Chapter3

The infrared thermometer on the surveillance screen flickered, the numbers coming to a dead stop at minus forty degrees.

Oak City had stopped breathing overnight.

I stared at the feed from the Route 2 mountain camera, my stomach churning. The people who were struggling in the blizzard just hours ago hadn't turned into stiff ice sculptures.

Instead, they were clawing their way up from the snowdrifts in twisted postures that defied all biological structure.

Thick, ashen frost coated their bodies. Their eyeballs were a murky, dead gray. A passing survivor stepped forward to check on them, but the ice sculpture suddenly lunged, ripping open his carotid artery with a single bite.

[Warning: Pathological mutant detected. Designation: Frost Corpse.]

[Traits: Loss of pain sensation, extreme cold resistance, highly lethal aggression.]

The ghostly blue system panel popped up across my retina.

Following the camera's angle, two kilometers outside the mining area, a refugee convoy of three off-road vehicles had broken down.

The extreme cold had turned their low-grade diesel into a thick sludge. Car doors were shoved open. Just as a few people bundled in sleeping bags rolled out, their previously frozen-to-death companions in the back seats suddenly snapped open their dead, gray eyes.

Screams pierced the blizzard, drifting faintly into the underground bunker's audio pickups.

This, however, was a ready-made hunting ground.

I snatched the polar combat armor off the rack. The heavy composite materials locked onto my body, sealing me off from the control room's climate control.

Hefting the sixty-pound solid titanium warhammer, I smashed the release button for the blast doors.

Hydraulic struts let out a low groan. The moment the door cracked open barely an inch, the minus-forty-degree gale slashed across my goggles like a razor.

I shoved my way through the corridor against the wind pressure and backhanded the lock on the airtight gate.

The snow beneath my boots had frozen into a solid shell of ice. I knew this downhill mining trail all too well; every ten meters there was a natural fault line acting as a step.

Following the direction of the screams, I quickly skidded down the ice. The blizzard tore at my ears, and the stench of blood soon seeped into my breathing valve.

Next to the stalled convoy, the snowfield had already been dyed a dark crimson.

Three frost-covered corpses were gnawing on the remains scattered across the ground. Hearing my heavy footsteps, their heads snapped around, their ashen eyes instantly locking onto me.

They dropped almost to all fours, pouncing like wild beasts.

I didn't back down. Instead, I accelerated to meet them head-on.

Under that suppressive aura, the distance shrank to less than two meters. I violently twisted sideways, my combat boot stomping down on a fractured ridge of ice.

The leading Frost Corpse couldn't brake on the slick surface. Its feet slipped, instantly destroying its balance as it slid rigidly past my flank.

Drawing power from the torque of my waist, the warhammer hummed through the air, whipping up a gale.

Bang!

A muffled crash exploded across the snowfield. The titanium hammerhead smashed flawlessly into its frost-brittled knee joint.

There was no dull thud of breaking bone, only the sharp crack of shattering ice. The joint, along with its blackened flesh, blew apart into a spray of icy shrapnel.

[Kill Value +1]

The system chime was crisp and melodic.

Losing its center of gravity, the Frost Corpse smashed into the snow. Before it could swing a claw, my hammer rebounded and crushed its skull.

Blackened, frozen tissue splattered against my greaves.

The other two Frost Corpses were already in my face. I ducked under a sweeping, icy claw. My hammer swung in an uppercut arc, shattering one's jaw into pieces.

These monsters felt no pain. Unless their mobility was completely destroyed, they would fight to the death.

I began to weave around the icy fault lines. The blizzard became the perfect cover. Every swing of the warhammer was accompanied by flying ice shards and black blood.

[Kill Value +12]

[Kill Value +25]

More and more mutated Frost Corpses poured from the convoy. They crawled out from the cabins and beneath the snowdrifts, launching a relentless charge at me.

My arms began to ache. The sixty-pound hammer grew heavier with each consecutive swing. The air in my lungs felt laced with glass shards; every breath brought a burning pain.

Only three left.

I clenched my jaw, locked my eyes onto a Frost Corpse leaping through the air, gripped the haft with both hands, and swung a full-moon arc.

The brutal impact instantly caved in its chest, driving frozen ribs out through its back. The hammer's momentum carried through a horizontal sweep, snapping the necks of the remaining two.

[Kill Value +30. Objective Reached.]

[Berserker Core Lv1 Unlocked.]

The system panel on my retina erupted in a blinding crimson light.

A boiling rush of heat pumped from my heart, surging through my veins to flood my entire body in an instant. My aching muscles surged with fresh power. The cold that had seeped into my marrow was forcefully expelled by this wave of heat.

Cold resistance and raw strength were completely reforged in this single moment.

I hefted the sixty-pound warhammer with one hand. It felt significantly lighter.

The hazard targets on the snowfield were cleared out, leaving only a floor of ice shards and mangled remains.

I let out a long breath, the hot air condensing into thick white mist in front of my visor.

Just as I turned to retreat back into the mineshaft, the tactical terminal on my wrist began to vibrate frantically.

On the infrared radar interface connected to the bunker's perimeter, five glaring red dots popped up.

These weren't the cold-blooded signatures of the Frost Corpses. They were living human bodies radiating normal body heat.

The dots moved with tactical precision. They bypassed the stalled convoy and were tracking my exact footprints, closing in on the alloy gates of the climate-controlled bunker.

Even more alarming, the radar scanned high-density metal signatures on their persons.

The distinct outlines of long-barreled firearms.

I narrowed my eyes, tightened my grip on the warhammer, and strode right back into the depths of the blizzard.