"Run!"
Instead of saying Lin Sanjiu was shouting at her grand prize, it was more precise to say she was encouraging herself. Dragging her grand prize, Lin Sanjiu stole a glance over her shoulder after they had run at full speed for a couple of minutes. She couldn't hear anything over the rush of her own pulse, a steady thrum-whoosh that filled her ears and blocked out all other sounds.
The gods—all of them that had descended from the white fog—were standing silently at the end of the glacial plain. The thick white mist smeared their figures and faces, and the only thing she could make out amongst the blur of whiteness were their heights. Some of the gods were tall; their foreheads disappeared into the white fog while some of them were short, standing only at the height of a building.
