More than a million years ago, Vudagreiser - the land the world now knows as Voland, was a barren, dangerous, and accursed land, consumed by shadows and overrun by monstrosities and evil spirits of The Abyss.

  And for hundreds of thousands of years, the Moon Goddess, Blakimanditu Yangzi Chinsrill Drundales, waged a celestial war from the heavens. She cast down her "Demon-Revealing Light," a piercing silver luminescence that luminated the mortal world as both shield and spear. Under her radiant gaze, darkness receded, beasts scorched and scattered, and swaths of fertile land emerged where the first people of Vudagreiser plowed the earth and pushed their borders outward.

  Defeated but not destroyed, surviving legions of darkness retreated to the extreme North. The jagged peaks scraped the stars, and snow fell so thick and fast that it formed an impenetrable white canopy, blocking the Goddess's cleansing light. The monsters evolved, growing ever more cunning. Descending from the mountains, they cloaked in the guise of ordinary men and women, infiltrating villages to feast upon the flesh of the farmers.

  Witnessing the peril of her children, the Goddess wept, realizing that the heavenly gaze was no longer enough. They needed a champion on the ground, the warrior whom he had never known defeat, who carried the strength of a million men. She summoned the Wolf General, Nordvic Wolandtysoe.

  Descending upon the mortal plane, Nordvic was a blend of divine warrior and beast. Beneath armor forged from starlight rippled the muscles of a giant, topped by the snarling head of a Great Black Wolf. Sapphire fire burned in his eyes.

  Nordvic rallied ten of the bravest human pioneers, men and women whose wills were as unbreakable as their primal magic weapons, who bound their own souls to the safety of their brothers and sisters. Together, they marched into the white abyss of the North.

  Ferocious campaign it was, the wind howling like the dying of gods when Nordvic and his ten vanguards clashed against the ancient evils. White snow dripped crimson as the Wolf General's great blade and tearing claws tore through the wicked sorcery of the shapeshifters. They fought through swirling blizzards, battling demons, specters, and the corrupted spirits of the land.

  With a roar that shattered the glaciers, Nordvic led the final charge that propelled the darkness forever away from the mortal world. They forced the demons through the veil, expelling them from the Earth Realm and sealing the breach with their triumph.

  Yet, when the war was won, Nordvic Wolandtysoe did not return to the heavens. Knowing the seal must be watched, he shed his physical form, transforming into a Spirit Guardian which merged with the frozen landscape. The ten pioneers, bound by blood and duty, chose to remain as well. In the heart of that unforgiving mountain range, they laid the stones of a great fortress. They transformed the hostile peaks into a stronghold for humanity, forming a permanent watchtower against the return of the demons.

  Modern Nordvic was a settlement of approximately 580,000 inhabitants, geographically isolated by a perimeter of granite cliffs and glacial valleys. While the boundaries covered a vast, rugged expanse, 95% of the population was concentrated within the "Central Basin" - a massive, artificial valley floor leveled by centuries of geo-engineering to create a habitable flatland amidst the vertical terrain.

  The climate was monotonous. Nordvic remained under snow cover for 365 days a year. Historically, the locals divided their calendar into only two seasons: the Season of Thin Snow, where travel was difficult, and the Season of the Hearth, where travel was impossible. However, the last thirty years had rendered these distinctions obsolete. Thanks to the implementation of the central modern heating grid, life in Nordvic now operated with the same outdoor regularity as any coastal or equatorial city.

  Residential and commercial blocks were clad in insulated metal and flanked by massive pressure-pump wheels that rotated slowly, regulating the flow of thermal heat. A complex network of alloy pipes flowed through the city, wrapping around buildings to circulate superheated gas. From the rooftops, millions of chimneys released plumes of white smoke exhaust. Contrary to their appearance, these emissions were environmentally friendly; they were the byproduct of burning Cryohracite, a unique, clean-burning mineral native to the region.

  Despite possessing one of the smallest populations among the major cities of Voland, Nordvic consistently ranked within the top five wealthiest municipalities in the nation. This economy was fueled entirely by the mountains themselves. The region sat atop the world's densest deposits of rare earth metals and gemstones.

  Yet for all its mineral wealth, the city produced virtually no food.

  The ground was locked in permafrost, making traditional agriculture nearly impossible. Food production was relegated to massive, windowless towers equipped with hydroponic systems and artificial UV lighting that grew leafy greens and root vegetables. However, these facilities only sustained about 10% of the city's needs. The bulk of Nordvic's diet: red meat, grains, and seafood was imported daily via heavy freight lines, making the city's survival entirely dependent on its connection to the outside world.

  That connection was maintained by a transportation network that was considered a marvel of civil engineering. Traditional roads were few and mostly used for local maintenance. Instead, Nordvic relied on a high-speed electric rail system. A complex lattice of illuminated, reinforced tunnels bored through the solid rock, allowing citizens to commute from the residential districts to the mining sectors or the commercial center at speeds exceeding 200 miles per hour, completely immune to the blizzards raging above.

  It was through one of these tunnels that the Port Osea Divers' transport was currently traveling in, gliding silently in ultra-speed toward the heart of the frozen city.

  Himeko watched her own reflection in the window against the darkness outside. They were moving too fast to make out the tunnel walls. The scene beyond the glass was just the thwip-thwip-thwip of tunnel lights streaking past at two hundred miles an hour.

  She sat across from Sarah Lemear at a small table draped in white linen. The carriage was warm, smelling of polished wood and something cooking nearby.

  A uniformed attendant slid the compartment door open. He carried a lacquered tray, balancing two steaming clay bowls.

  "Here we have Kuzeknya - traditional Nordvic bear stew," the attendant announced softly, placing the bowls on the small table between them. "Enjoy your meal."

  He bowed and retreated, the door sliding shut.

  Steam curled up from the bowls, filling the small space with a savory aroma. Garlic, umami, and something like burnt sugar.

  Himeko picked up her spoon. She stirred the dark, viscous broth. Chunks of dark meat tumbled over root vegetables that had been cooked until they were nearly dissolving.

  She took a sip.

  "Oh, it's sweet," Himeko noted, blinking in surprise.

  Sarah blew on her spoonful before tasting it. She nodded, savoring the sugary and earthy warmth spreading through her chest.

  "Caramelized," Sarah said. "They coat the meat in rock sugar before searing, from what I read online."

  Himeko tasted it again. Sarah was right. The initial sweetness gave way to a cured saltiness. It tasted aged, like food meant to keep a person alive through a long winter. It was the taste of preservation meat buried in salt and snow for months until it became something entirely new.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, nothing but the clinking of spoons against clay. The warmth of the stew began to loosen the tension the cold had knotted into Himeko's shoulders.

  Sarah set her spoon down. She wiped her mouth, looking out the window at the yellow blur of the tunnel light.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Himeko," Sarah started, her voice a little quieter than usual. "Are you busy in two months? During the mid-season break?"

  Himeko looked up. "I usually stay in the gym. Why?"

  Sarah fiddled with the edge of her napkin. A flush of pink rose to her cheeks, softening the veteran hitter's features.

  "I would like you to be there," Sarah said. "At my wedding."

  Himeko paused, her spoon hovering halfway to her mouth. A genuine smile broke across her face, warm and unreserved.

  "Finally?" Himeko asked. "Andrew?"

  Sarah let out a laugh, covering her face with one hand. "Yes. Andrew. Finally."

  She lowered her hand, looking at Himeko with a serious, earnest expression.

  "I know what people say. That getting married kills a career. That you lose your edge." Sarah shook her head. "I'm not retiring, Himeko. I want to play until my knees give out. But... going home to an empty apartment after a loss is getting harder. I want someone there. Just some stability isn't so bad you know."

  "You should be happy. You've won in volleyball and in life now, Sarah. I'm very glad." Himeko smiled, waiting a beat before asking. "So you said two months?"

  "Two months, I will message you the exact date," Sarah confirmed. "It will be small. But I want my captain there."

  "I will be there," Himeko promised.

  Sarah smiled, relieved, and picked up her spoon again.

  Himeko returned to her stew, but her mind drifted away from the flavor of the bear meat.

  Stability... Someone waiting at home...

  For years, Himeko viewed those concepts as anchors, heavy things that dragged an athlete down, distractions that ate up time and mental energy. She had her routine. She had her quiet apartment. She had her coffee maker and her books. That was really enough.

  Or so she had told herself.

  She looked at Sarah. The veteran player looked lighter, happier. The prospect of the wedding hadn't dulled her eyes but gave them a new kind of shine.

  Himeko stirred her stew absently. The absolute wall she had built around her private life felt like a cage in this moment. Was solitude really the ultimate strength? Or was it just a comfort zone she was too afraid to leave?

  An image forced its way into her mind.

  A man in a ridiculous cardigan, holding a cane, sprinting down a concrete tunnel. A man ruining a designer shirt with chili oil. A man sending her pictures of a volleyball with his face on it at six in the morning.

  Himeko squeezed her eyes shut for a second, giving her head a small shake. She tried to banish the thought, to push him back into the box labeled "Annoyances."

  But the box wouldn't close.

  Usually, when men approached her, the dismissal was instant and icy, almost like a jerk reflex. With Kevin, she found herself constructing the dismissal manually, brick by brick, and it was exhausting. She was working hard to find reasons to keep him away, and slowly, she was running out of good ones.

  Maybe the logic was flawed. Maybe the distraction wasn't the man himself, but the energy she spent trying to pretend he didn't matter.

  She opened her eyes. She took another bite of the stew. The sweet and salty flavor lingered on her tongue, complex and confusing, much like the feeling settling in her chest.

  Thirty minutes bled away into the perpetual thrum of the magnetic tracks. The intercom sounded muffled as it came to life, a melodic chime preceding the conductor's voice.

  "Now approaching Central City. Please gather your belongings. The outside temperature is currently ten degrees Fahrenheit or negative twelve degrees Celsius. Our heating system will disengage once we enter the station."

  The carriage lights flickered once. The train surged forward, carrying them out of the subterranean darkness.

  Light flooded the cabin. It was a sudden blinding white that forced Himeko to squint against the sudden glare. They had exited the tunnel into the heart of the valley. Through the reinforced glass, the world had transformed into a seemingly infinite expanse of ice and industry.

  The tracks curved sharply to the right. As the Divers' transport banked, the view expanded. A second train burst from an adjacent tunnel mouth, roaring alongside them. The two silver snakes raced parallel across the raised viaduct, kicking up clouds of powder snow in their wake. Behind the glass of the other train, Himeko could see commuters reading papers and checking phones, numb to the breathtaking hostility of the landscape outside.

  The train began to decelerate. The brakes hissed. They glided into the Central Station.

  "Let's move, people! Keep your heat-packs close!" Elena commanded, herding her team toward the doors.

  The Divers grabbed their duffel bags. They stepped off the train and navigated the labyrinth of escalators, rising from the station's belly up to the surface level.

  The automatic doors at the street level slid open.

  The weather of Nordvic hit them instantly. Even with the city's thermal regulation, the cold possessed a biting sharpness. It smelled of freezing condensed ozone and burning mineral.

  Directly ahead, dominating the plaza, stood the arena.

  A massive dome of riveted steel sat heavy against the white sky. Dozens of industrial chimneys protruded from its roof, releasing thick plumes of white exhaust that joined the low-hanging clouds. Massive, insulated pipes, thick as redwood trees, wrapped around the exterior walls like the veins of a titanic mechanical robot, pulsing with the city's thermal lifeblood.

  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

  A low rumble drew their attention to the service road.

  A sleek black bus, crunched over the packed ice of the driveway. It hissed to a halt in front of the players' entrance. The door folded open.

  The Nordvic Wolves began to descend.

  First to emerge was a giant. Naomi Banks had to duck significantly to clear the doorframe. She stepped onto the snow, her long legs encased in thick thermal leggings. A heavy grey parka draped over her seven-foot frame, yet she moved with a relaxed gait, smiling at a few fans gathered nearby.

  Behind her came a smaller figure. Ava Sterling stepped down, clutching a tablet to her chest. Her glasses reflected the grey sky, hiding her eyes. She ignored the cold, her expression frosty and focused, already mentally calculating a game plan.

  Then came the noise. Scout Cinster hopped down the steps, her hands moving wildly as she talked over her shoulder. She looked annoyed, her brow furrowed under her winter hat, her breath puffing out in angry little white clouds as she complained to a teammate behind her.

  Then...

  Jennifer Annista descended.

  She wore a long, black trench coat with the collar popped high against the wind. Her wild, dark hair spilled over her shoulders, a stark contrast to the white world around her. She walked with stoic silence, exuding the crushing aura of an MVP who owned the ground she walked on.

  The Divers stood near the station exit, clutching their bags. They were stuck waiting.

  Coach Elena was currently leaning over the counter of the reception near the plaza entrance. She was ignoring the arrival of the enemy team entirely, engrossed in a passionate negotiation with a concierge about securing a large table at a steakhouse for post-game.

  "Fourteen people," Elena was saying, using hand gestures. "And we need the unlimited breadsticks option. It is non-negotiable."

  Jules Moreno shivered. She pulled her scarf up until it covered her nose, watching the Wolves disappear into the steel arena.

  "Look at them Himeko," Jules whispered, her voice muffled by the wool. "Speaking about aura, jeez. I feel what Willow feel most of the times."

  "Achoo!"

  Willow sneezed from afar, perhaps from the cold, perhaps from something else.

  Himeko adjusted the strap of her bag. She watched the doors of the arena swing shut behind Jennifer's back.

  "They are strong," Himeko admitted calmly.

  She turned to Jules, giving an reassuring nod.

  "Trust the coach's plan. We are not the same team we were last year."