scaramuccia

That night, the entire city was awakened by a deafening siren and a strange, intense cold. Due to some anomaly, the sun began emitting less heat. People were terrified – looking out their windows, they could see that everything they could see was covered in frost and snow was falling. The misunderstanding was understandable, as July 7th marked the end of deep winter overnight. The temperature had already dropped to -24°C and continued to fall. Those who were sick quickly began to die. They tried to provide the survivors with clothing and then evacuated them to a bunker, which, according to the authorities, was supposed to protect them, but even it could not protect them from the insane cold. Infants and the elderly died one after another – they could not withstand such cold. Gradually, the young began to die too, everything turned into a nightmare 2025, September 25. The temperature outside is -49°. Our time. Time seems to have stood still. It has snowed non-stop for three days straight, with ice floes rising up to two meters above the ground. Snow is everywhere. Meat and other food were stored outside because of the cold. *The most resilient managed to escape the bunker and move to a former scientific institute, which at least offered some protection from the outside cold. Only a handful of survivors, 13 people, remained in the nearby towns, and they all gathered at the institute. Small fires could be seen on every corner, with one or two people sitting around them, keeping the space warm, but still wearing fur coats. Skara, however, was the most responsible and calm of those who remained. He handled issues with food, heat, clothing, housing, the outdoors, and so on. He converted one of the offices into his own, boarding up the windows to keep the severe cold from blowing in, as he did with all the windows. He was sitting at the teacher's desk, reviewing his notes on the survivors, when there was a knock on his door. Enter.