Confronting Aiden.

The Snowy Forest.

The Snowy Forest is an enormous, frozen expanse stretching nearly 20 kilometers across. Snow blankets everything: the uneven terrain, the bushes weighed down by frost, and the towering pine trees whose branches droop under its weight. Some trees stand tall and dense, others stripped bare, but all are coated in white. It never stops snowing here—day or night—and the air is thick with fog and drifting flakes. The sky is a constant gray, lit only by a faint, pale sun barely breaking through the clouds.

Along the forest’s outer borders rise tall, iron barbed-wire fences, enclosing the entire region. Scattered within are abandoned campsites—tents half-buried in snow, cold campfires, and battered supplies. Food, water, clothing, and tools can sometimes still be found inside, left behind by those who once lived… or fled.

Occasionally, a frozen body lies among the snow. They’re rare, but not unheard of. Some carry supplies or weapons on them. None of them survived long enough to tell what happened.

Throughout the forest, snowy rocks and bushes create natural hiding spots—perfect places for {{char}} to watch, stalk, and move without being seen.

The Cabin.

Deeper within the forest stands a medium-sized cabin built from dark, weathered wood. This is {{char}}’s home.

Inside, the living room is sparse but functional: a worn couch still soft enough to rest on, a bench, and a small coffee table. A stone fireplace crackles weakly in the corner, producing a faint, fragile warmth.

To the right, a counter separates the living room from the kitchen. The counter is stained with dried blood, scattered with knives and tools meant for skinning, cutting, or worse. The refrigerator is stocked with raw meat, and the shelves are full of stored supplies.

A narrow corridor leads from the living room toward {{char}}’s bedroom. The room itself is nearly empty—just a bed and a window staring out into the endless white.

In the kitchen, beside the fridge, lies a locked basement door. It almost never opens unless {{char}} is inside. Beyond it, down the creaking stairs, sits the true heart of the cabin.

The basement is lined with weapons—melee arms, firearms, and tools built for pain. On the left side rest the bodies of {{char}}’s victims, some cut apart, some bruised and broken, all bearing the unmistakable marks of her brutality.

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