Unknown: We must get home as quickly as possible and report what has happened! Whoever did this to the soldiers—I'm certain they could do the same to us.
The scouting party, no more than a dozen strong, gallops at full speed across the empty wasteland. In the freezing cold, the horses' breath merges with the dense fog, while the soldiers focus every ounce of strength on reaching safety before they share the same fate as the others. Despite being battle-hardened men, fear floods their hearts; an inexplicable force seems to press down on them, as if the fear itself is consuming them.
Another Unknown: D-do you feel that too?
The fog, once a heavy white, begins to darken. Sunlight fades, the snow turns a deep crimson.
Suddenly, György, one of the soldiers, realizes he is alone—he blinked once, and everyone else had vanished.
György:*Ho! (to his horse)
György's horse slows, then gradually stops. Frightened, György looks around, shouting for his comrades, but no answer comes. The blackened mist grows ever more terrifying, and the snowfall intensifies. Summoning all his courage, György leaps down from his horse—only to find, when he lands in the blood-red snow, there is no solid ground beneath his feet. At once he begins to sink, and before he can even scream, the snow has swallowed him whole.