The air was thick with tension as Cassian stood there, staring at the empty space where Tovin had been. The wind seemed louder now, almost mocking, swirling around them in an endless howl. No one spoke for a long moment.

  “Where the hell did he go?” Dorn grunted again, his voice sharp with a hint of panic.

  Cassian scanned the snow-covered landscape again, but it remained untouched, unbroken. No trace of Tovin. It didn’t make sense. He hadn't seen anyone move, no sounds had followed him, and yet… Tovin had vanished into thin air.

  “We need to keep moving,” Leira said, her voice as cold as the mountain itself. She didn’t seem as shaken as the others, but even she was looking around with narrowed eyes.

  But Cassian was already shaking his head. “No. Something’s wrong.”

  Garel shifted uneasily, his eyes wide with fear. “It’s not possible, right? People don’t just disappear.”

  Cassian didn't know how to answer that. He had no explanation.

  It was the silence, the emptiness of the mountain, that gnawed at him. Everything felt wrong now. Even the wind had shifted—it no longer felt like an ally, but an unfeeling presence, watching them.

  Dorn shifted his weight uneasily, his deep voice low. “We’ll freeze our asses off out here if we don’t move soon. We can figure this out back at the camp.”

  But Cassian’s gaze didn’t leave the spot where Tovin had been. It was like the mountain itself had swallowed him up. Not even a single footprint remained. Just... nothing.

  Leira stepped closer to him, her face tense. “Cassian, we can’t just stand here.”

  “I know,” he muttered. But his mind was racing. Where had Tovin gone? And why did it feel like something was waiting?

  The wind howled again, the snow swirling in a frenzy. Cassian’s instincts told him to move, to push forward, but something deeper inside him told him to stay. Something was wrong.

  Crack!

  He heard the sound of a stick snapping, as if someone, or something had trodden on it.

  Cassian whipped around, looking for the source of the noise.

  His breath caught in his throat. The snow around them was still, but the sound had been clear—too clear, too close.

  He scanned the dimly lit landscape, eyes darting from one patch of white to the next, searching for movement, for any sign of life. But the mountains held only the wind, the snow, and the oppressive silence. Nothing.

  "Did you hear that?" Garel asked, his voice trembling, eyes wide and shifting nervously.

  Cassian nodded, but his mouth was dry. He hadn’t imagined it. That wasn’t the wind. Someone—or something—was out there.

  “I don’t like this,” Dorn muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the empty expanse behind them.

  Leira stepped closer, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the landscape. "It was nothing," she said, though her tone lacked the usual confidence. "Just the wind. Let’s keep moving."

  Cassian didn’t answer. His eyes were still searching the snow, his senses straining. There was something else in the air now. A feeling. A presence.

  Then, another noise—faint at first, like a soft scraping against the snow, coming from behind them. Cassian’s heart hammered in his chest. He didn’t dare turn his back on it.

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  “Leira, do you—” He started to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.

  Leira was gone as well.

  One moment she had been standing beside him, the next, the space where she’d been was empty, swallowed by the thick, swirling snow. Cassian’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted around, panic rising in his chest. How could she have disappeared without a sound?

  “Leira?” He called, his voice tight, barely above a whisper. His breath hung in the air, freezing before it could escape.

  But there was no answer. No sign of her. Just the relentless wind and the empty mountain.

  Garel took a hesitant step forward. “What the hell... where did she go?”

  Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was dry. He could barely form the words. He turned in a slow circle, scanning the area, every inch of the snowy landscape seeming to close in on him. There were no tracks. No signs of struggle. Just... nothing.

  Cassian felt eyes boring into the back of his head. He whipped around, to find…

  Well, nothing.

  The snow swirled around him, the wind howling in his ears, but there was no sign of anyone—no movement, no shadow. Just the desolate, endless white, stretching out before him. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears as he spun back around, half-expecting someone—or something—to be standing right behind him. But again, nothing.

  His pulse raced. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold creeping under his skin or something else, but every instinct screamed at him to run. But run where? Into what?

  “Where is everyone?” Cassian muttered to himself, his voice sounding strange and small in the vast emptiness of the mountain. The words barely escaped his lips, swallowed by the wind.

  He turned again, eyes scanning the snow-covered ground, his breath quickening. Tovin, Leira, Garel... They were all gone, without a trace.

  A muffled crack echoed through the air. Not the snap of a twig this time, but something heavier. Something deeper. The ground beneath his feet seemed to hum, vibrating through his bones.

  Cassian’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, his fingers cold and stiff. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he was sure of one thing: Whatever was out there wasn’t human.

  A flash of movement caught the corner of his eye.

  He spun around again, heart hammering, but there was nothing. Only the relentless swirl of snow and the empty, frozen landscape.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was getting harder to breathe, like the air itself was thickening, pressing down on him.He drew his sword. It was sharp as ever, owing to its lack of use.

  The cold steel was a small comfort in his hand, but even that didn’t feel right. The sword hadn’t seen action in far too long, and its weight was unfamiliar now. He held it tighter, trying to steady his nerves, but the stillness of the mountain gnawed at him.

  There was no sound, no sign of movement. Not even the crunch of footsteps in the snow.

  Then, that crack again. The sound of something breaking underfoot. It wasn’t the wind. It was too deliberate. Too close.

  Cassian’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes darting toward the sound.

  Nothing.

  The landscape remained still—too still—only the endless white swirling around him, blurring his vision. He took another step, his boots sinking into the snow, and for a moment, he thought he saw something shift in the distance. A shadow? A figure? He couldn’t tell.

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  His grip on the sword tightened, and he forced his legs to move. One step, then another, his breath shallow, his chest tight. The wind howled around him, biting at his face, but it didn’t mask the feeling growing deep in his gut.

  Something was out there.

  A rustle. Barely audible, but it made the hair on his arms stand at attention. Cassian stopped, straining to listen. No footsteps. No movement. Just the storm, and the deafening silence that pressed down around him.

  Focus, he told himself.

  He wasn’t alone anymore. That much was clear. But whether it was an enemy or something else, he couldn’t tell. The whole mountain seemed to hold its breath.

  His eyes flicked to the others—their absence more apparent than ever. They were nowhere in sight, lost to the white abyss.

  He gripped the sword harder, his knuckles white. A shiver ran down his spine, but he couldn’t tell if it was the cold or something else creeping into his skin.

  There it was again. The crack. Closer now.

  Cassian spun, sword raised, his heart thundering in his chest.

  Nothing.

  The snow was still, undisturbed. The world seemed frozen, suffocating. The mountain was empty, but it felt full, like something was watching, something just out of reach, just beyond his vision.

  What the hell was happening?