The cold didn't fade.
It got worse.
Adam lay on the damp riverbank, his body curled slightly as uncontrollable shivers ran through him. His clothes clung to his skin, soaked and freezing, turning every gust of wind into a knife.
His teeth chattered.
His fingers felt numb.
Even breathing hurt.
"…We'll… die like this…" he muttered weakly, his voice barely audible.
Beside him, Rian let out a rough breath, still staring up at the darkening sky.
"Not my preferred way," he replied dryly.
Adam almost laughed.
It came out as a shaky exhale instead.
The sky above them was already dimming, the last traces of light fading into deep blue. Night was coming fast—and with it, colder air.
Adam forced himself to move.
Every muscle protested.
His arms trembled as he pushed himself up, his vision spinning slightly from the effort.
"Sit up," Rian said, his tone sharper now. "If you lie there, you won't get back up."
Adam didn't argue.
He dragged himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around himself instinctively.
"I can't feel my legs…"
"You will," Rian said. "When they start hurting again."
"…That's not comforting."
"It's not meant to be."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Exhausted.
Then Rian shifted, glancing around.
"We need fire."
Adam blinked slowly.
"…Fire?"
"Yes. Fire," Rian repeated. "Unless you want to freeze to death after surviving all that."
Adam swallowed.
Fire.
Simple word.
Impossible task.
"We don't have anything…" he said weakly.
"No tools. No flint. No dry wood," Rian muttered, scanning the area. "And it's getting dark."
Adam's stomach twisted again—not from nausea this time.
From hunger.
Sharp.
Empty.
Painful.
"I'm… hungry…" he admitted quietly.
Rian snorted faintly.
"Good. Means you're still alive."
Adam shot him a weak glare.
"You always like this?"
"Only when I'm not dead."
Despite everything, Adam let out a small breath of amusement.
It faded quickly.
Reality settled back in.
Cold.
Hunger.
Darkness creeping in.
He looked down at his hands again.
Still shaking.
Still weak.
"…This body…" he murmured.
Rian glanced at him.
"What about it?"
Adam hesitated.
Say nothing.
That instinct came fast.
Natural.
"…It's useless," he said instead.
Rian raised an eyebrow.
"…Yeah. That's kind of obvious."
Adam clenched his fists slightly.
Weak.
That was the problem.
Not fear.
Not skill.
Just this body.
Because deep down—
He knew something.
Something he wasn't ready to say.
I can fight.
Not well enough to win against armed men.
Not like this.
But he wasn't helpless.
In his previous life—
Training.
Discipline.
Movement.
Balance.
It was all there.
Buried under weakness.
Under exhaustion.
Under this unfamiliar body that couldn't keep up.
Adam exhaled slowly.
Then I just need to fix that.
The thought came quietly.
But it stayed.
Rian suddenly pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly as he did.
"I'm not sitting here waiting to die," he muttered. "There has to be something we can use."
Adam watched him move.
Unsteady.
But functional.
Stronger than him—for now.
"…I'll help," Adam said, forcing himself up.
His legs nearly gave out immediately.
He grabbed onto a nearby tree, breathing hard as dizziness hit again.
Rian glanced back.
"…You sure about that?"
"No," Adam admitted. "But I'm not staying useless."
Rian stared at him for a second.
Then—
A faint smirk appeared.
"…Alright. Try not to collapse."
Adam ignored the comment.
Barely.
They moved slowly along the riverbank, scanning the ground.
Most of the wood was damp.
Too wet to burn.
The air grew colder by the minute.
Adam's hands shook as he picked up a small branch, snapping it experimentally.
It bent.
Didn't break clean.
"Too wet," he muttered.
"Everything's too wet," Rian replied. "River doesn't help."
Adam looked around.
Thinking.
Not reacting.
Thinking.
What do we need?
Dry fuel.
Spark.
Shelter from wind.
His mind began to piece things together.
Small.
Basic.
But something.
"Under trees," Adam said suddenly.
Rian looked at him.
"What?"
"Lower branches. Leaves block some rain. Might be drier underneath."
Rian blinked.
Then nodded.
"…Worth a try."
They moved deeper into the trees, slower now, more careful.
Adam's breathing remained uneven, but his focus sharpened slightly.
Not panic.
Not fear.
Thinking.
Searching.
They found it.
Not perfect.
But better.
Small twigs beneath a thick tree, partially sheltered.
Still damp.
But not soaked.
Rian crouched, inspecting them.
"…This could work," he admitted.
Adam nodded weakly.
Now the problem—
Fire.
"…We don't have a spark," Rian said, voicing it.
Adam's gaze dropped to the knife in his hand.
Small.
Simple.
But metal.
"…This," he said.
Rian frowned.
"You planning to stab the wood until it catches fire?"
Adam shook his head slightly.
"Stone. If we find the right kind…"
Rian studied him again.
"…You sure you're just some random slave?"
Adam didn't answer.
Instead, he crouched slowly, scanning the ground.
It took time.
Too much time.
His body screamed with every movement.
But eventually—
He found something.
A hard, rough stone.
He picked it up, testing its edge.
"…Maybe."
Rian watched closely.
Adam positioned the knife carefully, his hands still shaking, then struck.
Once.
Nothing.
Twice.
A small spark.
Rian's eyes widened slightly.
"…Do that again."
Adam tried.
Again.
And again.
His arms trembled harder with each strike.
But finally—
A spark caught.
Barely.
The smallest ember touched the driest fibers they had gathered.
Both of them froze.
Watching.
Waiting.
A thin wisp of smoke rose.
"Don't breathe on it too hard," Adam whispered, his voice tight.
Rian leaned in slightly, careful.
The ember glowed.
Flickered.
Then—
A tiny flame appeared.
For a moment—
Neither of them spoke.
Then Rian let out a breath.
"…You might actually be useful."
Adam almost smiled.
Almost.
They fed the flame slowly, carefully, building it piece by piece until a small fire flickered between them.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough.
Warmth.
Light.
Survival.
Adam sat back, his body finally relaxing slightly as the heat touched his frozen skin.
"…We're not dead," he muttered.
"Yet," Rian said.
But his tone was lighter now.
He leaned back, stretching slightly before glancing at Adam.
"…So," he said casually. "You going to explain that?"
Adam looked at him.
"Explain what?"
"The thinking. The fire. The not-acting-like-you've-been-a-slave-your-whole-life thing."
Adam held his gaze for a moment.
Then looked away.
"…I just don't want to die."
Rian snorted.
"Fair enough."
He didn't push further.
For that, Adam was grateful.
Silence settled again—but this time, it wasn't as heavy.
The fire crackled softly between them.
Adam stared into it, his thoughts moving.
Faster now.
Clearer.
We need food.
Water source secured.
Shelter next.
Weapons.
His grip tightened slightly around the knife.
Strength.
That was the biggest problem.
This body wouldn't survive like this.
But bodies could change.
Train.
Adapt.
Grow.
Adam exhaled slowly.
His eyes hardened just slightly.
I'll fix it.
Not in a day.
Not in a week.
But he would.
Because he had no other choice.
"…Rian," he said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"…If we survive this…"
Rian glanced at him.
"…We will."
Adam nodded faintly.
"…Then we get stronger."
Rian smirked.
"Was wondering when you'd say something obvious."
Adam let out a small breath.
Then leaned back against the tree, staring at the fire.
Cold still lingered.
Hunger still gnawed.
Pain still pulsed through his body.
But something had changed.
Not outside.
Inside.
The panic was still there.
The weakness too.
But beneath it—
A plan was forming.
Slow.
Incomplete.
But real.
And in this world—
That might be the difference between dying like the others…
Or surviving long enough to become something more.