Cold.

It was cold...colder than it usually should have been.

Yet as cold as it was, it was equally comforting, enough for the thought of trying to snap out of it never came to him...until it did.

His eyelids fluttered open, only to meet heavy snow falling from the sky all around him.

He could feel the biting cold, as he himself lay buried beneath the snow on the ground.

He tried to move away in caution at the unfamiliar environment, but the speed wasn’t quite what he expected.

His hand pushed against the floor, one that should have sent him flashing twenty meters away, yet it barely jerked him up to his feet, and he took a step back only for the back of his heel to slam into something, sending him falling onto his butt.

All of it made White pause as he turned to his hands.

They were just as he remembered them except...

"So weak."

He mused in disbelief.

That feeling of insane, scary power that he usually got from simply folding in his fingers had disappeared.

The strength he had now reminded him of back when he had just gotten into Xtremecyber, a power level of the Star Rank stage.

Still, his mind drifted away from that anomaly, turning instead to what had tripped him.

He could already see the dark shape in the snow, and dusting the snow aside, his hands grabbed onto something solid before he pulled it out.

Behold, it was a weapon.

A sheathed heavy sword that he just barely seemed to have enough strength to pull up. His hands grabbed the hilt and then,

SHRIIIIIIIING!

The sound of the weapon being unsheathed echoed out as the silver sword was pulled free in one stroke.

"Woah..."

A quiet sound of surprise left White’s lips as he looked at the silver blade that almost seemed to glow with sharpness.

He turned it slightly, creating a smooth angle that allowed White to see his own reflection.

Dark-complexioned, horned like a monster, but with a pair of luminous blue eyes that revealed clear humanity, distinguishing him from what his body looked like.

His eyes narrowed quietly when he noticed some tiny letters etched into the silver blade, and quietly, he read the single line.

"To show mercy...is to show no mercy."

It read, a paradoxical-sounding line that made White roll his eyes as he sheathed the sword.

For a few seconds, he tried to get a grasp of how he had arrived here, and it wasn’t difficult to remember.

He had ventured into the vortex with the Umbrawyric Queen to begin the test.

’So I guess this is the test.’

He mused before calling out.

’Hey, System?’

Silence.

’Huh? System?’

...Silence

’Activate System Interface.’

He ordered, but once more, he was met with the same silence.

’This world suppresses me to the Star Rank stage. The System isn’t responding, which means I’m in my soul form, and since a soul form cannot exist within the physical realm, then this place can only be a simulation.’

He concluded logically, but then his hands unconsciously hugged at his body as he exhaled, only for a puff of cold white steam to escape his lips.

"So cold."

He mused, feeling his body shivering quietly.

The sensation was almost alien, him feeling cold from heavy snowfall, but the reality hit him hard:

He might just freeze to death if he remained here.

He grabbed the sword from the ground, wearing it on his back before turning to a random direction and beginning his walk.

White’s goal was simple:

To find some sort of shelter to protect him from the freezing cold.

And after what seemed like half an hour of almost freezing to death, he chanced upon an orange flame-like glow in the distance.

The sight of it alone made his heart warmer, just enough to give him strength to increase his steps toward the direction.

Only two minutes later, White finally arrived before it.

It was a mini cottage of sorts, and he raised his hand, knocking twice, yet inches from his fingers landing on the door, he suddenly froze when he felt an inexplicable aura of danger.

But it was fleeting, almost like an illusion, and the freezing cold made him continue his knock on the door.

He paused after knocking six times, as the sound of footsteps echoed out, followed by the knob twisting open.

What appeared before him was a smile that was a bit wary, and it came from an older woman who wore a veil over her head, wrinkles visible at the corners of her face.

She looked at him, noticing the snow clinging to him and the slight shiver of his body, huddled together beneath his arms.

As for White, he didn’t know what to say.

This didn’t look like a hotel or anything of the sort.

How could he even begin an introduction convincing an older woman to allow him, a man with horns and a large sword on his back, into her home?

But unbelievably enough,

"You’re cold."

She said first, and he nodded twice.

"Come on in and rest by the fire."

She said, opening her door wider for him.

The sight of that made White suspicious, and he almost wanted to turn around and leave immediately.

One could say she was simply being kind, but kindness was never a familiarity to him.

Still, the cold got the better of him, and he stepped in, muttering a caution-laced "thank you" before entering.

Like a moth to a flame, he saw the fire burning by the side and his steps quickened as he kneeled before it, reaching his hands outward.

It took twenty seconds of him remaining there in silence for the cold within him to thaw enough to give him some sense, and that was when he noticed the trolley-bed where someone quietly lay close to the fire.

The sight of it made him pause, but then he heard footsteps behind him and turned, watching as the old woman stepped toward him with something shocking in her hands.

’Is... is that...!?’