When the light finally settled, Snow slowly opened her eyes.
A faint frown formed on her face.
Snow and frigid winds assaulted her from every direction, so thick and violent that visibility was reduced to almost nothing.
The world around her was swallowed by white—an endless expanse of swirling frost.
Beneath her boots, the snowy ground rose in uneven drifts, piling higher and higher as if the land itself were being buried in real time.
"Where… am I?"
Her voice was immediately stolen by the wind.
And more troubling—
Why is it so cold?
For the first time in her life, the chill bit into her skin.
Snow had always possessed a natural affinity with cold. Ice, frost, winter—these had never been her enemies.
She had stood in blizzards without flinching, summoned glaciers from nothing, and walked through frozen wastelands as though they were temperate fields.
She had never once felt cold.
