Nico didn't know how long he was unconscious, but he had woken up miserable. Treading through the clearing towards the trees he did not know where he was going. The cold and snow was once a soothing cream for his burning agony. Now, it was a harsh and unrelenting force seeking his demise. The powerful winds made his already unstable footing worse and had sent him tumbling more times than he cared to count. The cold nipped at the tip of his nose and left his extremities cold and his bones aching. He could hardly see a couple feet ahead of him, especially with his glasses buried or crushed by his earlier encounter.

Just thinking of the memories of his encounter sent a shiver down his spine that was entirely unrelated to the weather.

He didn't even have rags left to cover himself, he was butt ass naked in the middle of a snowstorm.

Yet, he could only continue forward blindly in hopes of finding shelter. He had discovered that he had the power to regenerate in a supernatural manner. Besides, when he had been mauled to death by the wolves, he had cut himself earlier on a rock when he fell. His wound on the palm of his hand had sealed shut and left unblemished skin right before his eyes. Something that would've previously taken weeks and left a small scar. It had left a slight burn and tingle, but nothing as hellish as his first time.

He guessed it was based on the severity of the wound and how hard it was to fix him. He didn't want to test out what a fatal one would feel like.

Another thing he learned was his body no longer followed the fundamental rules of physics.

'Energy can not be created nor destroyed'

Yet, he had regrown entire limbs from nothing.

Was he even human anymore? And did it even matter at this point? He could faintly recall that he had been tossed into a different world, but the details and how escaped him.

He needed to find a safe place and figure things out quickly. One traumatic death experience was enough for this lifetime. He never wanted to be that utterly helpless again. To experience that type of pain and fear. And to do that and ensure his future he had to get stronger.

He grabbed a dead branch of a suitable length as a walking stick, using it to make sure he didn't trip on anything hidden beneath the blanket of white.

His fingers and toes were turning blackish purple. He had lost a few a while back that broken off, but they eventually grew back. He freaked out for a while at first, having not felt it happen and only noticed when he had tripped, but eventually he had gotten used to it, as it was so numb he could barely feel it anyways. People really could get used to anything he supposed.

His breath came out in a constant thick fog in front of his face. The only good thing about his trip so far was that his powers somehow healed his eyes from years of abuse from constant exposure to electronic lights such as phones and computers.

His vision had never been so clear, ironic since that only meant he could see the snow battering his face in high definition.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He lost his phones and he couldn't see the sky properly as it has been constantly overcast, but he thought he had been walking for at least a few hours now.

His head was starting to pound and his limbs got shaky. Hunger had set in long ago and he had been ignoring it, but it seemed he was reaching his limits. He sure hoped his regeneration powers could bring him back from starvation. I mean, it could grow back almost his entire body so it should be able to, right? Yet he wasn't sure what principles it worked upon, maybe it only applied to battle wounds or there was a limit to how many times he could heal, there were so many things that could go wrong that he didn't want to tempt fate.

He continued you for another half hour when he saw something that almost brought him to his knees in despair. A very familiar phone and a ring of keys. He crouched down and grabbed them both and traced the steps back to where his...remains were located. Another few minutes and he found the spot of the battle. He had spent hours walking in a circle.

Getting out while this storm was raging was an effort in futility. Even if he made it out, where would he go? For all, he knew this forest could extend for miles up miles, what if it was like the Amazon Forest? That thing spanned over 2 million square miles!

He decided to grab everything he could and settled deeper within the woods. He didn't want any wild beasts to come attracted to the scent of blood.

He carried one wolf at a time to his new spot a short jog away and the remains of his jack. The most of the back was torn to shreds, and it was coated in blood, but the sleeves and upper back was surprisingly intact.

He swiftly struggled to put it on and then got to work on trying to make an igloo. He had watched plenty of survival videos and arts and crafts online for fun. It was a pity that almost all of those were set in warm forests or jungles.

He remembered seeing a group of guys make a large igloo before, but they used sharp knives to cut bricks out of ice or dense snow. Something he had neither of as the snow around him was powdery and he couldn't dig without breaking all of his fingers off. He could barely force them to twitch as is, the blood had almost frozen within his veins.

He released a frustrated sigh as he got to work. he kneeled on the ground and slammed his forearms down and patted the area tight as he gathered them. He slowly collected piles of snow around his spot before repeating the process. It was a long and grueling work.

It was like trying to build a sandcastle next to the coast right before high tide. He had to work fast because if he took too long then the wind would blow away his pile before he could pack it down, as if taunting him for his efforts and weakness, and if he packed it as soon as he got some then the layer would be insignificant and he would have to repeat the effort countless more times.

Hours had gone by and he felt the exhaust seep deeply into his bones. What if he just went to sleep? No, just a quick nap? The allure of the mere thought was so tempting and his eyelids felt so heavy that he almost did just that. Yet he jerked himself awake. He wasn't sure if he'd ever wake up if he did. Even if the cold didn't kill him, what if some kind of animal was nearby and found him an easy snack?

The hatred of the beasts, the fear of a worthless and lonely death, and self-loathing at his weakness became a heady cocktail that warmed him up and overcame his need for rest. With a second wind, he worked on his igloo with twice his previous speeds, forcing his hands into motion even when his body screamed at him for a break.

Time flew by in a blur as he was surrounded by constant white. Gather up, place down, pack together. He chanted it like a mantra as he did his work with single minded determination, blocking out the world. It took an incredible amount of time and effort, but eventually, he had made a serviceable igloo. It looked like the work of a child, and part of him feared it would collapse on him during his sleep, yet he was well and truly spent at this point and beyond caring. He crawled inside the narrow space and promptly collapsed.

His sleep was thankfully uninterrupted and so he ended his first day in the new world.