I WAS Humanity's HOPE-Chapter 41: Whitefall

Snow began to fall as they stepped deeper into the ruins.

Not a blizzard. Not even wind. Just a steady, whisper-soft descent—flakes so perfectly symmetrical they looked etched by hand.

Meredith glanced up. "I didn’t notice any clouds before."

"There weren’t any," Richard said.

The flakes clung to his cloak but didn’t melt. Instead, they shimmered faintly—almost like glass. He plucked one off his shoulder, only for it to sink into his glove like ink into paper.

And suddenly, he felt tired.

Just for a second.

A brief weight behind the eyes. A tug of lethargy that didn’t belong.

Then it passed.

"Did you feel that?" Meredith asked, voice quiet but taut. She was watching him closely.

"Yeah," he muttered, confused—startled. And more than anything, wary. Something instinctive coiled tight inside him, whispering of danger.

He glanced back at the snow. Still falling, still soft. Still wrong.

"We need cover," he said sharply. "Now."

Meredith didn’t argue. She was already scanning the half-buried buildings around them. "That one," she said, pointing to a structure sunken into the snow, its archway warped but intact.

They moved quickly.

By the time they crossed the threshold, Richard’s shoulders ached. Not from exertion. From pressure. Like something unseen was slowly leaning against his very being.

Inside, the air was dead still. No snow. Just brittle silence.

The building was long and low, mostly collapsed toward the far end. Its walls were carved from a pale mineral with veins of shimmering ice running through it, and its shelves—if that’s what they were—appeared grown rather than built, rising from the floor in curling arcs like the fronds of some petrified plant.

The shelves held scrolls.

Ancient, cracked scrolls, bound in a leather-like material that flaked apart when touched directly. Meredith used her magic to levitate one free, eyes narrowed.

"These aren’t runes," she muttered. "And they’re not magical notation, either."

Richard leaned over her shoulder, frowning. The markings were precise and elegant, arranged in vertical columns. Letters—but not from any alphabet he knew.

"No," he said quietly. "It’s a language. An actual one. This was written by a people."

Meredith swallowed. "But who?"

He scanned the room again. The scrolls weren’t just carelessly stacked. They were arranged. Preserved. Worshipped, maybe.

There was reverence here, even in the dust.

"Did humans live here?" Meredith murmured. "In a dungeon?"

Richard was quiet for a beat. "What if it’s not a dungeon?"

Her head snapped toward him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... this feels different..." He gestured to the shelves. "This is order. Ritual. Not a chaotic rift, but something constructed."

"Then what is it? A frozen world shoved into a rift? A prison? A memory?"

Richard’s voice was barely above a whisper. "I don’t know."

The scroll in Meredith’s grip pulsed faintly.

At the same time, his system pinged—quiet and cold.

WARNING – The Frost Archive You have uncovered an ancient record not meant for your eyes. To stay within this hall without authorisation may invoke punishment. Attempting theft will worsen penalties. Remaining time until punishment: [2 minutes].

Richard stared at the warning, throat tightening. What the actual fuck?

If Meredith’s expression was anything to go by, she saw it too.

"We’re not supposed to be here, Rich," she whispered.

"Put the scroll down," he said.

"I won’t take it out of the building—"

"Do it anyway."

She did. The parchment settled into its niche without resistance.

They both stood there, breathing the stale, freezing air, listening to their own heartbeats. The snow couldn’t reach them here.

He moved to the entrance and peered through the warped arch.

The snow was still falling.

Still unnaturally symmetrical, and although he couldn’t feel anything off, Richard was sure it was still wrong. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

And then—he saw them.

Movement in the snow. Dozens of them, fanning out between the spires and pillars of the fallen city. Pale shapes, limbs twitching unnaturally as they strode through the snow with mechanical efficiency.

"Mer," Richard said. "We’ve got company."

She joined him, peering over his shoulder.

Her wand glowed faintly. "A-Ranks," she said softly. "Lots of them. At least two S-Rank signatures too."

Richard’s jaw clenched. "Do they know we’re here?"

"Not yet."

As if to mock him, one of the creatures lifted its head, sniffed the air, and let out a chittering screech that cut through the ruin like a blade.

Others responded. Loudly.

Meredith stepped back. "They know now."

Richard’s daggers slid into his hands, his body already adjusting, muscles tensing.

The snow itself was a hazard. They couldn’t fight in it for long—at least, not outnumbered.

He turned. "We’re going to funnel them."

Meredith nodded grimly. "This doorway’s our choke."

The building’s narrow entrance and low ceiling meant only one or two creatures could engage them at once. That gave them a fighting chance.

"I’ll light them up," Meredith said. "Buy us time."

He didn’t need to say anything. She was already charging her spell.

I wonder how long the building will hold.

The first monsters breached the broken wall beyond the vault—low to the ground, scrabbling on all fours, their limbs twisted like melted wax and reset wrong. Ice pulsed visibly beneath translucent skin, giving them an otherworldly, bluish glow beneath the snowlight.

Their jaws opened the wrong way.

Richard’s mask didn’t flicker. He didn’t need it to.

"Skeltherin," he muttered. "A-Rank. Classic swarmers. Weak to dismemberment, immune to fear."

"And fast," Meredith added.

They came in a tide—maybe twenty of them—skittering like centipedes, jaws clicking, ice trailing from their spines.

Meredith flicked her wand once.

"Volcanic Burst."

A tremor split the snowy floor before the vault’s threshold. Molten stone erupted in a perfect half-ring in front of the entrance, casting everything in flickering red.

The first five Skeltherin didn’t even screech. They hit the molten stone and melted, their bodies softening like wax and then vanishing into steam.

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

The rest veered around the lava. Some tried to leap it.

Richard moved.

Phantom Afterimage activated the moment he did, leaving behind shimmering echoes that darted right as he shot left.

The Skeltherin attacked the ghosts.

His real self landed behind one. Daggers flashed.

Steel hissed through cartilage and crystal bone. He ducked under a second swipe, rolled, and drove both daggers through another beast’s temple.

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

"Behind you!" Meredith shouted.

One had scaled the crystal wall and pounced.

Richard didn’t flinch.

Mirror Step.

He vanished in a blink—reappearing ten metres above, weightless for a fraction of a second as his cloak fluttered open. Below, the creature’s claws tore through empty snow.

He dropped.

Twin daggers impaled its spine on the way down, severing its movement like a switch.

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

Three more circled Meredith. She was already mid-cast, hand glowing.

Her lightning bolt arced out, surged through the first two, chained to the third.

Their bodies went rigid—then shattered like dry glass under pressure.

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

You have slain a Skeltherin (A-Rank).

Another howl broke through the white quiet.

A larger creature entered the fray—its body hunched, plated in jagged ice. Bipedal, but barely. It dragged a club of bone behind it, its single eye glowing like a sunken ember.

"Another one," Meredith said grimly. "S-Rank."

Its roar made the snow pulse.

The lava cooled faster than it should have.

"Separate it!" Richard called.

She didn’t reply—already moving sideways, drawing the creature’s eye.

It lunged.

Meredith ducked beneath the swing and jabbed her wand into the beast’s flank.

"Storm Avatar."

Lightning roared through her—her body lifted into the air, wrapped in arcs of pure current.

She backhanded the S-Rank with a palm full of storm.

It staggered, limbs twitching.

Richard didn’t hesitate.

Split Gleam.

He activated it as he ran—daggers glowing silver-bright. His strikes moved faster than thought.

The first blow cut into the beast’s hip.

The second hit mirrored it, slicing deeper. The echo-strike shimmered and bypassed its outer plating completely, piercing the joint beneath.

It roared again, but stumbled.

He slashed its knee—then blinked with Mirror Step again, appearing above its shoulder.

One dagger plunged into its eye. The second—its mirrored twin—slammed through its skull from the other side, bypassing what remained of its defenses.

You have slain a Palehorn Warden (S-Rank).

The body collapsed in on itself, melting into slush and bone splinters.

The snow kept falling.

But the field was silent again.

Richard sheathed one dagger, exhaling steam. "Not bad."

Meredith landed beside him, hair still crackling with residual energy. "I thought that would be harder."

"It will be," he said.

She arched a brow.

They turned to look back toward the vault.

And above them, the snow began to fall a little heavier.

Just a little.

"Let’s go into another building for now."