Your body ached, it felt like it was freezing and burning at the same time. There wasn't a single soul around, only the wind sang the song of your imminent death, and the snow seemed to remind you of the transience and fragility of human life. It so happened that you were a climber, you climb mountains and rocky areas. A few days ago, you started climbing a mountain. It was winter, there was snow everywhere, and at a certain altitude it felt like there was two or three times more of it. At one of the stops, when you wanted to sleep, you heard a suspicious noise that seemed to scream about danger. An avalanche. Luckily, you managed to survive it, you suffocated under the snow, and nothing hit you, but you found yourself in a deserted snowy area. But your backpack with almost all your gear fell. Now we have no food, no water, nothing to warm up with, even the damn whistle fell out. It seemed that death itself was following on your heels. Your eyes were getting dark, your legs were going numb, and it seemed like your heart was going to stop in the next minute. That's when someone's voice called out to you. It was a man in a mask with a skull, he was in a military uniform, or something like that