The cold bit immediately.
Not gradual. Not creeping. Just instant cold that felt like teeth.
Arden's breath fogged. Her wet clothes froze to her skin. Cracking sounds as she moved. Ice forming on her jacket. Her hair. Her eyelashes.
"Keep moving." Kael was already walking. Boots crunching on snow. "Standing still means freezing."
The cathedral rose ahead. Gothic architecture carved from ice. Impossible ice. Walls ten feet thick. Buttresses reaching toward a sky that was white. Not clouds. Just white. Like looking at nothing.
Arden walked. Each step hurt. Her muscles seizing. The cold reaching through clothes. Through skin. Into bones.
Amara was shaking. Teeth chattering. She'd been in the water too. They all had. And now the cold was trying to kill them.
"How far?" Amara's voice barely worked.
"Half a mile." Kael pointed. "Maybe less."
They walked. Snow up to their knees. Each step pulling. Dragging. The cathedral didn't get closer. Stayed the same distance no matter how far they went.
"It's moving," Arden said. Numb lips. Words slurring. "The cathedral. It's moving away from us."
"No." Kael stopped. Turned. Looked back the way they'd come. "We're walking in circles."
Their footprints in the snow. Leading in a curve. Ending where they stood. They'd walked two hundred feet and gone nowhere.
"Station's playing with us." Amara sat down. Just sat. "I can't. I can't keep walking in circles. I'm too cold."
"Get up." Kael pulled her to her feet. "Sit down here, you die."
"Maybe that's better." Her eyes were glazed. Hypothermia setting in. "Die. Resurrect somewhere warm. Terminal Zero was warm."
"You'll lose more memories." Arden forced her legs to move. Toward the cathedral. Different direction. "You'll forget why you're fighting."
"Maybe I want to forget."
They walked. Arden didn't know if this direction was different. Couldn't tell. Everything looked the same. White snow. White sky. Ice cathedral in the distance.
Her sister had a name. She knew that. Had a sister. Lost her. Just lost her.
But what was her name?
The forgetting hurt worse than the cold.
Five minutes. Ten. The cathedral was closer now. Maybe. Hard to tell. But Arden thought they were making progress.
Then she saw the body.
Lying in the snow. Face-down. Frozen solid. She couldn't see who it was. Just a person-shaped thing. Ice covering them completely.
"Don't look." Kael tried to pull her past.
But Arden was already kneeling. Rolling the body over.
A woman. Maybe forty. Asian features. Frozen expression of terror. Eyes open. Mouth open. Screaming at nothing.
"Jin-Hwa." The name came from somewhere. A memory. "The surgeon. From Station Two."
"She got here before us," Kael said. Quiet. "Must have died in the garden. Resurrected. Found her way to Station Six. And froze."
"Why didn't she reach the cathedral?"
"Maybe she did." He looked at the building. Closer now. Definitely closer. "Maybe the cathedral isn't safety. Maybe it's worse than freezing."
They kept walking. Left Jin-Hwa behind. Left her frozen body in the snow.
Two more bodies. Then three. Then five. All frozen. All players Arden recognized from Terminal Zero. People who'd died in earlier Stations. Resurrected. Tried to continue. Made it this far.
And froze.
"We're going to end up like them," Amara whispered. "We're all going to freeze and resurrect and forget and freeze again until there's nothing left."
"No." Arden didn't know if she believed it. But she said it anyway. "We're going to make it."
The cathedral was close now. A hundred feet. Fifty. The doors were massive. Ice carved to look like wood. Handles made of frozen metal.
Kael reached them first. Grabbed the handle. His hand stuck. Ice forming instantly. Bonding skin to metal.
"Don't pull." Arden grabbed his wrist. "You'll tear your hand off."
"Then what?"
She pulled out the Codebook. Soaked. Frozen. Pages stuck together. She pried it open. Found a blank page. Pen appeared. The ink was sluggish. Freezing.
She wrote fast. Before the ink froze completely.
The door is warm.
The words sank into the page. The Codebook grew hot. So hot it burned. But the heat spread. Through her hands. Up her arms. Into her body.
The door warmed. Ice melting. Steam rising. Kael's hand came free. The metal handle was warm now. Almost hot.
He pulled. The door opened. Warm air rushed out. Gold light. The sound of music. Organ music. Playing a hymn.
They stumbled inside. The door slammed shut behind them.
Warmth hit like a wall. After the cold, it felt like fire. Arden collapsed. Just lay on the floor. Stone floor. Warm stone. Her body shaking. Convulsing. The warmth almost painful after so much cold.
"What did you lose?" Kael's voice. Close. Concerned.
Arden tried to remember. Tried to grasp what memory the Codebook had taken. But there was just fog. Empty space where something had been.
"I don't know," she whispered. "Something small. I think. Something that didn't matter."
But every memory mattered. Every piece. Lose enough small things and you lost everything.
She forced herself up. Looked around.
They were in a chapel. Small. Intimate. Pews lining both sides. Stained glass windows showing saints. Martyrs. People suffering beautifully. And at the front, an altar. White cloth. Gold candlesticks. Cross made of ice.
No one else was here. Just them. Just three survivors in a frozen chapel.
"Where is everyone?" Amara stood slowly. Carefully. "The other players. The ones who made it inside."
"Dead." A voice from behind the altar. "Or worse than dead."
A figure stood. Had been kneeling. Praying maybe. Now rising.
A priest. Old. White hair. White robes. Face like carved marble. Eyes blue. Pale blue. The color of ice.
Father Frost. Had to be.
"Welcome," the priest said. Voice smooth. Cold. "Welcome to the Confessional. Where truth is mandatory. Where lies are fatal. Where the only way forward is through honesty."
He moved from behind the altar. Gliding. Feet not quite touching the floor.
"I am Father Frost. Keeper of sins. Judge of souls. The one who hears all and forgives nothing." He gestured to the pews. "Sit. Please. We have much to discuss."
"We're not sitting." Kael's hand moved to his side. Like reaching for a weapon he didn't have. "We're not playing your game."
"Oh, but you are." Father Frost smiled. Gentle. Terrible. "You entered the cathedral. You accepted the warmth. Now you must pay the price." He gestured again. More insistent. "Sit. Or freeze where you stand."
The temperature dropped. Instantly. The warmth vanishing. Cold rushing back. Worse than outside. Arden's breath fogged. Ice formed on her jacket again.
They sat. No choice. Sat in the front pew.
The warmth returned. Not comfortable. Just enough to not freeze.
"Better." Father Frost stood before them. Hands folded. "Now. The rules. Simple rules. Honest rules. Each of you will confess your greatest sin. The act that brought you here. The guilt that feeds the Entity. Confess truthfully, and you move forward. Lie, and you freeze. Permanently. Become part of the cathedral. Forever."
"What if we don't want to confess?" Amara asked. Small voice. Scared.
"Then you never leave." Father Frost's smile widened. "You stay here. In my chapel. With all the others who refused. Would you like to meet