The train finally pulled into an abandoned outpost just as the frozen evening began closing in around them.
Its brakes screamed against the rails, metal grinding through the cold as steam rolled across the platform. The place looked dead at first glance, old towers half-buried in snow, broken floodlights hanging from bent poles, and empty storage buildings with their doors frozen open.
The conductor stepped down with a few workers, his face tight as he looked over the side of the train.
"Sorry, everyone," he said. "We need to assess the damage before we keep moving. If we push too hard and something gives out, we'll be stranded in worse conditions."
One of the engineers nodded toward the outpost. "We can set up camp here for the night."
Ice King stretched like this was exactly what he wanted to hear. "All good with me. More days we're out here, more pay we get."
Shadow turned slowly toward him. "Are we serious?"
Ice King shrugged. "I'm just saying. Dangerous weather. Battlefield pay. Extended mission. Math checks out."
Blue Blaze laughed under his breath, but Shadow didn't look amused.
Nightcoil and Shadow moved through the outpost while the workers inspected the train. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they searched the old buildings, platforms, and supply sheds. The deeper they looked, the more signs they found, scratched markings on metal doors, old burn marks from campfires, faded symbols carved into wooden beams.
Shadow stopped at one of the walls and brushed snow off a marking.
"This outpost is old," he said. "Third Great War era."
Nightcoil leaned closer. "You sure?"
Shadow nodded. "Look at the rail structure. Military supply design. This place was probably used for troop movement or supplies."
The conductor walked up behind them, eyes narrowing when he saw the markings.
"Those belong to the White Maw Clan."
Shadow glanced at him. "White Maw?"
The conductor nodded grimly. "They started during the Third Great War. Thieves at first. They'd steal from supply trains, raid battlefield routes, hit weak convoys. Over time, they got organized. Took over supply lines. Built themselves into a full raider army."
Nightcoil looked out toward the dark snowfields. "And now they're here."
"They never really left," the conductor said. "They're led by Varrik Frostbane."
Shadow's tone sharpened. "That helps. Wish we had that name earlier."
The conductor looked uncomfortable. "Most people don't like saying it out loud around here."
Shadow looked back at the symbol carved into the wall.
"Then he's the one testing us."
While Shadow and Nightcoil kept investigating the outpost, Ice King and Blue Blaze pushed farther along the route to scout the tracks ahead.
The snow was deeper away from the station. Their boots sank with every step, and the wind carried small crystals of ice that scraped against their armor.
Blue Blaze pulled his coat tighter. "You know, I'm really starting to dislike frozen planets."
Ice King glanced at him. "That's because you lack culture."
"No," Blue Blaze replied. "It's because my fingers are freezing."
They walked along the rail line, scanning for damage. It didn't take long before the signs appeared.
Broken cargo crates.
Scattered supplies.
A half-buried transport sled.
Then, farther ahead, the twisted remains of an old train car lying on its side, the metal ripped open like a can.
Blue Blaze's expression lost its humor. "They're ruthless."
Ice King crouched near the wreckage, running his hand along the torn metal. "Not just ruthless. Efficient."
Blue Blaze looked at him.
Ice King stood, eyes narrowing toward the dark hills. "They know how to do this. Hit fast, strip the target, disappear before backup comes. This isn't random raider chaos."
They kept walking.
Then Blue Blaze saw it.
A light.
Small, steady, burning on top of a hill half a mile from the tracks.
Ice King stopped beside him.
The figure standing there was impossible to miss.
A tall, broad man in heavy white armor stood against the snowstorm, his long white beard moving in the wind. Skulls hung from his belt. A brutal spear rested across his back, and in one hand he held a giant axe that looked too heavy for a normal person to lift.
He didn't move.
He just watched them.
Blue Blaze's voice lowered. "That him?"
Ice King's face hardened.
"Yeah."
The distant figure raised his axe slightly, not a wave, not a greeting. More like a promise.
Ice King didn't take his eyes off him.
"That's Varrik Frostbane."
The light on the hill flickered as the wind cut across the snow.
Blue Blaze swallowed. "So what now?"
Ice King turned back toward the outpost.
"Tomorrow, we get this train moving as fast as possible."
He glanced once more toward the hill.
"Because he's watching every move we make."
And far above the frozen tracks, Varrik Frostbane stood in silence, waiting for morning.