The wind howled like a starving wolf. Snowflakes cut through the air, sharp as daggers, swirling against a sky the color of bruised steel. Footsteps crunched in the frozen crust — steady, dragging, reluctant. A figure moved through the snow, barely upright, knees threatening to buckle. Blood — old and frozen — clung to his lips. Every breath felt like swallowing ice. Then came the voice. Cold. Ruthless. “Get up.” A shadow stepped forward. Cloaked in black, faceless in the storm.