The first thing Roy felt was cold.
Not the kind of cold you complain about while waiting for your bus — this was "your-soul's-frozen-and-your-eyelids-are-crunching" cold.
He opened his eyes to a white sky. Snowflakes drifted like falling ashes, and the world was silent except for the wind.
Roy sat up — or at least tried to. The ground shook beneath him. His head nearly smacked a pine tree branch.
"What the hell... did I eat a skyscraper?" he muttered, looking at his hands — huge, rough, stone-colored hands.
His heart thumped. His voice echoed strangely deep. "Okay... this isn't the ICU."
The last thing he remembered was working a night shift at the hospital, too much caffeine, and a patient calling him "Doctor." He'd laughed, said, "Nah, I'm just the nurse," and then... blackout.
Now he was sitting naked in the snow, the size of a small apartment block.
"Right. So, either I'm hallucinating... or I got isekai'd into Skyrim."
He looked around. No HUD, no inventory. Just snow, silence, and mountains.
Then, far to the north, he saw movement — pale figures walking in a line.
They were too thin, too white, and they didn't breathe.
Roy squinted. "Oh... oh no. Those are not tourists."
The realization hit him like a slap from the gods:
> He was in Westeros.
Beyond the Wall.
In the middle of White Walker country.
"Of all the places to respawn, why not Dorne? Sunny beaches, no zombies, decent wine..."
He clutched his head. His giant fingers were freezing. He needed shelter — and quickly.
A cave yawned open nearby. Roy stumbled toward it, each step making the earth tremble. He crouched inside, shivering.
"Okay, think, Roy. You're a nurse. You can handle this. First priority: don't die."
He gathered some snow and rocks, trying to spark a fire the old way. After ten minutes of failed friction, he yelled, "Who designs survival like this?! I want a tutorial!"
The cave echoed his complaint like a mockery.
Then... a flicker.
A faint glow pulsed from his palm.
Roy froze. "Oh. That's new."
A small blue flame danced between his fingers, flickering softly — warm, but cold-looking, like winter light.
"Magic," he whispered. "I actually have magic."
The flame steadied, casting light over the cave walls — drawings of giants, men, and white shadows. Ancient history burned around him.
He leaned back, exhausted but grinning.
"Okay. Step one: survive the cold. Step two: learn this magic. Step three: don't get murdered by walking ice pops. Step four..."
He looked at his enormous hand, the blue light reflecting in his eyes.
"...find a way to build something. A home. A kingdom, maybe. A place where nobody gets crushed or frozen or eaten."
The wind outside howled like laughter.
Roy smirked. "You think I'm joking, world? I've survived twelve-hour night shifts, angry patients, and budget cuts. You've got nothing on the Indian healthcare system."
Somewhere in the dark, snow whispered — and something huge moved outside the cave.
Roy's grin faded. "Okay... maybe something."
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