The wind howled through the steel walls of Skigal, biting at every exposed inch of skin despite the advanced armor the Seeker soldiers wore. Darren Olvex stood at the edge of the parade ground, glaring out at the endless tundra beyond the fortress walls. The distant, snow-covered horizon hid more than cold and death—it concealed the white armies of the Night King, a secret war raging deep within the Lands of Always Winter, far beyond the Wall. Darren could feel the hum of tension in the air, and not just from the cold; his time at Skigal was almost up, and he couldn't wait to get the hell out of this frozen wasteland.
He tugged his glove tighter over his hand, grimacing as the cold bit through the fabric despite the thermal layers embedded in his suit. He'd endured months of this, training in a land where the sun barely rose, where the cold was as much the enemy as the undead. His squad had been deep into the Lands of Always Winter, cutting through waves of undead, learning to fight in seamless formation under conditions that would kill lesser men. Every new battalion of Seekers stationed here had to earn their stripes—skirmishes with the undead, routine hunts, and the occasional yearly event to track and kill a White Walker.
It was always the same: hunt or be hunted. But for Darren, the missions had lost their luster. Skigal had served its purpose. He was ready to leave this place behind. His next assignment was in Jeddah, far from the ice and snow, and with it would come the comforts of civilization—decent food, women, and warm beds. Eden's military campaigns might have been brutal, but at least they rewarded their soldiers.
---
Darren's thoughts wandered, drifting to the female Seekers stationed at the outpost. Despite the camaraderie of the battlefield, they had made it abundantly clear they weren't interested in anything more than professional respect. That left Darren frustrated, particularly since the local Westerosi prostitutes wouldn't touch him either. It wasn't a matter of charm or hygiene—it was the fact that, like many Seeker soldiers, Darren was physically enhanced in ways that most people couldn't handle.
He wasn't even considered large by Edenite standards—at least not compared to his squadmates—but his size was still too much for the unaltered women of Westeros. Only the wealthy and powerful in Westeros could afford the body enchantments and modifications that were common in Eden. For the average local, even the idea of sleeping with an Edenite soldier was terrifying.
"Barbarians," Darren muttered to himself as he stared out at the snow. The Seven Kingdoms might have been rich in history and legend, but by Eden's standards, they were primitive. Eden had only begun "uplifting" this part of the world, and Darren couldn't wait to leave behind the ignorance and discomfort of Skigal for something more refined.
---
The sound of marching footsteps broke Darren's reverie. He turned and watched as a group of TTOS researchers emerged from the shadow of the main command building, moving silently across the courtyard. Even among the cold and hardened soldiers of Skigal, the Thule Occult Society operatives stood out. They were unsettling, their faces hidden behind blank white masks, and their motives always shrouded in secrecy. None of the soldiers trusted them, and they gave the researchers a wide berth whenever possible.
"Creeps," Darren muttered under his breath. It wasn't just that the TTOS operatives were secretive—they also outranked almost everyone at the base, save for General Kyron, the commander of Skigal. No one knew exactly what they were researching, but rumors swirled—forbidden magic, necromantic rituals, even attempts to communicate with the Night King himself. The truth was a mystery, and the TTOS agents weren't about to share it.
Darren didn't care to find out. He wanted no part of their experiments or whatever dark knowledge they sought to uncover. He just wanted to finish his final weeks here and leave this frozen hellhole behind. The next White Walker hunt was in a few days, and after that, he'd be done—on his way to Jeddah, where he could enjoy the sun, a proper drink, and maybe even a bit of company.
The loudspeaker crackled to life, interrupting his thoughts. "All personnel, report to the main hall. Briefing on the upcoming mission begins in ten minutes."
Darren sighed and adjusted his armor. Another mission. Another fight in the snow, cutting through hordes of undead that should have stayed dead. Eden's war against the Night King was carefully kept secret from the Seven Kingdoms, and the Night's Watch was just a convenient cover. The people of Westeros thought the soldiers of Skigal were here to help defend the Wall against wildlings, but the truth was far more dangerous.
The Night King had awakened, and Eden's response was to turn his undead hordes into a training exercise. Every battalion that passed through Skigal learned the hard way—fighting White Walkers and the undead in brutal, freezing skirmishes. It was all part of Eden's strategy: train their soldiers in the harshest conditions, test them against the deadliest enemies, and then send them out to conquer the world.
Darren had seen the horrors firsthand—waves of skeletal warriors, their frozen fingers tearing through armor like paper, and giants with blue eyes that crushed men underfoot. But even the worst battles had become routine. It was just another job now, and Darren had no intention of sticking around longer than he had to.
---
As Darren made his way to the main hall, he passed a squad of fresh recruits, their faces still full of nervous excitement. They wouldn't stay that way for long. Skigal had a way of stripping the hope out of men, leaving behind only what was necessary to survive.
He pushed open the heavy steel doors and stepped into the warmth of the main hall. General Kyron stood at the front of the room, his scarred face grim as he addressed the assembled soldiers.
"This will be our final operation of the season," the general announced. "The Night King's forces are on the move, and we've tracked a White Walker deep into the tundra. As always, our objective is to kill it and bring its body back for analysis."
The room buzzed with quiet excitement. Killing a White Walker wasn't just a mission—it was an event, a chance for every soldier at Skigal to prove themselves. And for Darren, it was one last challenge before leaving this frozen wasteland behind.
---
After the briefing, Darren returned to his bunk, stripping off his armor and lying back on the narrow bed. He stared at the ceiling, already imagining the warmth of Jeddah and the comforts it would offer. No more cold. No more undead. Just sun, sand, and the luxuries of Eden.
He closed his eyes, letting the hum of the heater lull him to sleep. Soon, this place would be nothing more than a memory. Soon, he'd be free.
For now, though, he still had one last mission. One more hunt. And after that, he'd leave the Night King and his undead armies behind