Consciousness slowly returned, the cold piercing like needles, penetrating the skin and drilling deep into the bones.

Gabriel opened his eyes. The world before him was a cold, piercing blue. The ice beneath his feet was thin and transparent, reflecting his blurry form. The sky hung low, heavy clouds blocking the sunlight, leaving only faint auroras in the distance, silently drifting through the air. The wind howled across the vast icy expanse, tearing through the atmosphere, bringing with it a stinging cold.

Consciousness gradually emerged from the depths of silence, the cold slicing through every inch of skin, spreading like ice through the marrow, quickly filling every nerve. He opened his eyes, and the world was shrouded in a deep blue chill. The sky hung low, heavy and oppressive, like a sleeping beast, silent and endless. There was no light at the horizon, only a gray mist and thick clouds, like a dark veil covering all life, blocking any hope of warmth. The distant auroras floated faintly in the frigid air, their pale greenish-blue glow moving like ancient spirits, spectral and distant, drifting across the indifferent sky.

Beneath his feet stretched an endless ice plain, transparent and crystalline, the surface reflecting his indistinct form. The air was thin, and each breath was filled with the cold, almost suffocating him. Each inhalation struck his chest like a hammer, and each exhalation felt as though it carried a weight so heavy he could barely catch his breath. Beneath him, the ice made low, rumbling cracks, and occasionally, small shards would break away from below, producing a chilling, distant echo. The wind swept in from afar, sharp as a blade, sweeping across the land, stirring up snow and dust as though leaving silent marks at every corner.

He lifted his head. Before him lay a scene of profound loneliness. The snow covered everything, stretching to the farthest edge of his vision, as if the entire world had been frozen into an unmoving image. The earth was silent, the sky mute, as though pressed down by an invisible force. The air was thick with an eternal stillness. Around him, there was no life, only the wind wandering aimlessly, like a lost spirit, carrying with it an oppressive cold. The auroras flickered faintly, like a lighthouse from a distant age, but no matter how much he walked, that light remained unreachable.

Gabriel lowered his head to look at his pale hands, the fingertips now devoid of color, as cold as death itself. His joints were stiff, the skin cracked from the freezing temperature, like some inanimate object that no longer belonged to the living. His body seemed to be struggling against this silent world, every muscle heavy and slow, each step like moving into a deep chasm. His cheeks had turned purple from the cold, his lips were nearly devoid of warmth, his brow furrowed, and the hair on his forehead was coated with frost, like dead moss abandoned on the ice.

The air grew thinner still, and the lack of oxygen made his head swim, his consciousness growing unclear, his vision slowly blurring. Each breath became more difficult, as if he were swallowing a dense, icy fog. The pain in his chest was impossible to ignore. He knew he had to find hope, had to escape this cold, dead place. But this ice field stretched out endlessly, empty, save for the snow and the biting wind. The sea was frozen, the sky was frozen, and the entire world felt like an unyielding prison, swallowing any hope.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

With each step, Gabriel felt as though he were sinking into mud, the cold creeping deeper into his bones, his muscles stiffening, his breath quickening. Every movement felt as though it were bound by a heavy chain. His steps faltered, each leg lifted with great effort, like waging a battle against this unfeeling ice world. The edge of his consciousness blurred, the pain of breathing threatened to break him, and he seemed to slide deeper into the abyss of death.

Yet, just then, a strange voice broke through the endless cold and silence, carrying an irresistible force.

— “Go seek the fire of the deep sea.”

The voice was deep and distant, as though it had pierced through the cracks of time, slipping through the cold air, carrying with it a strange summons. It seemed to come from another world, a language he had never heard, seeping into his senses, striking straight into his heart. He stopped abruptly, his gaze sweeping around him. The world remained unchanged—ice and snow, the faint glow of the aurora, the cold wind still howling—everything silent and still, as though all things were watching him in mute judgment.

— “Go seek the fire of the deep sea.”

The voice repeated, low and commanding, carrying a pressure that he had never felt before. It was not the howl of the wind, nor the sound of the ice, but something older, something primal, whispering in a language from beyond. There was a depth to it, a sense of immense power, as though it was telling him that if he did not search, he would be forever trapped on this frozen plain, entombed in ice.

He clenched his teeth, a flicker of unease passing through his chest. A hallucination? Or some guidance from the deep sea? He couldn’t be sure, but his instincts told him that if he stopped now, if he did not go on, this would all end here, alone on this frozen plain, with no burial, no rest.

Without hesitation, he moved forward. Each step became more laborious, the cold, the lack of oxygen, and the sheer exhaustion slowing his movements. His body grew more sluggish with each passing moment. The ice beneath his feet cracked open with a low sound, as though warning him that the world would no longer allow him to linger much longer.

The cold wind screamed in his ears, his vision blurred, and he could scarcely discern the direction. Everything around him seemed unreachable, every step pulling him deeper into the abyss of death. No matter how hard he tried, the light of the aurora remained distant, just out of reach.

Suddenly, ahead of him, the ice cracked open, revealing a deep chasm, black water slowly churning beneath the surface, unfathomable and dark, like a whirlpool ready to consume everything. The cold seeped out from the crack, cutting through his skin like an icy blade. He felt a sharp pain as the freezing abyss opened before him, the sea below moving as if waiting for him.

He knew that he must descend.

But he had not evolved to adapt to the deep sea. Oxygen, cold, and darkness were closing in, and his time was running out. He felt a wave of dizziness, his steps faltering, his consciousness slipping away. His body seemed to surrender in that instant, but still, he continued walking, toward the crack in the ice, toward the unknown fire.

His time, he knew, was nearly up.