The blizzard never truly stopped. It slowed at times, softening into a low murmur like the restless breathing of a sleeping beast. But it never ended. Lucy tugged her scarf higher, the wool scratching her frostbitten cheeks as she trudged forward through the endless expanse of white. The wind clawed at her coat, cold and relentless, as if it wanted to peel her apart piece by piece.
Behind her, Alex stumbled, muttering curses under his breath. His goggles sat crooked on his face, the strap tangled in his messy hair. Boy, their golden retriever, bounded alongside him, his thick coat powdered with snow. Even in the storm, the dog's tail wagged—a tiny reminder that not everything in this frozen world was broken.
"We have to keep moving," Lucy called, her voice muffled by the storm. She glanced over her shoulder to see Alex lagging behind, his legs heavy in the snow. "It's not far now."
"That's what you said an hour ago," Alex shot back, adjusting his scarf. "You sure you're reading that map right?"
Lucy ignored him, pulling the map from her pocket. It was frayed at the edges, its creases worn thin from years of use. The signal tower was supposed to be close—just over the next ridge, if the old markings were accurate. But nothing looked the same anymore. The Blizzard had swallowed everything, reshaping the landscape into an endless, featureless void.
"We're close," she said, more to herself than to Alex. "We have to be."
Casper darted ahead of them, his black fur blending with the storm until only his glowing green eyes were visible. He was fast and light on his feet, his pawprints barely denting the snow. When he stopped abruptly at the crest of a snowbank, his tail twitching, Lucy felt her stomach tighten. Casper never stopped without a reason.
The cat let out a sharp yowl, his voice cutting through the wind. Lucy quickened her pace, her boots sinking into the snow with every step. "What is it?" she asked, squinting into the haze.
Casper crouched low, his body tense, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. Lucy followed his line of sight, her breath catching as the shape of the signal tower emerged from the white. It was jagged and skeletal, its rusted framework leaning precariously to one side. Snow clung to its beams, and icicles hung like broken fangs from its edges.
"There it is," Lucy said, her voice tight with relief. "I told you we were close."
Alex dragged himself up beside her, his face pale. He pulled his goggles off, letting them hang around his neck, and stared at the tower with wide eyes. "That's it? I thought it'd be... I don't know, bigger."
"It doesn't have to be big," Lucy replied, already moving forward. "It just has to work."
The base of the tower was half-buried in snow, its metal supports creaking under the weight of the ice. Lucy scanned the area, her hand instinctively brushing the hilt of her knife. The Blizzard had a way of hiding things—traps, creatures, people—and she didn't trust the silence.
"Stay close," she said, her voice low. "And keep Boy quiet."
Boy let out a small whine, as if offended by the suggestion that he could ever be anything but helpful. Alex grabbed the dog's collar, pulling him back as Lucy approached the tower. Casper followed at her heels, his fur bristling.
The entrance was little more than a jagged hole where a door had once been. Lucy ducked inside, her breath fogging the air. The interior was colder than she'd expected, the walls coated in frost. Snow had drifted in through broken windows, forming uneven piles on the floor. The air was thick with the metallic tang of rust and something faintly chemical.
"Wait here," Lucy said, glancing at Alex. "I'm going up."
"Why do I have to stay down here?" Alex asked, his voice rising. "What if something happens to you?"
Lucy sighed, her patience already wearing thin. "If something happens, you'll hear me scream. Keep Boy and Casper with you. They'll give you a warning if anyone—or anything—shows up."
Alex grumbled but didn't argue further. He slumped against the wall, pulling Boy close. Casper perched on a broken beam, his green eyes scanning the room like a sentry.
Lucy climbed the staircase slowly, her knife drawn. The metal steps groaned under her weight, and she winced with every creak. The control room was at the top, its door hanging off one hinge. She nudged it open with her shoulder, stepping into the small, cramped space.
Most of the equipment was shattered—screens cracked, wires torn from the walls. But the main console was still intact, its surface covered in a thin layer of frost. Lucy wiped it clean with her sleeve, her gloved fingers trembling as she flipped a switch.
The machine hummed to life, its lights flickering weakly. Static hissed from a nearby speaker, sharp and uneven. Lucy leaned in, adjusting the dials. For a moment, there was nothing but white noise. Then, faintly, a voice emerged:
"…storm… moving south… rail line…"
The transmission cut off abruptly, leaving Lucy staring at the console, her heart pounding. South. The rail line. It was the first real lead they'd had in years. Her mind raced, piecing together the possibilities. If the signal mentioned the rail line, then maybe—just maybe—her parents were heading there too.
She was about to call for Alex when a low growl echoed from below.
Lucy froze at the top of the staircase, her pulse thundering in her ears. The growl came again, low and guttural, vibrating through the metal walls of the tower. It sounded wrong—unnatural—like the scraping of ice dragged against steel. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife as she descended the stairs slowly, her breath fogging the air.
"Alex?" she called, her voice low but steady. "What's going on down there?"
No answer. Just silence, broken only by the howling wind outside.
The storm seemed to press against the tower's frame, groaning and rattling it as Lucy reached the bottom. Her boots crunched against the frost-coated floor, and she turned the corner cautiously. What she saw made her heart lurch.
Alex was backed against the wall, his face pale and his hands trembling as they gripped Boy's collar. The dog stood rigid in front of him, his fur bristling, his teeth bared in a snarl. Casper perched high on a broken beam, his tail twitching like a pendulum. His glowing green eyes were locked on the darkened doorway, where snow swirled in with the wind.
Lucy moved toward Alex, her voice barely above a whisper. "What is it?"
Alex's wide eyes darted to her. "It's outside. Just standing there."
Lucy followed his gaze to the doorway. At first, she saw nothing but the shifting white of the storm. Then, slowly, a shape began to emerge. It was tall and skeletal, its movements disjointed as it stepped through the snow. Frost clung to its elongated limbs, and its glowing blue eyes burned with a cold, otherworldly light. It wasn't human. It couldn't be.
"Lucy," Alex whispered, his voice trembling. "What is that?"
Lucy didn't answer. Her heart was pounding too hard to think. The creature stopped just outside the doorway, its head tilting unnaturally as if studying them. Its clawed hand reached out, dragging against the metal frame of the entrance. Frost spread in its wake, and the temperature in the room plummeted, making Lucy's breath hitch in her throat.
"Get behind me," she said, her voice firm despite the rising fear. She stepped in front of Alex, raising her knife. "Whatever you do, don't move."
The creature stepped forward, its skeletal frame glinting faintly in the dim light. Its feet didn't leave prints in the snow; they barely seemed to touch the ground. Lucy's grip on her knife tightened, the leather handle biting into her palm.
Boy growled louder, his body rigid as he prepared to lunge. "Boy, no!" Alex hissed, pulling him back. The dog resisted, his instincts warring with Alex's command.
The creature paused, its glowing eyes narrowing. Then, without warning, it lunged. The movement was so fast, Lucy barely had time to react. She swung her knife in a wide arc, the blade glinting as it connected with the creature's arm. The impact sent a jolt through her wrist, but it was like striking solid ice. The knife glanced off harmlessly, and the creature's clawed hand came down, swiping at her with enough force to knock her back.
Lucy hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from her lungs. Her knife skittered across the floor, spinning out of reach. The creature turned toward her, its movements jerky but deliberate. Its glowing eyes burned brighter, and frost began to creep across the floor, reaching for her boots like grasping fingers.
"Lucy!" Alex screamed, his voice raw with panic.
Lucy scrambled backward, her gloved hands slipping on the icy ground. Her mind raced, searching for a plan, but there was nothing—no weapon, no escape. The creature loomed over her, its claws raised. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into her bones and slowing her movements.
And then she felt it.
It started as a pressure in her chest, sharp and insistent, like a second heartbeat. The air around her seemed to shift, growing heavier, denser. Frost began to form beneath her, spiraling outward in jagged patterns. She could feel the cold energy pulsing through her veins, as if it had always been there, waiting for this moment.
The creature hesitated, its head tilting again as if it sensed the change. Lucy didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't have time to question it. She focused on the energy, letting it build, letting it take over.
The temperature plummeted further, the air crackling with a sound like breaking ice. A blinding burst of light filled the room, and when it faded, a figure stood between Lucy and the creature.
It was humanoid but far from human. Its body was made entirely of jagged ice, its sharp edges glinting in the faint light. Frost clung to its towering form, and its glowing blue eyes burned with an intensity that made the creature recoil. The room seemed to vibrate with its presence, a raw, primal power that radiated from its frozen core.
Lucy stared at the figure, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. It didn't speak, but she could feel its intent, its unwavering focus on the creature in front of it. The icy figure raised one massive arm, its movements precise and deliberate, and then it struck.
The impact was explosive. The creature staggered back as the icy figure's fist connected with its chest, sending cracks spidering through its skeletal frame. Shards of ice flew through the air, clattering against the walls. The creature let out a high-pitched screech, its glowing eyes flickering like dying embers.
The icy figure didn't stop. It moved forward with relentless precision, its sharp limbs slicing through the air. Each blow sent the creature reeling, its form growing more fractured with every strike. The sound of shattering ice filled the room, mingling with the howling wind outside.
Lucy tried to stand, but her legs felt weak, her body trembling from the surge of energy. She could only watch as the icy figure delivered a final, devastating blow. Its fist slammed into the creature's chest, shattering it completely. The skeletal form exploded into fragments, the glowing light in its eyes extinguished.
The room fell silent.
The icy figure turned toward Lucy, its glowing eyes softening. For a moment, it seemed to study her, its towering form radiating an unspoken connection. Then, slowly, it began to dissolve. Its jagged edges faded into mist, and the frost on the floor melted away, leaving only the faint chill of its presence.
"Lucy!" Alex ran to her, his face pale and his hands shaking. "What was that? What just happened?"
Lucy shook her head, her breath still ragged. "I don't know," she said quietly. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "But... I think it saved us."
Alex helped her to her feet, his gaze flicking nervously to the shards of ice scattered across the floor. "That thing... it wasn't like the others. It was... different. Like it listened to you."
Lucy didn't respond. Her thoughts were a tangled mess of fear and confusion, the memory of the icy figure's glowing eyes still fresh in her mind. She didn't understand what it was—or why it had come. All she knew was that something inside her had changed.
As she looked toward the open doorway, the storm howling beyond it, one thing became clear: the Blizzard wasn't just weather. It was alive. And whatever had awakened inside her, it was part of it.
Lucy's legs felt like jelly as she leaned against the cold metal wall of the tower. The frost was already melting beneath her gloves, but the numbness in her fingers persisted. Alex hovered nearby, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his goggles, his face still pale.
"Lucy," Alex began hesitantly, his voice cracking, "you need to tell me what just happened."
"I don't know." Her voice was low, almost distant. "I didn't... do anything. It just happened."
"Just happened?" Alex's voice rose in disbelief. "That thing came out of nowhere and—what? Protected you? Protected us?"
Lucy shook her head, forcing herself to focus. "I don't know, Alex," she snapped. "But we're alive. That's what matters."
Boy nudged her arm, his warm nose a small comfort against the cold. Casper leapt down from his perch, padding silently across the frost-laden floor to brush against her legs. His green eyes flicked toward the shattered remains of the hostile Echo, then back to her, as if seeking reassurance.
She didn't have any to give.
Outside, the storm howled relentlessly, the snow swirling in chaotic patterns around the open doorway. Lucy glanced at the shards of ice littering the ground. They glinted faintly in the dim light, each piece jagged and sharp. A faint mist rose from them, evaporating into the cold air.
"What was it?" Alex asked, breaking the silence. He stepped cautiously toward the shards, his movements slow and deliberate. "That thing... the one that saved us. Was it one of them?"
Lucy followed his gaze to the doorway. The image of the icy figure—the Echo—was burned into her mind. It had been massive, powerful, and entirely unlike anything she had ever seen. She remembered the way it had moved, its deliberate precision, as though it were an extension of her own will.
"I think..." She hesitated, the words heavy on her tongue. "I think it came from me."
Alex turned to her, his eyes wide. "From you? What does that even mean?"
Lucy didn't have an answer. She only knew that when the creature had attacked, something inside her had responded—something cold and sharp, a force she couldn't explain. The icy figure had appeared, and then it was gone, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
"An Echo," Alex muttered, almost to himself. "It has to be an Echo."
Lucy raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about Echoes?"
"Just what people say," he admitted, shifting nervously. "They're... I don't know, connected to the Blizzard somehow. People have them, right? Raiders use them. Cultists worship them. I've heard stories."
"Stories don't help," Lucy said, her tone sharper than she intended. "We need facts."
"Then we'll figure it out," Alex said, his voice firm. "We always do."
The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the storm outside. Lucy felt the weight of Alex's words, their determination a faint but steady warmth against the cold. They had always figured things out, even when the odds were stacked against them. They'd survived the Blizzard this long, hadn't they?
But this was different. This wasn't just scavenging for food or finding shelter. This was something bigger, something tied to the Blizzard itself. And it wasn't going to stop here.
Lucy pushed herself away from the wall, her legs still shaky but steady enough to move. "We can't stay here," she said. "If that thing found us, more might come."
Alex frowned. "More? You think there are others?"
Lucy nodded, glancing at the shattered ice on the floor. "There's always more."
They packed quickly, gathering their few supplies and securing them in their packs. Boy wagged his tail nervously, his golden fur dusted with frost. Casper leapt onto Alex's shoulder, his usual grace muted by the tension in the air.
Before they left, Lucy hesitated by the console in the control room. The faint voice from the transmission echoed in her mind: "...storm... moving south... rail line... danger..." It was their first lead in years, a fragile thread of hope in an otherwise bleak world.
"South," she murmured. Her fingers hovered over the dials, as though adjusting them might give her more answers. But the machine was silent now, its faint hum the only sign of life.
"Lucy," Alex called from below. "We need to go."
She nodded, turning away from the console. The answers weren't here, not yet. But they would be. She was certain of that.
The storm greeted them as they stepped outside, the wind cutting through their layers like knives. Lucy adjusted her scarf, pulling it tighter around her face. The signal tower loomed behind them, its jagged frame disappearing into the white.
"Which way?" Alex asked, his voice muffled by the scarf covering his mouth.
Lucy pulled out the map, the paper fragile and worn. She traced her gloved finger along the faded markings, her eyes narrowing as she studied the rail line. "South," she said, her voice steady. "We head south."
Alex hesitated, glancing back at the tower. "And what if we run into more of... whatever that was?"
Lucy's grip on the map tightened. She didn't have an answer for that. She glanced at her hand, the one that had gripped the knife so tightly just minutes ago. She could still feel the lingering chill, the faint hum of energy that had summoned the icy figure.
"We'll deal with it," she said finally. "We always do."
As they trudged into the storm, the Blizzard swallowed their tracks almost immediately. The snow whipped around them, the wind howling like a living thing. Boy led the way, his ears perked and his nose to the ground, while Casper perched on Lucy's shoulder, his tail flicking.
The weight of what had happened pressed on Lucy's chest, heavier than the cold. The Echo—her Echo—wasn't just a tool. It was something alive, something tied to her in ways she didn't understand. And it had saved them.
For now, that was enough.
But as they disappeared into the white, Lucy couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
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