Parzivals head spun as he fell through the void, his body weightless, every sense overwhelmed by an all-encompassing darkness. It felt like eternity, yet also just a fleeting moment, before he was unceremoniously deposited onto a cold, hard surface.

He gasped, his breath forming plumes of white mist in the frigid air. The ground beneath him was covered in a thick layer of snow, and a bone-chilling wind cut through his thin clothes, biting into his skin. Parzival scrambled to his feet, his mind racing with questions. Where was he? How had he gotten here?

A glowing message appeared in front of him, hovering in the air with an otherworldly luminescence:

"Welcome to the First Circle, Quadrant 108347850."

The message vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving Parzival even more bewildered. He glanced around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The landscape around him was both breathtaking and terrifying. Towering peaks, blanketed in pristine snow, rose to touch the sky. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a pale, golden glow that did little to warm the frigid air. As he took a cautious step forward, the snow crunched beneath his feet, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he was utterly alone.

Panic set in as Parzival scanned the horizon, desperately searching for any sign of life. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to piece together his fragmented memories. He remembered being on his way to his friend Jacob and then, without warning, he had been pulled into this icy wilderness.

The wind howled, driving snowflakes into his eyes and adding to his disorientation. He needed to find shelter, and fast. Without proper gear, hypothermia would set in within hours, if not minutes. He glanced around, searching for anything that might offer some protection from the relentless cold.

In the distance, Parzival spotted a cluster of jagged rocks jutting out of the snow. With no better options, he stumbled towards them, his legs numb and unsteady. As he drew closer, he noticed a shallow depression at the base of the rocks, partially shielded from the wind. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Parzival dropped to his knees and began to dig frantically at the snow, using his hands to carve out a makeshift shelter. The cold stung his fingers, but he pushed through the pain, driven by sheer survival instinct. After what felt like hours, he had hollowed out a small cavity, just big enough to curl up inside.

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He crawled into the cramped space, huddling against the rocks for warmth. It was far from comfortable, but at least it offered some respite from the biting wind. His mind raced, trying to make sense of his predicament.

As he lay there, shivering and exhausted, he became acutely aware of the silence. The only sounds were the howling wind and his own labored breathing. Then, in the distance, he heard it: a low, ominous rumble. Parzival strained his ears, trying to pinpoint the source. The sound grew louder, more insistent, and he realized with horror what it was.

Glacier crevasses.

He had read about them in books and seen them in documentaries. Deep, treacherous fissures that could swallow a person whole, never to be seen again. The thought sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Parzival peeked out from his shelter, his eyes scanning the landscape. Sure enough, just beyond the rocks, he could see the dark, yawning mouths of several crevasses, their depths hidden in shadow. The realization that he was so close to such a perilous danger made his situation all the more dire.

He retreated back into his shelter, his mind racing. He needed a plan, a way to survive until he could figure out what had happened and how to get back home. But for now, all he could do was huddle in the meager protection of his makeshift cave, praying that the weather would not worsen and that he could find a way out of this frozen nightmare.

He realized that he could not stay. The plain Jeans and Shirt he had been wearing while being transported would not allow him to dally much longer, but even the thought of moving out of his little shelter left him shivering. In the back of his mind, he realized that he should have long passed out from hypothermia but in this strange new world he seemed to be at least a little resistant to the adverse weather.

Just as he was about to succumb to the exhaustion, a strange sound reached his ears. It was faint, almost imperceptible over the howling wind, but it was there. A distant, rhythmic thumping, like the beating of a giant heart.

Parzival's eyes snapped open, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He strained to listen, his mind racing with possibilities. Was it a rescue party? Some kind of creature? Or something else entirely?

The sound grew louder, more distinct, and Parzival realized with a mix of hope and fear that it was coming closer. He inched towards the entrance of his shelter, his heart pounding in his chest. Whatever it was, he would soon find out.

And then, just as the sound seemed to be right on top of him, everything went silent.

Parzival held his breath, every muscle tensed. The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive.

His heart raced as he strained to see through the frigid air, his eyes wide with fear. Something was out there, something massive and powerful. Parzival's mind raced, but there was no time to think, no time to plan.

The ground trembled once more, and he knew, with a sinking feeling, that whatever was coming, it was closer than ever.