The forest had gone dead quiet.
No wind. No snow drifting. Only the whisper of Rin's boots pressing into the frost-bitten earth.
He rolled his shoulders once, the coat's hem brushing against the sheathed sword at his back. A faint exhale steamed the air as he muttered, "Guess it's just you and me now."
The communication line crackled.
Kael's voice: steady, calm — always calm.
"Maintain perimeter sweep. Don't engage unless necessary. Report any unusual movements."
Rin snorted. "Copy that, Captain."
But his grip on the hilt said otherwise.
---
He moved deeper into the woods — trees thickening, black bark twisting like sinew. Snow glowed blue under the moonlight, each crunch of his steps echoing too loud. The scent of iron hung faintly in the air — blood, half-frozen.
Rin crouched, running a gloved hand across the ground. Drag marks. Claw prints, not human. He followed them, boots silent now.
The trail led him to a clearing.
And there — half-buried in snow — a hunter's mask.
Cracked. Dried blood crusted along the visor.
Rin's jaw clenched. "Alpha Squad…"
He didn't notice the movement behind him until it was too late. A blur of white and bone shot out from the tree line — claws slicing the air. Rin twisted, unsheathing his sword mid-turn. Steel met flesh with a wet snap.
The creature staggered back, shrieking — a distorted shape with too many joints, skin mottled with black veins. Its jaw unhinged, revealing rows of jagged teeth glittering with frost.
Rin grinned. "You picked the wrong hunter."
---
He dashed forward, sword flashing like lightning.
The air cracked — his strikes explosive, each movement powered by raw bursts of muscle and instinct. The Wendigo dodged unnaturally fast, climbing a tree in a blur, leaping from branch to branch.
"Fast little bastard," Rin muttered — and vanished from sight.
He reappeared above the beast, sword descending like a falling star.
Impact — a shockwave of snow and dust erupted. The Wendigo screamed, arm severed, black ichor steaming in the cold.
It lunged again, reckless now, tackling him through a half-frozen tree. Splinters exploded. Rin rolled, coughing blood, laughing.
"You hit hard. Good. I like it when they fight back."
---
Another Wendigo emerged from the dark. Then another.
Three now — smaller, but fast — drawn by blood and noise.
Rin cracked his neck. "Guess we're skipping the warmup."
They surrounded him in silence. One crept low. One perched on a branch. One behind him. Their breath came in rasps, hot against the cold. Then they moved — all at once.
Rin's sword became a streak of white fire.
The first beast's head hit the ground before the others registered the kill. He pivoted, sliding under the second's claws, slicing its spine in one brutal upward arc. The third leapt, catching his arm — teeth sinking into flesh.
Rin roared, slammed his elbow into its skull, then rammed his sword through its chest — impaling both beast and tree in a single motion.
For a second, only his breathing remained.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his glove — red on white.
"You're not Kael," he muttered to himself. "You don't wait for orders."
---
As the corpses twitched and stilled, a deeper sound echoed through the forest — a guttural bellow that shook the frost from the trees.
Rin's smirk faded.
Something big was coming.
He looked up the ridge. Shadows moved between the trunks — a shape far larger, far heavier, dragging its claws across the ground with a slow, deliberate scrape. The snow cracked under its weight.
Rin exhaled once, calming his pulse.
"Finally," he said, voice low. "Something worth killing."
He drew his blade again, stance lowering, eyes narrowing into focus. His breath fogged like smoke in the cold.
The Wendigo's roar answered — a sound so raw it vibrated the ribs.
And Rin, ever the one who chased death, stepped forward to meet it.
---
Elsewhere, Kael's comm line flickered with static.
"Rin? Do you copy?"
Nothing but silence. Then a faint growl of wind.
Kael's expression darkened. "...Rin."