COLD

Chapter 7

09:34 AM.

They stood together in the crisp morning air, charting the unknown territory of the open world. For the first time in her memory, Hildegard witnessed the dawn truly break. The violent winter storm had finally ceased. High above, static white flakes hung suspended in the atmosphere like frozen dust, clearing a path for the golden sunlight to shatter the darkness. It was the first time she had felt its warmth since her protective imprisonment began. Stripped of her cage, she felt like a wild, free bird taking flight. She bathed in the glorious, unobstructed glow, letting the light breathe vibrant life back into her pale, neglected skin.

Stephan stood a few paces behind her. He remained hyper-vigilant, scanning the bleak perimeter for any suspicious movement. To the world, he was a ruthless, unyielding bodyguard keeping watch over a high-stakes prisoner. But as he looked at her, his professional detachment faltered. He watched her bask under those golden rays, absorbing an endless warmth that actively claimed her soul from the frigid, suffocating hands of her father.

He raised his wrist to check the time.

Thirty minutes had already slipped away.

Stephan exhaled a heavy sigh, his breath condensing into a thick mist in the freezing air. Reason told him they had to head back inside immediately. The protocol was strict, the dangers were real, and his reputation was on the line. Yet, seeing her anchor herself to that fleeting, delightful glow made him hesitate. A strange weakness washed over him, leaving him profoundly uneasy. Interrupting this rare moment of peace felt like a sin, but a contract was a contract.

Right on cue, the fragile sunlight fractured. It disappeared behind a sudden, sweeping wall of heavy grey clouds. Fresh, crystal-white snow petals began their slow, silent descent from the sky, reclaiming the landscape. Hildegard opened her light blue eyes, tracking the final, fading embers of the sun as they vanished behind the winter gloom. She took a deep, controlled breath. Her lips curved into a genuine smile of quiet, profound understanding.

“The skies were blue, the clouds grey,” she murmured softly, acknowledging without bitterness that her borrowed time was up.

She turned on her heel to face Stephan. He was still staring at his watch, visibly warring with the grim reality of his duty. The thought of forcing her back into isolation weighed heavily on his conscience. Letting out a sharp, contemplative breath, he finally looked up, his fierce gaze boring directly into her eyes.

“Staying inside, isolated from the world, is a gift no one deserves,” he said, his voice rough but deliberate. “I will give you two hours max.”

Instantly, Hildegard’s heart blossomed with overwhelming joy. Two hours was a lifetime—ample time to truly explore and feel alive.

“But, you are not to leave my sight for a single second,” Stephan warned sharply. A fresh cloud of mist escaped his lips as he clenched his jaw, trying desperately to reassemble his crumbling emotional defenses. “Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Hildegard answered, her voice a warm vibrato of pure gratitude.

Before he could react, she threw her arms around him in a burst of unadulterated ecstasy. The suffocating weight of her lifelong cage had just been softened by a man hidden behind a cold, terrifying mask—a man who possessed a hidden heart of gold.

Stephan froze. A sudden, jarring sensation shot through his entire body.

She was hugging him.

It was a gentle, friendly embrace, entirely genuine and devastatingly beautiful. His heart hammered violently against his ribs like a trapped animal. For the first time in years, the thick glacial wall shielding his emotions fractured and cracked. It was completely unexpected, breaking through a lifetime of conditioning.

When she slowly drew away, the freezing air rushed between them once more. But as she looked up, her eyes remained bright, hopeful, and shimmering, burning a permanent, inescapable mark into his soul.

For a single, breathless moment, the world ceased its rotation.

Stephan’s breathing slowed to a heavy drag, the mist of his exhale hanging suspended in the freezing air like a ghost before it could dissipate. He remained rooted to the spot, staring deep into her eyes. There, wrapped in the pale blue of her irises, lay a raw, untouched innocence—a softness that fundamentally did not belong in this brutal, cold world. For a fraction of a second, the iron-clad discipline governing his face faltered. His lips twitched, on the absolute precipice of mirroring her smile.

No. What the hell was he doing?

The realization hit him like a physical blow. He snapped back to reality, a violent flash of memory violently tearing through his composure. Shouts of terror, the echoing ring of gunfire, and the desperate screams from the subterranean depths of his past flooded his mind. Instantly, the ghost of his smile vanished before it could ever truly form. He wrenched his gaze away, staring down at his watch to re-anchor his drifting mind. They had two hours. Two hours to explore.

He forced himself to scan the landscape stretching out ahead. The immediate vicinity was nothing but a desolate ghost town—an empty, broken world of rotting timber and shattered glass sitting in the dead center of absolute nothingness. There was no life here. He didn’t even know where he could possibly take her, or where she could go to actually witness real, breathing people.

Her father, Rheinhard, should have considered these human factors before sentencing his own blood to this high-security tomb. Anger flared in Stephan's chest as he contemplated the cruelty of it all.

Before the silence could swallow them entirely, Hildegard broke it.

“There is a active town, about fifteen minutes to the east of the facility,” she said, her voice laced with an unexpected, quiet confidence.

Stephan’s brow furrowed into a cold, skeptical frown. He looked past her, casting his sharp gaze toward the eastern horizon.

She was right.

Nesting against the distant ridge line, just beyond the perimeter of the facility’s valley, lay the faint outlines of a settlement. Unlike the dead, hollow ghost town crumbling right in front of them, this eastern enclave hummed with visible energy. Even from this distance, thin trails of chimney smoke snaked into the grey sky, and the distant, chaotic murmur of an active populace drifted through the cold air—a stark, living contrast to her silent prison.

Stephan took a deep, stabilizing breath, the cold burning his lungs as he made his choice. Protocol demanded safety, but looking at her hopeful eyes, he knew he was going to take the risk. For her sake, they were going to the town.

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Elskandrovsk.

09:57 AM.

Heavy grey clouds hung low over the morning skies, aggressively choking out the last remnants of the golden glow they had witnessed earlier. Despite the gloomy ceiling, the atmosphere below felt almost magical. Fresh, delicate flakes of snow—like falling white petals—drifted lazily through the air, coming to rest upon the dark woolen coats, the hair, and the shoulders of every man, woman, and child who walked the streets.

Hildegard walked with slow, deliberate steps through the heart of Elskandrovsk, her eyes wide as she drank in the sights. The town felt vibrantly, unapologetically alive. The air itself seemed to buzz with a rich, chaotic radiance—a stark energy that Stephan had encountered back in Whalsburger, the uniform grey city with towering architectures and warm, radiant white streetlights.

Here, it was much different, much homely. The buildings were shorter, the air was filled with hot pastries. The people worn different shades of dark winter clothing, their eyes were delightful and joyous, a stark contrast to the faces Stephan had seen on his first experience with Xander.

Children laughed, chasing each other through the frozen earth, their breath blooming into small clouds of shared joy. To Hildegard, even the simple sound of boots crunching on fresh snow felt like a symphony. She was no longer just observing life from a reinforced window; she was standing directly in the middle of its current.

Walking half a step behind her, Stephan kept his hand resting casually but deliberately near the concealed holster beneath his coat. His eyes darted relentlessly across the crowd, scanning the faces of shopkeepers, passing laborers, and stray horses. Whalsburger had been predictable, a place governed strictly by military routine and dead silence. Elskandrovsk, with its narrow alleys and dense crowds, was a security nightmare.

Yet, every time he looked down at Hildegard, his irritation softened. She was staring at a simple bakery window, watching a baker dust flour onto fresh loaves of bread as if she were witnessing an ancient, sacred ritual. For a girl who had known only cold iron and stone walls, this ordinary town was a paradise.

Stephan tightened his jaw, suppressing a sudden surge of protective instinct. He had given her two hours, and looking at the pure wonder reflecting in her light blue eyes, he knew he would fight the entire world to make sure she got every single second of it.

As they walked through the frigid pathways, Hildegard watched a group of children playing with each other, a blossoming sense of innocence that filled the cold, frigid winds, their faces glistening with warm, radiant smile. “Beautiful, aren't they?” She breathed, her hands sunk into her pockets as she watched.

Stephan watched them, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, they are.” He breathed in response, watching them.

As he watched, a sudden flash of memory, a voice screaming at him to run, before being swallowed by the heavy rains of bullets.

He shook his head sharply, wavering the memory off.

He looks into his wrist watch, watching the time. “Two hours are up,” He muttered coldly, walking away from the frozen park.

Hildegard heard, her heart broken. But, that was the agreed time.

In a memory, she explored the world beyond the sterile walls of steel and concrete. For the first time, she felt like every normal people.

She felt human.