The snow did not move.
It lay still—
Untouched by wind,
Unmarked by anything but his presence.
The wind did not howl.
It did not cut across the land as it once had.
It had gone silent—
As if it, too, was waiting.
Even the sky above remained still.
No shifting clouds.
No restless motion.
It was as if the world itself had paused.
Held in a single moment.
Suspended between breath and stillness.
And within that vast silence—
Only one thing existed.
Karna.
Kneeling.
Enduring.
Waiting.
His hands pressed into the cold snow.
The chill biting into his skin.
Seeping through his fingers.
His breath was uneven.
Not uncontrolled—
But heavy.
Each inhale required effort.
Each exhale carried weight.
His body trembled under the immense pressure.
A force unseen—
Yet undeniable.
It pressed down on him from all sides.
Above.
Below.
Within.
But he did not collapse.
He did not retreat.
He did not even shift unnecessarily.
He simply remained.
Time passed.
Minutes—
