The moment her consciousness slipped inward, she found herself standing alone.
A frozen wasteland stretched endlessly in every direction, barren and lifeless beneath a pale, colorless sky. The ground beneath her feet was a solid sheet of ice, cracked and uneven, but not completely unstable.
There wasn't any wind and the light was barely dim enough to make out the surroundings. Everything was just…still.
Luna shivered, arms wrapping instinctively around herself as her breath came out in faint white mist—even within her Canvas.
Still…so…cold…
Her father's words echoed faintly in her mind.
"Your Bloodline will manifest itself in your Canvas as a blistering blizzard. Survive it and prove to the family…that you are of the Northern lineage."
But…
Why does it feel like I'm dying in it?
Her fingers trembled as she looked down at them. Even here, inside her own world, her skin had turned a faint blueish color, the telltale sign of hypothermia seeping in.
