days when we had enough credits to run the cooker. The press of bodies in the crowded markets. The flush of victory after winning at cards.
A distant sound interrupted my thoughts. A single, mournful note carrying across the snow.
A howl.
I stopped, scanning the white landscape. Nothing moved. The sound didn't repeat immediately, but my instincts flared to life.
Predators. Of course there would be predators.
I reached for the knife in my pocket, its small blade suddenly pathetic. What kind of creature could survive in this wasteland? Something adapted to the cold. Something hungry.
Another howl joined the first. Then a third. Different directions, forming a rough triangle around me.
Pack hunters. Coordinating.
I assessed my options. Run? No, that would trigger pursuit. Hide? Nowhere to conceal myself in this open plain. Climb? Nothing to climb.
Fight? Against multiple predators with just a knife?
The snow.
It was my only resource. I dropped to my knees and began to dig, scooping handfuls of powder aside. The cold burned my fingers through the gloves, but I kept going until I hit something solid beneath—ice or frozen ground.
I cleared a rough circle about two meters wide, piling the snow around the perimeter to form a low wall. Not much protection, but it eliminated the advantage of approach from any direction. I'd see them coming over the ridge.
Another howl, closer now. I pulled the dried meat from my pocket. The scent would attract them, but they'd smell it anyway. Might as well use it.
I cut a small piece and tucked the rest away. Taking the flint from my pocket, I struck it against my knife blade, hoping to create a spark. The metal was too cold at first, the sparks weak and dying before they could catch anything.
I cupped my hands around the flint and knife, breathing on them, trying to warm the metal enough to generate a proper spark. My fingers numbed. Time ticked away on the countdown in my vision.
29:22:15:43
The howls came again. Closer. I could distinguish individual voices now. At least five, maybe more.
Finally, a decent spark jumped from the blade to the scrap of dried meat I'd cut. It smoldered but didn't catch. I leaned down, blowing gently, coaxing the tiny ember.
A small flame appeared, no bigger than my fingernail. I fed it bits of the inner lining of my jacket, sacrificing warmth for fire. The flame grew, still pathetic, but alive.
Movement caught my eye. A flash of white against white, about fifty meters out. I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been looking for it.
They were here.
The first emerged from the swirling snow like a ghost. Pure white fur with hints of crystalline texture that caught the meager light. Massive—the size of a small pony—with intense blue eyes that seemed to glow from within.
An Ice Wolf. Not that I'd known such creatures existed until now, but the name seemed fitting.
It stood motionless, watching me across the snow. I stared back, keeping my body still while feeding my tiny fire with more scraps from my jacket.
A second wolf appeared to my right. Then a third to my left. They formed a loose semicircle, just outside the area I'd cleared. Patient. Calculating.
I'd seen enough hunts in the city to recognize an organized takedown.
The fire had grown to the size of my palm. Not much, but it cast flickering light across the snow. I pulled off my outer glove and held my hand near the flame, warming my fingers until I could feel them again.
Then I cut another small piece of meat and held it over the fire. The fat sizzled, releasing a rich aroma that would carry on the wind.
The wolves watched, unmoving. Their discipline was unnerving. These weren't mindless beasts—they were intelligent predators assessing a novel situation.
I needed to change the dynamic. Make myself more trouble than I was worth.
"I know you're hungry," I said aloud, my voice strange in the vast silence. "So am I. But I'm not your prey."
The lead wolf's ears twitched at my voice. Its head tilted slightly, studying me with eerie intelligence.
"We can negotiate," I continued, slowly standing. "Or we can fight. But I promise you, I'll take at least one of you with me."
Bullshit, of course. They could tear me apart in seconds. But confidence was part of any bluff, and I'd learned from the best card sharks in the Depths.
I pulled my knife, letting the firelight glint off the blade. With my other hand, I held the cooking meat. The message was clear: I had tools, I had food, I was dangerous.
The lead wolf took a step forward, testing. I stood my ground.
"That's close enough."
It stopped, nostrils flaring as it scented the air. The other wolves remained in position, waiting for a signal.
This was a standoff I couldn't win through strength. But maybe I could win it through understanding.
These creatures survived here. They knew this realm in ways I never could. If I killed one—assuming I even could—I'd gain a temporary reprieve and make lifelong enemies of the rest.
But if I could establish some kind of truce...
I took the cooked meat and tossed it halfway between us. A peace offering.
The lead wolf didn't move toward it. Instead, it made a soft sound—not quite a growl, more like a chuff—and one of the others broke formation to investigate the meat.
The smaller wolf sniffed the offering cautiously, then took it in one quick motion. It retreated several steps to eat, eyes never leaving me.
I prepared another piece, cooking it over my small fire. The lead wolf watched the process with evident interest.
"You understand value," I said quietly. "Good. We can work with that."
I tossed the second piece, this one landing closer to the lead wolf. It sniffed the meat but didn't eat it. Instead, it looked directly at me, then deliberately turned its head toward the distant darkness I'd been walking toward.
A coincidence? Or communication?
I pointed in that direction. "There? That's where I'm headed."
The wolf made that chuffing sound again. Two more pieces of meat. Two more wolves fed.
Only the leader and one other remained unfed. I cooked the last of my meat, larger pieces this time. My own stomach protested, but survival meant making sacrifices.
I tossed one to the final subordinate wolf, then held the last piece in my palm, extending my arm toward the leader.
A stupid risk. It could take my hand off. But instinct told me this was a moment of decision.
The lead wolf approached slowly, its movements liquid grace across the snow. It stopped just beyond arm's reach, those luminous blue eyes locked on mine.
Neither of us moved for several heartbeats. Then it closed the distance and delicately took the meat from my palm, its breath hot against my frozen skin.
It backed away to eat, but maintained eye contact.
When it finished eating, the wolf turned and trotted a few paces toward the distant darkness. It stopped and looked back at me.
I understood. "You want me to follow you?"
Another chuff. The other wolves were already moving, forming a loose escort rather than a hunting circle.
I hesitated. Following predators into unknown territory went against every survival instinct. But staying here meant certain death from exposure. And they'd had every opportunity to attack if that was their intention.
I gathered my meager belongings and kicked snow over my fire. The lead wolf waited patiently, its breath forming clouds in the frigid air.
"Alright," I said, stepping forward. "Lead on."