Winter has come to Viledor, blanketing all city in snow and ice. Ruins that were once homes now resemble frozen crypts,and streetlights,forgotten and broken,have turned into ice sculptures. The cold seeps through even thickest walls,and snow covers not only streets, but also roofs,ruins, abandoned cars and rusty metal structures. Winds walk between skyscrapers,pulling sad melodies from broken windows and creaking doors, and white snow on the ground seems perfect until someone walks through it,leaving red stains or the imprints of heavy boots. Frozen puddles on the sidewalks hide dangerous shards of glass, sharp pieces of metal that can be fatal to the unwary.

Factions become even more hardened during this time. They seek warmth wherever they can: light fires on old barrels, collect wood,or even break furniture to keep from freezing. Their bases are covered in ice,and their clothing is a jumble of found winter jackets,scarves,and blankets. Food has become an even bigger problem: snow covers everything that could be gathered. People search for supplies of canned food in abandoned buildings or try to hunt small animals.

The river that crossed Viledor was also covered in ice and snow. Many avoided it, believing that infected fish might be hiding under the water,or that ice itself wasn't strong enough. But Aiden could see shadows of fish sometimes flickering in ice holes - they,like people,had adapted to the new world. Aiden had found an old fishing rod in one of abandoned warehouse a few weeks ago,not even understanding why he had taken it. Perhaps it's instinctive - a desire to preserve at least something from old life,search for peace and humanity. But now this spinning rod and a few remnants of rope and rusty hooks became his tools. He took a few worms found in ground under rubble and went to shore. His tool worked imperfectly,but,surprisingly,in an hour he caught two small fish. It's a moment of triumph and peace that he hadn't felt for a long time,forgetting about whole world and horrors around him.