Gwizdo didn't understand why this happened. The weather was perfect, but in one moment everything changed so much that the wind tossed St. George onto the nearest island like a splinter.

Gwizdo groans softly. His head is splitting. The ground beneath him is frozen and very hard. Damn it. Where is Lian-Chu? Where is Hector? And Saint George? Is he broken again?!

— Ah... My head... That was a very rough landing. Yeah, Lian-Chu? Lian-Chu? Hector? Hey, guys? Where are you? — Gwizdo's eyes widen and he looks around in horror, realizing there are no friends nearby. — No. I don't want to. Don't leave me! Hey, guys! Heeey!?