Amina's breaths came in ragged bursts, each inhale scraping against her lungs like broken glass.
The cold here was different from the regulated temperatures of the underground cities. This wasn't artificial chill controlled by vents and machinery. This was alive. Cruel. It clawed beneath clothing, dug into flesh, and settled inside bone.
The wind howled endlessly across the wasteland, swallowing every other sound except the crunch of her boots through frozen powder and the frantic pounding of her heartbeat.
White.
Grey.
Black.
That was all the surface world seemed to be.
Ancient office buildings rose from the snow like the skeletons of dead giants. Rusted vehicles sat half-buried in ice drifts older than she was. Somewhere beneath all this frost had once been roads, homes, entire civilizations.
Now the world looked frozen in the middle of dying.
Amina forced herself forward another step.
Then another.
Pain exploded through her side immediately.
Her hand clamped tighter over the wound beneath her jacket. Warm blood seeped between her fingers before instantly cooling against the air. The Psychic-Implant embedded at the base of her spine pulsed faintly beneath her skin as she concentrated.
Hold it together.
Literally.
Thin strands of psychic force stitched the torn tissue internally, keeping the wound from opening further. It was crude emergency stabilization, not healing, and maintaining it for this long was beginning to fry her nervous system.
A splitting headache throbbed behind her eyes.
Warning symbols blinked faintly across the lens of her right eye.
CORE TEMP FALLING
SUIT POWER: 9%
"Fantastic," she muttered weakly through chattering teeth. "Absolutely fantastic."
The wind answered by hurling sleet into her face hard enough to sting.
Amina immediately regretted speaking.
Don't jinx yourself, idiot.
She adjusted the hood of her stealth suit and kept climbing over a ridge of broken concrete buried beneath snow. Her legs trembled from exhaustion. Four straight hours of running, climbing, and bleeding had pushed her far past her limits.
And the Brawnlers were probably still hunting her.
The thought made her stomach tighten.
She glanced behind her instinctively.
Nothing.
Just endless white ruin.
Still, paranoia crawled beneath her skin.
The surface felt wrong. Empty in a way that suffocated her. No humming generators. No distant voices. No crowded tunnels or glowing neon advertisements carved into underground steel walls.
Only wind.
Only death.
Then her Passive Feel activated.
The sensation slammed into the base of her skull like static electricity.
Life nearby.
Amina froze instantly.
Her pulse spiked.
No.
No no no.
Had the Brawnlers followed her all the way up here?
She crouched low behind the frozen shell of an overturned vehicle and shut her eyes tightly.
The Passive Feel was useful for broad detection, but imprecise. Like hearing movement through walls. If she wanted specifics, she needed more power.
Which she barely had left.
Amina swallowed hard.
Then activated Active Feel.
Pain flared through her temples instantly as psychic energy surged through her nervous system. The world around her expanded outward in invisible waves.
Snow.
Ruins.
Metal.
Wind currents.
Then—
Something enormous.
Right behind her.
Amina's eyes snapped open.
A towering figure stood only a few meters away.
Her breath caught in her throat so violently it hurt.
How?
How had something that massive gotten close without her hearing it?
The man stood motionless within the storm, almost blending into it. Thick white furs and stitched hide broke apart his silhouette against the snow until he looked less like a person and more like some ancient predator emerging from the blizzard itself.
He was huge.
Well over six feet tall and built like a wall of carved stone beneath layers of fur and muscle. Black dreadlocks framed a scarred face marked with faded Fulani patterns. One crimson eye stared at her calmly while the other was cut by a jagged scar.
The sight of those red eyes sent ice through her veins worse than the weather ever could.
Her switchblades snapped free from their magnetic holsters instantly.
With a sharp hum, the blades hovered protectively around her.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded.
Her voice came out stronger than she felt.
The stranger didn't answer.
He simply stared.
Not aggressive.
Not fearful.
Curious.
His remaining eye widened slightly as he watched the floating blades orbit around her. Amina realized almost immediately what he was thinking.
He had never seen a Psychic-Implant before.
The realization hit her all at once.
Primitive fur armor.
Bone weapon.
Animal-hide pouches.
This wasn't some scavenger pretending to be tribal.
This was an actual Surface Dweller.
An Ice Nomad.
A living myth.
People underground talked about them the same way ancient humans talked about ghosts or demons wandering forests.
But he was real.
And standing directly in front of her.
Movement exploded beside her.
A massive shape launched from the storm.
Amina barely reacted in time.
Her instincts hurled her sideways just as gigantic jaws snapped shut inches from her throat.
She hit the snow hard and rolled.
A mutant wolf landed where she had stood moments earlier.
No—
Not a wolf.
Something worse.
The beast was enormous, nearly the size of a small bear, with oversized teeth protruding from its mouth even while closed. Thick white fur rippled over powerful limbs corded with muscle.
Its growl vibrated through the ground.
Amina's Passive Feel flickered weakly.
Too slow.
I'm running out of power.
The creature lowered itself to pounce again—
—but the man suddenly raised one scarred arm.
Instantly, the wolf stopped.
Not fully relaxed.
Still glaring.
Still ready to tear her apart.
But obedient.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Amina snapped, scrambling backward through the snow. "Put your demon dog on a leash!"
The giant tilted his head slightly.
That somehow unsettled her more than aggression would have.
He still hadn't spoken once.
Wind whipped violently between them.
Amina's thoughts raced.
He could have attacked already if he wanted.
Instead he was… studying her.
Like she was the strange one here.
She slowly took another step backward.
Then another.
The wolf lunged.
Amina reacted instantly.
One switchblade shot forward with a violent metallic whistle and buried itself through the beast's forearm into the ice beneath.
The creature yelped sharply in pain.
Amina's chest tightened immediately with regret—
—but survival came first.
The giant made a strange sound.
A sharp, furious yeep that sounded bizarrely high-pitched for someone his size.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Far faster than something that huge should move.
The massive bone axe swung toward her head in a brutal horizontal arc. Amina ducked instinctively, feeling the wind of the strike pass over her hood.
Holy hell.
She twisted sideways and slammed the handle of another switchblade against his wrist using psychic force.
CRACK.
The axe flew from his hand and buried itself into the snow nearby.
His wrist bent unnaturally.
A sprain.
Maybe worse.
But the giant barely reacted.
He just stared at her.
Calm.
Unmoving.
Even as her remaining blades surrounded him threateningly.
That unnerved her more than rage ever could.
"You sneak up on me, your monster tries to kill me, and then you try to split my skull open!" she shouted. "What do you even want?!"
No answer.
The man's gaze slowly lowered toward her legs.
Confused, Amina followed his stare.
Red.
The snow beneath her boots was stained crimson.
Her stomach dropped.
No.
The wound.
The moment she focused fully on combat, she had stopped maintaining the psychic seal on her injury.
Warm blood poured down her side rapidly now.
Too much.
Way too much.
Her vision blurred instantly.
The floating blades wobbled in the air.
The cold suddenly felt distant.
Muted.
"Oh…"
The world tilted sideways violently.
Her knees gave out.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
---
Sullei caught her before her face struck the ice.
For several seconds he simply stared down at the unconscious stranger in disbelief while snow collected across both of them.
A human.
A real human.
Not a raider.
Not a mutant.
Not some nightmare crawling from the Potholes.
Human.
After fifteen years of silence, the realization felt almost unreal.
Doomsday limped over, whining softly around the blade pinning her foreleg. Sullei quickly pulled the weapon free and checked her injury first, rubbing behind her ears until the wolf calmed.
Then he turned back to the girl.
Blood soaked through the strange black fabric covering her body. The material looked impossibly thin for surface survival.
How had she lived out here wearing this?
Sullei carefully examined the wound. Deep. Badly torn. Probably infected soon if untreated.
He moved quickly.
From his belt pouches he removed dried medicinal moss, powdered frostroot, and thick strips of hide. His massive hands worked with surprising gentleness as he packed and wrapped the wound tightly.
The girl stirred weakly but didn't wake.
Up close, she looked even stranger.
Soft spring-like curls framed her face. Her skin was warm caramel beneath the frost collecting on her cheeks. Sullei had heard stories about the underground people before the world froze.
He never thought he would actually meet one.
Doomsday nudged the unconscious girl carefully with her snout, whining again.
'I know,' Sullei thought bitterly.
Even now, his ruined throat ached instinctively with words he could never say aloud.
He removed his thickest fur cloak and wrapped it securely around her trembling body.
The difference in size startled him when he lifted her.
She weighed almost nothing.
Fragile.
Like carrying memory itself.
For a moment, Sullei simply stood there in the middle of the storm with the unconscious stranger in his arms.
Snow swirled around them endlessly.
Then he clicked his teeth softly toward Doomsday.
The wolf fell into step beside him.
Together, they disappeared back into the white wasteland.