The first sign that something was wrong came with the silence, not the peaceful silence of midnight, nor the quiet calm of snowfall; this silence felt unnatural, as if the entire city had been wrapped inside a thick layer of suffocating cotton.The usual hum of air conditioners, the distant rumble of traffic, and even the faint barking of stray dogs had all vanished without warning. Inside a cramped tenth-floor apartment, Ethan Vale slowly opened his eyes, cold.A biting, unnatural cold seeped through the thin blanket covering his body, pressing against his skin like invisible needles. His breath escaped in faint white mist, and for a moment, he frowned in confusion, wondering if the air conditioner had somehow malfunctioned during the night.But Ethan didn't own an air conditioner. The realization came slowly, like a blade sliding into his thoughts, and then he saw the frost.Thin white crystals had formed along the window edges, spreading outward like veins. The glass looked opaque,

The first scream tore through the hallway before dawn, sharp and panicked, shattering what little calm remained in the building.Ethan had not been asleep.He sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, his breath faintly visible in the dim light. The power had been out for hours, and the temperature inside the apartment had continued to fall despite every measure he had taken. Even the walls seemed to radiate cold, as though the entire structure had become a frozen shell.The scream came again. This time, it was followed by frantic pounding on a door somewhere down the corridor. “Open up! Please just let me in! I’m freezing!”Ethan’s gaze shifted toward his own door, his expression hardening as memories resurfaced unbidden. In his previous life, this had been the beginning, the moment when fear overpowered dignity.When neighbors stopped being neighbors and began measuring each other by what they had and what they could take.He stood slowly and walked toward the door, careful and sil

The banging on Ethan’s door began just as the heater sputtered and dimmed, its steady hum breaking into an uneven, stuttering rhythm that immediately set his nerves on edge. “Ethan! Open the door!”The voice on the other side was familiar, though strained by cold and urgency in a way that made it almost unrecognizable.Ethan did not move right away. Instead, he remained beside the table, one hand resting lightly on its surface where frost had cracked the wood hours earlier.The faint chill within his body pulsed again, quieter now, yet no less present like a patient predator lying in wait beneath still water.Across the room, Lena turned toward the door, her expression tightening as the knocking grew louder and more frantic. “Please!” the voice continued. “They’re coming back! We need help!”At last, Ethan stepped forward and leaned in to glance through the peephole.Three figures stood outside in the corridor.The front man was one of the residents from the lower floors, a quiet offi

The frost moved before Ethan had any chance to react.It did not creep the way ice normally did, slowly and predictably along edges and seams. Instead, it spread with intention, branching upward across the fractured wall in jagged, deliberate lines that ignored both gravity and logic.The cracks in the concrete deepened as a low, brittle sound filled the room, as though the structure itself were being rewritten from within.Lena stepped back on instinct, her body already retreating before her mind could fully process what she was seeing. “That isn’t you,” she said, her voice tight with controlled alarm.Ethan didn’t answer because she was right.He could feel the difference immediately. When he used his power, the cold responded to his will. It flowed where he directed it, precise, contained, even when it strained against him.This was something else entirely. The sensation brushing against his awareness felt alien, like a presence pressing against the inside of his mind without permi