Solstace and Crimson stood in the middle of the Siberian wilderness, its vastness stretching under a cold, gray sky. The chill bit through their clothes, making the silence around them feel even more unforgiving. The usually peaceful landscape now felt like it was hiding dangers in its silence. The sight of their jeep, its tires viciously slashed, was a clear message—they were not alone, they were not safe.
Solstace’s eyes flickered from the jagged outline of distant trees to the unsettling stillness of the frozen ground, every rustle of the wind sharpening his focus. The relentless wind whipped at his hair, carrying a scent he couldn’t quite place. Beside him, Crimson shifted uneasily, her eyes darting to the mangled tires of their vehicle.
“Great, just great,” she muttered, a tinge of
