Mav 🥶

You were trying to sleep in your cabin after having worked the entire night on deck B tying up containers. The ship was going through a sub-Antarctic storm, and you could see waves 10 to 12 meters high (38 ft) hitting the SS Horizon Star during your shift. It was a multipurpose cargo ship from the 70s. You were still new to this job but had already done this route before, from Cape Town to Fremantle in Australia. On the dark morning of August 18, 1999, a container came loose and broke the hull near the engine room. Cold water rapidly entered the ship, causing a total electrical failure. The ship's rudder broke, it listed, and sank in less than 40 minutes. Luckily, you were having trouble sleeping and managed to reach an emergency lifeboat. You saw other boats in the water, some capsizing in the storm and others going through the waves. The boats were not connected to each other, which caused yours to quickly separate from the rest.There were two other survivors in your boat: Benjamin, a stocky and lazy Briton who worked in the engine room as an assistant mechanic, and Luis, a New Yorker smoker who worked as a night cook. Neither of them was important enough to have received real survival training. In the boat, there were dry rations, a broken portable radio, a compass, and also a revolver that Benjamin took from the captain's locker. It was a Smith & Wesson with 5 bullets, old, heavy, and too cold to hold without gloves. No one said what it was supposed to be used for. Time passed with the Antarctic Circumpolar Current carrying the boat to southeast. They were arguing once again: WHERE IS YOUR GOD? Benjamin shouted while Luis ignored him and continued to pray. HE ABANDON... He stopped when he saw the pale blue ice cliffs on the horizon. On August 25th, the boat reached floating ice attached to the coast; the air temperature was -29 oC (-20 oF), Looking up, it is possible to see the ice cliffs rising 20 to 30 meters (65 ft or 98 ft) high. It is possible to climb some stretches without equipment. In the distance, you hear chunks of ice falling into the sea, mixed with the sound of strong wind. At this time of year, there is almost no sun in this part of the world; the most you get is a weak sunset that lasts all day, barely illuminating anything.Your clothes barely protect you, the three of you have frostbite on your hands and face. Luis is the first to leave the boat and step onto the unstable ice near the cliff. You and Benjamin stay in the boat, watching the surroundings. At the top of the cliff, you notice a faint glow, reminding you of a flashlight, which soon goes out. You keep staring at that spot until you see a flicker and then a sudden crash that echoes across the whole cliff. You hear Luis groan and the sound of ice breaking, realizing your crewmate has fallen into the freezing water. His blood stains the white cliff walls, running down and mixing with the water while he struggles to hold onto the cliff to avoid sinking. When you look back to where the sudden glow came from, you see a figure descending the cliff swiftly, holding what looks like a rifle. Benjamin pulls out his Smith & Wesson and points it at the unknown hostile figure; his frostbitten fingers barely manage to grip the cold revolver. the figure stops at a firmer part of the cliff and quickly shoots with his rifle you duck taking cover with the thin and low wooden walls of the boat, the shot catches Benjamin's torso just below his arm, he shoots back in retaliation one of the shots catches the cliff while another flies towards the horizon his revolver almost escapes his hands on the second shot, and then the figure shoots once again grabbing Benjamin's forehead, his lifeless body staggers backwards and falls into the sea, his revolver miraculously falls into the boat as well as one of his boots, you are paralyzed by the scene, it is possible to hear the figure descend the cliff in a few more jumps and passes while Luis agonizes, you build up enough courage and stupidity to get out of the boat and help your friend, as soon as you get up you see the black-haired girl a few meters away pointing her mosin nagant at Luis' head who barely holds on to the cliff wall once white now red, With one hand holding onto and smearing red on the cliff wall and the other on his stomach, he lifted his stomach hand but words wouldn’t come out, and the girl showed no mercy. The shot hit his temple, instantly shutting his body down as he slowly slipped into the ocean. You go back to the cover; she turns to you and walks over the thin ice, pointing her rifle at you while you hear the bolt of her rifle chamber another round. At the other end of the boat, you see the revolver now with three rounds in the cylinder; your Mosin probably only has one more round before it needs to be reloaded. Seeing the revolver, the girl screams НЕТ!, NO!, NEI! It would be impossible to grab the revolver without getting shot, though a 7.62 round from your Mosin would easily go through the boat’s hull. Maybe you can... surrender?

It is August 22, 1999. You work as a loadmaster on a Lockheed C-130H Hercules and are on a logistics mission to the South Pole. The plane departed from Christchurch, New Zealand, heading to the Amundsen-Scott Base. The crew, including you, consisted of one pilot, one co-pilot, one flight engineer, and one scientific technician. You were sleeping inside a Caterpillar tracked vehicle that was being transported to the base when you wake up feeling a jolt. Soon, the plane hits the ground at speed, sliding and breaking apart on impact. The tractor was thrown out of the plane and tipped over on its side upon landing. Fortunately, you only ended up with some bruises, a dislocated right wrist, a broken left radius, and also a broken rib. You climb out of the tractor with difficulty, feeling the freezing wind cutting through you. You stagger to the wreckage of the plane. Only you and the scientific technician survive; the pilots were in the cockpit, which was completely crushed. Confused, you two decide to go look for the tail of the plane to try to find the engineer who might still be alive. You stagger through the thick snow on the ground, leaving tracks that quickly disappear with the wind. The idea of waiting for help doesn’t even cross your minds, and you move far enough away from the wreckage to be lost, yet still holding onto hope of finding the plane’s tail. The scientific technician is a tall, eccentric, and lively Canadian, about 30 years old his name was Oliver. He has a dislocated shoulder and a deep cut on his leg that he stopped the bleeding from using his shirt, and he also has some minor burns on his arms, neck, and head. He has an idea of what happened based on what he heard from the pilots: the plane was flying in a whiteout with no visibility. Ice forming in the air intakes caused a partial failure of the altitude sensors, so the plane was flying lower than indicated and ended up in a collision. he continues, saying that after the collision the tanks break and there is a quick, short fire. you feel like you’ve already been walking for hours on the empty plateau, you feel the Antarctic sun mocking you with a weak light that doesn’t save you from the frostbites that start appearing on your hands, face, and possibly your feet as well. Suddenly Oliver stops, you tap his back distractedly following his footprints, you lean forward and see in the distance ahead of you a silhouette of a person, Oliver asks you a question You’re seeing this too, right? Before you can answer, he runs off laughing toward the silhouette, completely ignoring your health condition. You start running trying to keep up with him while the silhouette just walks toward you, after a few minutes of running you manage to identify a girl, she seems to be holding, a rifle? You stop running, just maintaining a fast walk while Oliver seems to be picking up speed, Suddenly she stops and points the rifle at Oliver. He slows his run to a brisk walk and opens his arms as if identifying himself, but before he can say anything, she fires. The bullet strikes Oliver’s forehead and exits through the back of his skull, with a blast that shatters the monotonous, infernal sound of the wind. You fall backward into the snow, terrified, and quickly get up to run. Within seconds your leg seems to shut down with the sensation of a burn. You collapse, your leg gushing dark red blood. Desperate, you rise again, trying to run, but fall once more, and notice her walking swiftly toward you. You keep struggling to get up and escape without success, until she stops right in front of you. She stares at you with amber-colored eyes, a few strands of her black hair shaking loose from her hood. In despair, you throw snow at her and keep thrashing about. She keeps staring at you, maybe thinking about what she’s going to do. When she realizes you’re not going to stop struggling, she raises the rifle and smacks you on the head with the gunstock. Then she crouches down and starts tying your feet with a rope. You try punching her in the back, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. She grabs your wrists and ties them too. With you restrained, she pulls a bandage from her pocket and wraps up your leg. She ties your arms in a way that makes it feel like you’re wearing the rope as backpack straps, and then she starts dragging you silently through the snow, heading somewhere unknown.

The name of the boat was PSKR-731, better known as Krestyanin, a light patrol boat modified for the climate. You were on a logistical support mission off the coast of Enderby Land. On the crew were the captain, a first officer, you, and two nerds (researchers). On August 26, 1999, at two in the afternoon, it all started. You were on the exposed deck, facing the vastness of the ocean, thinking about how you ended up at this end of the world, but still grateful for not dying in Chechnya, when the sound of a gunshot echoed from the cliffs, interrupting the captain's conversation with the first officer. You moved away from the stern of the boat and turned to face the cliffs. Once again, you hear the sound of a shot, but this time it's possible to hear the bullet hitting the antenna on top of the boat. You go to the interior deck along with the first officer and grab two AKS-74U. When you return to the exposed deck, you notice that the captain is holding his Makarov PM. Another shot hits the boat, striking the hull and ricocheting into the water, and then there is only silence with the shooter still unseen. Antarctica has been an unarmed territory since 1961, so the captain believed it was some kind of survivor trying to call for help. Besides, he knew that retaliating could cause a diplomatic scandal. He maneuvers the boat close to the cliff and asks you to drop the anchor at the bow. When the boat touches the ice of the uneven cliff, you release the anchor, and when looking back, you see a Molotov cocktail fall and hit the open deck, striking the first mate directly and splashing onto the captain’s jacket. Both catch fire quickly. The captain takes off his jacket and starts stomping it on the ground to put out the flames. You try to help the first mate, but in a desperate move, he jumps into the freezing water. You and the captain run to get him out of the water before hypothermia sets in, As you pulled him out of the water you could see his rifle sinking, suddenly another shot, this time it grabs the captain's head, goes through his skull and hits your left hand, even so you manage to get the first mate out of the water, he runs to the inner deck to call for help with the radio, you get out of the boat jumping to a floating ice platform with your rifle to find an easier way to climb the cliff, Before you could get any closer to climb a bullet hits your knee, realizing that you wouldn't be able to climb or get back to the boat to get cover you lie down on the ground and play dead with your best performance, hiding your accelerated breathing and trying not to tremble, there is a brief silence before the shooter starts to go down the cliff, You can hear his cautious footsteps, you could take the opportunity and take your rifle and shoot him unguarded, but you notice that he comes down and pauses as if he knows you are alive. When he gets to the platform, you can hear him walk up to you, grab your rifle, and toss it into the water. Then he climbs onto the boat. You hear the screams of the first mate and the researchers before they’re cut off by gunfire. Moments later, you hear the boat burning after another Molotov cocktail. The shooter comes back to you and stops right in front of you. Fear takes over your mind, messing up your breathing, and that’s what makes him realize you’re still alive. You open your eyes and see a girl with amber eyes, black hair, and a scar on her face pointing a Mosin-Nagant straight at your head. Without saying a word, she takes control of you, forces you up the cliff, and drags you by the arms for an hour or two through the snow until you reach what looks like an old abandoned research base. She takes you into the dorm wing, lays you down on a bunk bed, pulls the bullet out of your knee with tweezers, and stitches it up—same with your left hand, She leaves the room and comes back with a plate of food fish she says, taking a piece into your mouth.