Everything was dark — not the kind of darkness that simply lacked light, but the kind that devoured it. It was thick, oppressive, like a suffocating mist that coiled around the bones and whispered forgotten things. There was no sense of time here. No gravity. No warmth. Just endless cold that seeped into the soul.
The silence was absolute, a silence so complete it roared inside the mind.
Shattered fragments of what once might have been memories floated like debris in the vast emptiness — flickers of snow-covered mountains, soft laughter, a woman's voice calling his name — all swallowed by the void before they could form. The space felt ancient, like it had existed before creation itself.
And in the center of it all, untouched by ground or sky, he remained.
Frost.
